#the flashbacks are so fucking graphic and i have to sit here like nothing is happening. my chest hurts and im shaking

[truckstoptigers]

i should've known it'd come back

[andydrysdalerogers]

Troublemaker ~ 1 ~ The Exact Moment

He is one of the best goaltenders in the league. He's also hated by his teammates. He didn't mean to be a troublemaker but why not lean into it? There wasn't anyone to stop him.

Until he met her...

A Jeremy Swayman AU x OFC Stella Williams

Story Warnings: excessive drinking, SMUT!, an asshole Jeremy, angst

A/N: Hello and welcome to a spin-off "Cross-Checked" so plenty of characters from that story are crossing over here! If you want a more detailed story of how we ended up here, read the first store HERE Also! The taglist is open. If you want to be added or removed, please let me know!

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Everyone always knows when their life took a turn.  Whether it was for better or for worse, people can tell you when that happened.  

Me? 

It was a couple of points. But maybe I should explain some things first.  

My name is Jeremy Swayman.  I am one of the best goalies in the National Hockey League. My goalie partner and I are considered the best goalie duo in the last decade. With that comes a lot of things. Endorsements, contracts, money and of course, puck bunnies. There is no shortage of bunnies. Every single woman and some not so single ones, are always hopping around, wanting a piece of me, whether it would be street cred or to tie me down.  

I am all for the street cred but I’m not a relationship guy.  

Or at least, I didn’t think I was.  

I guess this would be the first point that changed my life.  

Flashback, December 

“Care to explain?”  

She handed me the article and I sighed. “That was just a friend.” I threw back the rest of my drink and signals for another. She glare at me. Fuck did I not what to do this here.  

“A friend.” She looks at the photos again and I can see what she sees.  She’s blonde, model like. We’re both smiling big smiles as we are wrapped up in each other. “What’s her name?”  

I choked for a moment on my new drink. “Her name is Charlie. The photo... the photo is just after we hugged.  Nothing is going on.”  I’m lying threw my teeth.  Hooking up with Charlie had been the release I needed.  

Dating Leighton Andrews, the sister of my assistant captain Luke Andrews, best friend of my captain, Andy Barber, and our social media director, had been a dream of mine for years. She was smoking hot, long, dark hair and green eyes. Fuck, I had wanted her for such a long time.  And at the beginning of the season, she had broken up with her long time boyfriend.  I swooped in and asked her out.  

What I wasn’t expecting was to find out she was pregnant from the ex. And it threw me for a loop. That led to Charlie.  

“Right,” she scoffs. Shit, I think she might cry.   

“Right,” I repeat. But then my temper took over. She was sitting there, accusing me of stuff without proof. Ok, so she might have had cause but still, it's not like I didn’t notice how close she is to my captain. Alcohol is making me brave, reckless and a little mean. “Like you’re not screwing around with Barber. I know you want him, Leighton.” I sneered the words at her.   

“Andy is just a friend.  A friend that I’m not even speaking to.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at me.    

“A friend? Really? That guy has wanted you since the day I joined the team. I’ve seen how you were before with him.  All the hugging and kisses to your forehead or cheek. Just a friend right? Bet he’s the father of your baby too.”   

See that? Right there, I just screwed myself.  I just didn’t know it yet.  

“How dare you! I told you the truth about the baby. You said you would be there. I thought we were in a relationship!” She was pissed and honestly, I couldn’t blame her. I had said those things to her. The waiter comes by and drops off our plates.  

I push the food around.  I was just looking for a good time when it came to Leia. But my mouth got the best of me. “Look, i know we’ve been seeing each other but we never defined what we are.” I shrugged. “I thought it was casual. I mean, you never slept with me so were we really that serious?”  

I saw it that time. The flash of pain, regret in her eyes.  “I guess then maybe, we should just be friends. I mean, why would you want to be with a pregnant chick when you could have all the uncomplicated stuff.” A watched that tear fall. I don’t think she meant for me to ssee it but I did. I needed to save this.   

“Look, Leia, I just don’t think I want to be a father right now. I mean, you’re cool and everything but we were never going to the next level. I don’t know if I could sleep with someone who’s having another man’s baby.  And now I’m going to be taking a hit because you weren’t honest from the beginning.”   

“Oh, so what were you going to just sleep with me and throw me away? Your teammates sister?”  

Oops. Fuck it. I shrugged. “I like you but I don’t do relationships.”   

That was the death blow. And if I knew what I knew now, I wouldn’t have said what I said. I would have just been honest. That I wasn’t ready to be a father and left it at that. But no, big man needed to make sure she knew how much of a jackass I was.   

“I’m sorry for ruining your life. I guess I’ll see you at work.”   

I was shocked. She looked so calm. She stood up from the table, threw some money down.  “Leia...” I tried to call after her. She turned and had a look of utter defeat.  

“Goodbye Jeremy.”   

I drowned my sorrow that night.  She had been the only girl I ever wanted more with. But that didn’t stop me I guess.  

Previously, I said I was one of the best goalies in the league, that my partner Linus Ullmark and I were the best anyone had seen in a decade.  

What I didn’t mention was the fact that I was probably the most hated guy in the locker room. 

If you take a life lesson from this, it should be this: never mess around with your captain’s best friend or your teammate’s sister. Especially when they are both. 

Flashback: the next day 

“yeah, she was banging.” I had decided to call Charlie for another round. I don’t usually double dip but she had been fantasic in bed, sucking me off like it was her job. And I couldn’t help but brag to the boys.  

 “Who was banging?” 

I look up to see my captain staring at me, a particularly hard look in his eyes. He had heard me and looked like he was about to commit murder.  I swallowed then smiled.  “This chick I hooked up with. She was wild in the sack last night.”  

“Oh,” his face blanked but his eyes were still flaming with rage. I’ve known Andy Barber for a few years.  He is not one to lose his temper. He isn’t one to start fights.  He’s a talker and one of the best chirpers in the league. He can get anyone into trouble.  I should have seen this as a sign. “This is after you dumped Leia and after you cheated on her, right? Nice.”  

I swear every single skate stopped to stare at the standoff between me and him. He just blew up my world and didn’t even know it yet. I tried to defend myself. 

“Leia and I weren't a couple. We dated but we weren’t exclusive.”  

“Oh, so telling her that you would be there for her, be with her for the baby, acting like her boyfriend but really what was your motive? Screw her and then dump her? She is one of us!”  

Boom! There went my life.  

“Jeremy, tell me that isn’t true?” Linus says.  

Linus Ullmark is one of the nicest humans in the world. He loves his family, he loves his team. He is my best friend.  

I’ve never heard him more disappointed. 

I don’t have a chance to respond when Andy continues. “It's not only true but I had Leia sobbing all night because of this asshat,” pointing at me. 

One more thing I should mention is that I have a temper. I once got ran over by the opposing team that I couldn’t let it go and punched my way out of the pile.  There is a gif of me smiling like the devil as I stood up. When I get challenged I don’t back down. Linus calls it my “troublemaker setting” And Andy Barber just set it off.  

“Why the fuck do you care, Barber? I had bigger balls than you to ask her out and date her. She was asking to be fucked, acting like a slut.  She was ready to give me everything and then she dropped the truth bomb that she’s pregnant! She is a whore, wanting to sleep with someone else when she has a baby daddy. At least I didn’t fuck her, you should be thankful for that. You won’t have to deal with my sloppy seconds. Or thirds, I guess,” I smirked at him. 

For the record, I understand that I may have crossed the line.  

Barber lunges at me, but a couple of the guys stopped him.  

But then I still got punched from out of nowhere.  

I had forgotten about Lukas Andrews, assistant captain, enforcer of our team. He knows how to throw a punch. He put everything he had in it, I felt my nose crunch, along with the sound and i was flat on my back.  

“You fucking asshole! That is my baby sister you are messing with!” Luke screams. He’s thrashing in the arms of our defensemen while Linus is helping me up. I feel the blood running down my nose and my lip is on fire. Guess when the other party doesn’t have a warning, Andrews can punch like its nobody’s business. But the rage is still simmering in my blood.  

“Fuck you, Andrews.  You told me I could go for it. Blame your-fucking-self!” I try to lunge at him but Linus and Brad, my other assistant captain, hold me back. 

In all fairness, I had that coming. Linus told me to be careful with Leia. He told me that it was a bad idea to try to sleep with her a dump her.  When I explained that I really did like her, he sighed and told me to do what I wanted to be happy.  So I had asked her out, got the truth bomb and now I was paying the price for being a troublemaker. 

As long as I lived up to the nick name, I didn’t want to care then.  

I was out for one game with a broken nose. Since I wear a cage as goalie on my helmet, I just had to wait for the swelling to go down to get back into the game.  So I threw myself into it.  

But losing her to Andy was too much 

Flashback – New Years Eve 

“Oh god, sorry.”  I felt a body hit me from behind. I knew it wasn’t one of my teammates, it was too soft.  So I turned to apologize.  

“My mis... Leia.”  Fuck me. I had seen her come in with Andy and they went right to the table with Andrews, his girlfriend Miranda and Stella, one of our trainers and Leia’s best friend.  

I hadn’t seen Leia in a while. Management had banned her from the ice, so her assistants were with us when they were taking photos.  I had heard that she was also banned from flying.  I wasn’t sure why, I assume that her doctor made that decision. But I try not to care. I can’t care. 

“Hi Jeremy.” She’s uncomfortable and she’s flushed. She looks beautiful, her belly now more pronounced. I can see why they call it a pregnancy glow. “Happy New Year.”  She started to walk away. 

She’s trying but I still can’t let it go. “You move fast.”  

She turned back to me.  Her face is neutral but I can see the fury in her eyes. “Excuse me?” 

I snorted. “Don’t play stupid, Leia. You’re with Andy, aren’t you?” A few of the players heads turn and I see Linus take a couple of steps forward.  To protect me or protect Leia, I wasn’t sure.  

Leia Andrews is not someone who will sugar coat anything. Her jaw tightened. “Why do you care?” she said loudly, her voice creeping up with each sentence. “You didn’t want me, remember?  You slept with someone else, remember? You told me you couldn’t handle my situation and I walked away. Whether or not I’m with someone else is none of your business. You made that painfully clear.”  

“Leia,” Linus said softly, touching her arm. “Please, be calm. For the baby.”   

The baby? What’s wrong with the baby. I move to ask but she doesn’t give me a chance. She shakes off Linus and stares me down. I fear that she will hit me or eviscerate me where I stand.  

 “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going back to dinner with my family.  The ones who accepted me for who I am and what I am going through and have my back.”  

I watch as she walks straight into Andy's arms. He looks at me with anger. Fuck, I don’t need this. My captain was going to be pissed because I couldn’t be nice to the girl he stole from me.  

“Really, dickwad, you couldn’t just be nice to her.”  Linus hit the back of my head.  

“Fuck, really?” I rub the back of my head.  

“She is a high risk pregnancy, jackass. Stress can be really bad for her.  I get it, you are pissed but she chose the man she loves. Grow up Jeremy.” Linus shoved my shoulder and walked back to his wife.  I looked around and saw my teammates glaring at me.  They all knew about her condition.  And I made it worse. 

I lost the rest of my team that day.  

Its been a week and I’ve had a different girl in my bed every night. But they aren’t her.  

No one could be her.  

So I go back to what I know.  

Being a troublemaker. 

NEXT

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[romanarose]

Seattle: Part 7

Marc Spector x Jewish! Reader

Seattle Masterlist

Part 6 : Part 8

Summary: Back in New York, Rebecca and Marc settle into the start of their new life... with Jake?

Warnings: usual for the fit, but not nearly as bad. Mentions of DV, child abuse, homelessness, graphic depictions of violence, I mean I'm straight describing murder here. SMUT!!! oral, piv sex, nothing to graffic or adventurous bc Rebecca is traumatized but v v v sweet stuff.

A/N: Flashbacks refer to the last month, not their childhood. No more childhood flashbacks. Marc and Rebecca have a whole life ahead of them <3 no more need for regret

***********

She was beautiful.

She was always beautiful, of course, but tonight was something special. It wasn’t because she had dressed up, she wasn’t even very dressed up. She wasn’t wearing a dress, opting for a cute romper with a thin, sheer shawl, Marc in dark jean and a nice gray t-shirt. They wanted to keep things fairly casual, there was no need for pageantry between them; they had seen each other without showers for a week. Marc had insisted on taking her out, however, and making it at least fairly nice. They had yet to have sex, the stress and adjustment of what had happened even after the shiva ended had kept things from feeling right. They had a hard month. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. A reduction, at bare minimum. They had a hard life. And recently, there had been a lot going on. Divorce proceedings had turned into a legal case with Jack’s will, but it ended pretty quick. Marc wanted to celebrate. They were safe. All of them. Marc, Rebecca, Steven… Jake.

“Beccs, c’mon, I feel stupid” Marc whined, sitting against the couch as he faced Rebecca.

“Just let me try, okay? Do what we talked about.” She instructed, dead set and determined to meet the mysterious third alter.

“Fine” Marc grumbles. He closed his eyes, and tried to relax, allowing his body to be as pliable as possible. He hated it. He hated feeling out of control, it was hard for him to lean into this. He was on edge. Steven struggled to take the body while he was this tense. He could only force a take over if Marc was distracted. You know how you try to think happy thoughts, and suddenly all you can think is sad? The more Marc tried to relax, the more tense he got.

Her hands entangled their fingers into his. “Relax baby, everything is okay”

Marc felt the pull, and it wasn’t Steven.

“Thank you for letting me take you out.” Marc said, blushing.

Marc’s shy tendency’s always struck her. They had been ‘together’ more or less, for two months; they had known each other their whole lives. But Marc was Marc, always afraid of rejection. She didn’t tease him.

“Marc Spector, I’ll follow you wherever you go from now on.” She smiled at him.

Jake Lockley didn’t need much. All he asked for- Well, ask wasn’t the right word. He didn’t ask Marc and Steven for shit; he took. 

He needed the body some nights to deal out Khonshu’s justice. Jake didn’t particularly care about Khonshu or Marc’s so called debt, but he liked the work, he liked killing bad people.

He needed the body when the others were incapable of protecting it. When the body and the others were in danger, when Marc fell asleep black out drunk on his back and didn’t have the strength to roll over as he vomited, when Steven spent so long studying during finals he didn’t drink water or eat for insane amounts of time. 

He needed the body for a quick fuck every now and them. Well, quick wasn’t the word either. You’ll have to excuse him, he’s not a big talker. Jake Lockley took his time with the people men he fucked. He wasn’t an animal. 

That was about it. 

Marc didn't need to know about those activities. Not that he’d acknowledge it anyway. The idiot refused to acknowledge him even when he lost chunks of time and woke up surrounded by bodies. The dumbass really thought Steven, who was only slightly less of a dumbass than Marc, did that. It’s no wonder the mind created Jake. 

Khonshu had woken him up in Chicago, and Jake initially thought it was to get a little Chicago crime fighting in, because, when in Rome, right? But Khonshu told him they had an opportunity to get Jack, and Jake looked over to the woman he had woken up next to for 2 months at that point. Jesus, the girl could sleep. He had come crashing into the apartment, tripping over Steven’s shit more than once, she didn’t even stir. Jake guessed when you could spend a summer sleeping on literal concrete, you can sleep anywhere. She was pretty, he’d give Marc that. Women weren’t his type, but he got what Marc saw in her. Marc’s attachment to her had been why Jack had drawn his focus. Although Marc may not have known it, Jake has been around for a long time, many memories Marc shared with Rebecca, Jake had watched through his eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of affection for her too. 

Jake had dealt with abusers plenty, but in general there was enough going on in New York to keep him busy. But Rebecca was special to Marc, and his job was to protect Marc because god knows Marc wouldn’t do that himself. That’s why Rebecca and Marc worked. Both had a martyr complex that put Matt Murdock to shame. Is there a Jewish version of a martyr complex? Surely the Catholics didn’t own the word martyr, but they sure have the monopoly. Semantics aside, both would sacrifice themselves to an extreme level for others, so they needed a partner that would give in return. Jack saw Rebecca’s nature, and took advantage of that, Marc never would. They balanced each other out.

That same nature of Rebecca’s prevented Marc from getting revenge on Jack. 

Jake was not Marc

After diner, they went on a walk in a nearby park, holding hands and she felt like she was in a Hallmark movie, but like. A spring version. Easter Hallmark movie? Is that a thing?

“Hey Marc, um, passover is coming up…” She started tentatively.

Marc sighed. “Yeah. Fine. We can do whatever you want”

Rebecca stopped him, holding both his rough hands. “I don’t want you to just go because of me, Marc. I’d like too… Well I want to start practicing more. Do shabbat, you know?”

His face softened. “You don’t need my permission for that.”

“I know” Her voice was soft, tentative. “I just… well I thought…” She hesitated. This was a tricky subject with Marc.

“What is it, metukah” Marc gently coaxed.

“I thought maybe… you’d like to start with me… just what you’re comfortable with!”

“Rebecca-”

“I know, I know” She assured. “But you said you still believe, you just have negative associations, and I don't want to pressure you.” Rebecca stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his wide waist, her stomach pressed against the tummy he sported since eating real food with her. “It’s completely up to you, baby, I just wanted to leave the option open to you, if you never want to participate again, you don’t have to. I just want you to be proud of where our people came from. They suffered so much, we suffered so much, so many had tried to destroy us and yet.” She kissed him. “We’re here. I’m here. And I’m happy”

Returning the kiss, slipping a bit of tongue in her mouth to taste her again, he replied. “I’m happy too” 

“Hola, carino” Now was as good a time as any to be introduced.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, but she actively tried not to react to heavy, not wanting to scare whoever this was. “Hola, me llama Rebecca, y tu?”

“Jake Lockley. Tu hablas espanol?”

“Un poco”

His smile was amused. “I can speak english.”

“Oh” She chuckled nervously. “Good. I’m not sure how much I could get out after that.” She had taken Spanish in college, even taking an extra semester than was required. It had come in handy in social work, but she was out of practice.

“You probably have some questions.” He had a latin accent, and a coy smile on his face.

“I assume you killed Jack?”

“Yes” He was a man of few words.

“Did you think that through? How do you know they won’t suspect Marc? Or me?”

He shakes his head. “You have too much faith in the police, muneca. It’s Chicago, people get killed every day. If they can pin it on a mugging or gang activity, they just move on.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make, you could’ve caused a lot more trouble for both of us!“

Jake Lockley leaned forward, smiling as she flinched, but watched her hold her ground. “Call Murdock. You won’t need a divorce lawyer anymore, but you’ll need him for the will.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

He sat back, stretching his legs out and crossing one over the other, encroaching on her space. “The will, his life insurance, so on. His family will probably want it, you’ll have to fight for the money.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t want it, I don’t need a thing from him.”

Jake laughed at that. “Yes you do. You think Steven’s teaching career and your social work is going to be lucrative? What if you get sick? In an accident?” He watched her face change as she was considering his words. “Take it, or at least the life insurance. He stopped you from working for years, consider this payment. You and Marc deserve a good life.” He spoke the last words with startling sincerity.

He had her right where he wanted; pinned down beneath him. 

They had kissed, they had made out even, but not much more than that. He wanted to give her time, initially, then she wanted to allow him space. Marc was trying to figure things out with Jake and Steven. The first few days were…. Tough. Marc spent a lot of time talking in a conversation Rebecca could only hear ⅓ of. It was a lot of pacing around the room of the studio, a lot of going to the bathroom and shouting at the mirror, and dramatic turns to yell at a window when the night got dark. Rebecca listened for a while, but it ended up a lot of talking in circles, and she started to just tune him out, filling out applications or rewatching Parks and Recreation on mute with subtitles on. 

Eventually, they found common ground. Jake wasn’t a bad guy, and although Marc had a lot of issues with this feeling of being out of control, they worked out a system that allowed for Marc to feel better and a schedule that gave him and Steven predictability. It had been a battle, but with all parties willing to listen and compromise (eventually), it was beginning to pan out. Plus, it helped when Marc realized that Jake wasn’t interested in sex. With Rebecca, anyway. 

There was, of course, the issue that Jake was in fact interested in sex with other people. But they tabled that discussion. One thing at a time.

Right now, Jake and Steven left the headspace to give Marc and Rebecca the time they need. 

He pressed increasingly more aggressive kisses into her neck, licking up her jaw before kissing her again, his tongue much more skilled and confident than their night all those years ago. Had he even used tongue for that? Little baby boy was so nervous, she wouldn’t doubt if he didn’t dare. His hands gripped her hips as he ground into spread open legs, his erection nudging along her clip. “Can I taste you, honey? Want to taste you so bad.” He muttered, running his teeth over her sensitive neck.

“Nggh, Marc” He already felt so good between her legs again. Rebecca ran her fingers through his hair, lightly gripping the dark curls, gently nudging him down her body where her legs hung off the bed. “Please”

“Anything for you, Rivkah” Marc kissed and palmed his way down her body, still covered in the blue romper. When he began kissing her inner thighs that the romper did nothing to cover, his hands fiddled and tugged on the suit, trying to figure it out subtly. “Fuck! How do I take this thing off?” Marc grumbled, looking very much annoyed and grumpy for a man about to drown in pussy.

Rebecca sat up, laughing. “I was waiting to see how long it took you to admit defeat, Spector.” She slide her arms out of the straps, and Marc took over sliding the material over her body, Rebecca lifting her hips up to help him along.

Tossing the annoying clothing aside, his warm fingers traced the hem of her underwear, plain and cotton, nothing fancy, but turning him on more than lingerie ever could. This was her. No frills, no lace, no expensive material. Simple. Her. “May I?”

“Yes” She said, out loud and clearly, knowing Marc needed explicit consent for everything their first- well, second time together.

“Fuck baby, look at that…” Marc muttered at her wetness as he knelt before her. “Been thinking ‘bout this pussy for so long” he kissed his way up her thighs, finally attaching his mouth to the skin between her legs, lapping up every bit that had dripped out of her before tongue fucking her, his hand running up and down the length of her body, groping wherever he could find something to squeeze. She had gained weight back since moving in with Marc, they both had, and she felt much more like herself. Slowly but surely, Marc and his ever patience kindness had helped her heal, with a lot of work from herself.

In Marc’s arms, she felt strong, she felt safe, she felt sexy again. 

God did she feel sexy.

Rebecca sat up a bit, attempting to get the stupid fucking bra off, and when Marc’s eyes flicked up to check on her, his eyes went wide at the sight of her chest bare before him.

“Fuuuck” He looked like a teenager who had never seen a pair of tits before, scrambling back up her body to take on in his mouth and palm at the other.

“Maaaarc” You whine. “I was getting close!” But she giggled at his horny brain.

“M’sorry, baby” His mouth didn’t stop though, moving to the other breast as his hand went to her clit again. “So fucking beautiful, baby, want to taste every inch of you.” And it felt like he was. Rebecca’s hips canted up, and as Marc’s tongue flicked at the tentative nipple, he heard her breath hitch, and forced himself away from her chest in order to watch her coming. He continued circling on her clit through it, marveling at how her body writhed and her eyebrows knitted together on their bed. When she started to come down, he immediately went back to his mouth on her. “I’ll focus this time, baby, I promise“ As he licked and sucked around her, Marc inserted two fingers inside her, her come running down her as he scooped it up, and into his mouth. “God fucking damn it, you’re fucking incredible” He thrust his fingers in her at a rapid pace, her body warmed up to him, and her could feel her tightening again already. “Gonna come again so soon Beccs? You been that desperate for me?”

“Yes” she huffed out, no hesitation. 

“I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry sweetheart.” He finger fucked into her and his mouth went to her clit. “Can you come again for me baby? Hm?”

With a shout, she felt her second orgasm rip through her with little warning, her legs shaking as Marc pinned her hips to the bad so he could continue his assault on her folds.

Rebecca was vaguely aware of Marc making his way up to her, kissing her face. “Oh baby, you did so good” he cood, thumbing over the scar on her right side. “So perfect, coming for me twice and my dick hasn’t even been inside you yet.” He teased.

She opened her eyes, smiling, finding a shit-eating grin on Marc’s face. “What happened to the apprehensive boy I knew?” She kissed his wet face.

“Hm, about 20 years of sex” He kissed back, slow and languide, savoring her.

“I missed out” She nipped at his neck, reveling in the soft wiper that escaped her pretty boy.

Marc peeled off his shirt, and began unbuckling his pants. “We’ll make up for lost time”

Jack was drunk, that’s why he was out this late. It was easy for Jake dressed as Moon Knight to grab him and pull him into the ally.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled, recognizing the costume from the news but unsure why he’s in chicago.

He was drunk enough to not immediately recognize Marc/Jake’s voice. “See, this is where you fucked up, cabrone.” Jake took the knife out of the chest of his suit, smiling under his mask as Jack flinched. “You did a lot of bad shit, but you did it elsewhere, so you were safe. But this was your mistake. You just to come here, didn’t you? You just had to intrude into my city.”

Narrowing his eyes, ever arrogant even in the face of death, Jack questioned him. “New York is Moon Knights city”

“Yeah” Jake nodded, allowing the mask to disappear and reveal his face. “But Chicago is mine.”

Jack's eyes widened in recognition as Jake lunged forward, stabbing him once in the chest, and twice more, watching as the blood spattered and leaked out of the pathetic man’s body.

“You messed with the wrong girl” Another stab, causing Jack to scream out again.

“She- please, she wouldn’t want this” He barely managed out through the clear pain, pleading for his life like hundreds of men had before. 

“No, she wouldn’t” Another thrust of the crescent blade. “That’s why you targeted her, isn’t it? Someone like her, you thought you could manipulate, so she’d never leave you? Pull her away from everyone who cared about her? Well it didn’t work, because Marc never gave up” Jake didn’t even bother pretending he was Marc, fucker would be dead in a few minutes anyway. One more stab, Jake thrust the knife into the front of Jack’s throat and stood back, watching as the blood flew out from the burst veins and sputtered out of the dying man’s mouth, dribbling down his chin and neck.

Jack leaned in, just as the light was leaving his eyes. “Te veré en el infierno”

He felt better than she remembered. As Marc Spector pushed into her, standing on the edge of the bed, the uninhibited sounds she made were better than anything Marc had heard. He let out a loud groan when he was fully sheathed inside her, folding his body over hers, wanting to be close, ever closer to her. 

“Marc” Becca moved her hips, begging for friction. “Marc please, I need you.” 

He complied, slowly moving himself in and out, watching as she threw back her head. “You have me baby, you always have”

He bent her knees as he stood up, picking up the pace and snapping his hips into her, her tits bouncing with everything thrust. He looked down at where they were connected, marveling at how she opened for him. “Fuck Beccs, taking me so good” He could come just like this, fuck he was about too. Pulling out with a wet squelch, Rebecca whined, but Marc picked her up, tossing her further on the bed. “Get on your hands and knees, Becca”

She complied, wanting to please him, wanting to make him feel good. 

Marc took a moment just to feel her. He gripped at her ass, her thighs, massaging his way back up and to her back, rubbing circles over her skin and into the muscles of her shoulders. “Such a pretty girl” Part of him wanted to come on her back and ass, just to see how perfect she looked covered in him, but she was tracking her cycle, and wanted him to come inside her and fuck, how could he resist that? Marc re-entered her with one hard thrust and went back to fucking her hard and steady, deep thrusts into her core that made Rebecca fall into the mattress, screaming into the soft material. 

She felt covered by him, safe, protected, and surrounded. How could this ever be wrong? How could this ever be sinful? He was hers, she was his, they were one and together, everything and nothing, heavy and weightless and all consuming.

Marc scooped her near-limp form up, cupping a breast with his hand as a strong arm pulled her up, her back to his chest as he never stopped fucking into her, she could feel every inch of him dragging through her, hard and dominating. The animalistic part of her brain knew he was claiming her, making her his again, but there was so much more to this. He wasn’t just claiming her, he was cleansing her, freeing her of Jack and all he brought. Marc’s claim was different. It was primal and feral to be sure, but loving and soul sharing at the same time. She was his, but she was also her own. She belonged to him, but she belonged to herself. He loved her. 

She was his life, she was his everything, and she was under his protection, as he was under hers, forever and always, existing as one, but two wholly autonomous beings, free from the need for control

She loved him, he loved her.

And nothing else matters.

Rebecca came again with his arms wrapped around her, tight and comforting, kiss her mouth and gluing her to him in a move that was symbolic, but also practical as her body gave out. He held her up, safe from falling, and laid her carefully down onto the bed as he continued to fuck into her at a slower pace, pressing kisses betweenher shoulder blades. “Doing so good baby, coming for me like that, jesus, you sound so good” He entangled his fingers in her hair that was looking more and more like the girl he knew every day. “You okay, honey?”

“Don’t stop, please” Rebecca clutched at the pillow, exhaustion flowing through her, but she wanted him to cum.

Marc pulled out only long enough to roll her over, then reentered her so smoothly she barely registered he left. “Do you got one more for me, sweetness?” He asked between soft kisses on her neck, a contrast to the rough pace he set inside her.

“Anything for you” Rebecca sucked a hickies in that sensitive spot under her jaw that always drove him mad. “Come with me?”

“Anything for you” Marc repeated, moving his hand to her clit and kissing her mouth, each swallowing the other's moans as the tightening of her cunt drew out his orgasm. Her nails scraped down his back as she came, and bit his lip as he stilled inside her.

They laid there like that for a moment, breathing in the shared air, a chill of cold as the fan in the room settled a breeze on the layer of sweat on their skin. Marc pulled the blanket over their bodies, and began to roll off of her, when he felt Rebecca’s grip harshed, holding him to her.

She was turned away from him, but he could see her eyes wide open.

“Don’t go” She whispered.

“Hey, hey, Beccs, I’m not going anywhere”

“Jack, he… after sex he”d just… get up and leave. He would just leave me in bed, naked, and alone, and I just… I felt gross and used.”

“I won’t leave you, metukah, ever” Marc kissed her and he laid on top, their touches slow and languid until they both fell asleep with Marc still inside her.

********

ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT gonna try to get it out today!

Thank you for reading! Reblogs help a lot, comments mean the world!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ninebluehearts @sofi786 @myfandomlikesandstories @tippycakes26 @ahookedheroespureheart @arsonfrogger

[dolleminas]

I have so many Feelings about this topic. Warning for a Long Reply Incoming TM.

Like, you can't expect people to feel positive about a body part when, throughout their entire life they've had it shoved (pun not intended) down their throat.

When I had just turned 13 and was a freshman in highschool, I had boys "joke" about putting their dick on the back of my neck because it was so big and heavy that it would break my neck. Can you imagine being a child and have people threaten to break your neck with their genitals? That shit is vile.

When I had just turned 13 and I got a mobile phone, I went on the internet as children do. Once men realised I was a girl they sent me nudes. Me. A child. Countless of pictures about their genitals. This continued for YEARS. Just, an endless storm of pictures of genitals that I did not consent to, and graphic sexual fantasies they sent to my inbox, and begging me to photograph my child body and post it for their sick perversion. Or even telling me sexual things relating to their genitals. Things like suck it, choke on it, sit on it, touch it, it's so hard, and so on. Once someone literally hid their dick behind a Cornetto because they wanted to "trick" me into looking at their video of them filming their penis. When I was a CHILD.

After I had been repeatedly sexually assaulted, I literally developed a phobia of penisses BECAUSE of all this abuse. And still the dickpics kept coming. This caused panic attacks, flashbacks, trauma episodes so severely that it caused me to hide me being a girl and also hide myself as a whole, not make friends, just lurk because I was so scared of being triggered again that I was essentially outcast.

You can't expect people to grow up and have this shoved in their faces the moment these sickos start looking at us like "fuckable girl" and have some of us NOT be traumatised by all of this. Good for y'all that a penis or a dick or whatever is a neutral body part. It's not for me. Because I've been violated time and time again by this body part. So, yes. My trauma is related to this body part. And I will never, ever see this as neutral. Simply because of the misogyny and sick perversion I've had to endure the moment these sick bastards realised I was a girl. I STILL refuse to go on certain social media sites as a woman because of dickpics.

And honestly? This whole movement is really damn tonedeaf. Because y'all know what the penis represents. Or rather, what cishet men want the penis to represent. How about we stop trying to put this blame on women, telling them to "unlearn"... when we should start at the damn source? People harassed by this behaviour aren't going to be neutral about it. Not until this shit stops. And I'm really tired of people acting like being traumatised by this makes you somehow the worst person on the planet when we are victims just the same. Maybe start with the people upholding this standard, and who are more than fine with traumatising people with that nonsense.

'Like that’s why trans women are abhorrent to both male chauvinists and radical feminists, because both groups have extremely strong feelings about what a penis represents and finds the conceptual and actual presence of a woman with a penis to be simultaneously vile and nonsensical.'

Yes, and why is that? Sure, there are people (I'm sure radfems too) who genuinely hate trans women that has nothing to do with sexual trauma, but let's not pretend that radfems and misogynists are coming from the same point of view here. And lumping that together is again, being ignorant on the issue here. And also, this reads victim blamey as hell. This isn't just about a penis on a trans woman. Because the majority of people who have these 'strong feelings' also have them when said genitals are attached to a man.

'... they've loaded so much symbolic baggage.'

Who the fuck is they? You think I do that for shits and giggles? This is really pointing fingers at this point, like, 'YOU ARE BAD FOR DOING THIS HOW DARE YOU' when so many people like me literally developed trauma because of something outside of our control. You think I like being traumatised by genitals? How does this somehow always come back to this same argument. This isn't about pre-op trans women. Using the word 'loaded' here really makes it seem as if we gleefully did this to ourselves.

'Anyway dicks are totally neutral body parts and seeing a dick, or a bulge in a swimsuit, or simply knowing that there’s a dick somewhere in the same bathroom as you isn’t harmful or violent'

Good for you that it isn't causing you harm! I'm glad you didn't develop trauma because of years of being assaulted and harassed. Genuinely, very happy for you. But maybe consider that not everyone has your experience and that until things change, not everyone is going to consider a penis a neutral body part and some people will be actively disgusted by them. Whether they're attached to a trans woman or a cis man.

Anyway, if people starting to see the penis as neutral is that important, maybe stand up for sexual assault survivors and try to find a way to stop us from being assaulted again instead of policing how people feel their trauma.

Trans women will never be free until people stop having strong emotions about penises. Like we, as a society, have got to stop caring about dicks! Dicks have to stop symbolizing maleness, obviously, but they also have to stop symbolizing power, dominance, sexual agency and aggression, violence, and even sex itself. Like trans women can’t be free if the very conceptual presence of a penis represents an intrusion(!) of unwanted(!) sexuality(!) in public life. Like that’s why trans women are abhorrent to both male chauvinists and radical feminists, because both groups have extremely strong feelings about what a penis *represents*, and find the conceptual and actual presence of a woman with a penis to be simultaneously vile and nonsensical because they’ve loaded so much symbolic baggage onto both women and penises.

Anyway dicks are totally neutral body parts and seeing a dick, or a bulge in a swimsuit, or simply knowing that there’s a dick somewhere in the same bathroom as you isn’t harmful or violent

[savemesomenachos]

tolerate it - Taylor Swift (evermore)

Pairings: GN! Character x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angsty angst, cursing, smoking, brief mention of sex (nothing graphic)

Word Count: 3331 

Flashbacks are in italics

AN: and so it begins… I got carried away with the word count hehe

I sit and watch you reading with your head low.

Their chest rose and fell slightly with every soft breath they took. They balanced the book in one hand as the other one brought the coffee cup to their lips. They blew on the dark liquid gently before taking a careful sip and wincing at the temperature. They placed the coffee mug back on the worn out coffee table and flip a page using their pointer and middle fingers before they leans back in the seat with a soft exhale. 

I turn my head away before they catches me looking and go back to staring blankly at my screen. I try to get work done but my mind has been wandering a lot more lately. Questioning everything. Especially them. 

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed.

I rub my groggy eyes and stretch my arms over my head with a slight groan. I drag my hands down my face and wipe my eyes  as I turn to look at them still sleeping. Their eyelids flutter as their dreams shift. My hand reaches forward to push that single piece of hair that falls seamlessly across their eyebrow and almost touches their eye. I stop myself before I make contact and my hand hovers in the air awkwardly. They twitch in their sleep and turn so that their back is facing me. My hand curls into a fist and I clutch it to my chest. Tears gather in the corner of my eyes but I wipe them away angrily.

I sit and watch you I notice everything you do or don’t do.

I realised I’d been staring at them a lot lately. Every time I catch myself staring at them, I chastise myself. ‘It’s creepy as hell, what the fuck are you doing?’ Then I realise that I’m not staring at them for them. I’m staring at them to gratify myself. I need to look at them all the time to make sure that they still love me and care for me. But it doesn’t help. I can’t tell what they’re thinking. I used to pride myself in knowing what they’re feeling all the time. Just one look into their eyes and I knew if they’re feeling happy or sad, horny or cuddly. But now? It’s what I imagine staring into a void would feel like; blank, lifeless, cold. So, so cold. And nothing makes me feel better.

You’re so much older and wiser, and I I wait by the door like I’m just a kid.

They’ve started to go out more often. I remember when they hated going out. When everything was easier.

“Can’t we skip this party baby?” they asks with a pout on their lips.

“It’s literally a party for you. So no, we can’t,” I reply, struggling with the tie they bought me for my birthday. 

“Here, lemme,” they offer, getting off the bed and walking up to me. Their eyes bore into mine as their hands expertly fasten the tie. They smooth their hand down the shoulder of my suit and slide them down to mine, fingers entwining with my own. 

“You look amazing,” they whisper, leaning in to me. My eyes flicker to their lips, wary of their intentions. 

“Can I kiss you?“ they asks, already stepping closer which makes them tower over me, arms wrapping around my waist.

“You know the answer to that already, I don’t know why you ask.” I say, draping my arms around their shoulders with a shy smile painted across my lips. 

“I like seeing you blush. Besides, if you said no, I wouldn’t kiss you,” they says, their lips inches away from my own. Our breaths mingle as their arms around my waist impossibly tighten. They muffle my resounding squeak with a kiss that leaves me breathless. Their tongue sneaks out of their lush lips, seeking mine. I readily surrender to the fuzzy little feeling that was threatening to overtake my mind. In that moment, nothing could touch us, nothing could change us. 

“We still have to go, you know that right?” I mumble with our lips still touching and our breathing harder. 

“Ughhhhh, fineeeeee. But only for a little bit. Then I wanna come home and cuddle yeah?” they ask, reluctantly pulling away and fastening their own tie. 

“Deal.”

Now? I’d be surprised if they came home at all when I was awake. I could hear them softly padding, no doubt in their sock clad feet, weary from the day, through our bedroom. They did exactly the same thing every day; they’d walk past me and go straight to the bathroom. They’d shower, change and brush all in a matter of 25 mins. I know because I timed them for a few days. On bad days, it’d be 30 mins but otherwise, 25 mins. They’d slip quietly into bed next to me and turn the other way while I struggled not to cry. 

Use my best colours for your portrait, lay the table with the fancy shit. And watch you tolerate it.

We sit across from each other at the dining table with silence looming between us, laden with unspoken feelings. They spoon a mouthful of food and bring it to their lips with what looks like a scowl on their face. My fingers tighten around the fork in my hand and for a moment I contemplate throwing it down and just confronting them once and for all. 

But I don’t. I only watch with bated breath as their lips wrap around the spoon and with a pause, they swallow. 

“It’s good,” they say and I breathe a sigh of relief. They pull their phone out of their jeans and resort to quietly eating dinner with no more pauses in the middle to tell me what they like about the food. 

I want to ask them, ‘What do you like about it? Is it the consistency? Is it the flavours? Is it because this is your favourite?’

But I don’t. Instead, I push food around my plate the rest of the time we sit there. In silence, they rise, go to the kitchen, rinse their plate and walk to our bedroom. 

“Night,” they whisper as they pass me by. 

No ‘good nights’ or ‘I love yous’ or ‘come to bed soon’. Just a simple “night” spoken so softly, I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t listening. 

If It’s all in my head, tell me now Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Y/n. We’re fine,” they say, slamming the front door shut as they follow me into the living room. 

“Seriously?” I start angrily. “You forgot our anniversary. Again,” my voice fades to a quiet whisper when the reality of our relationship settles in. “I’m tired, it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong,” they say, slipping their jacket off their slumped shoulders.

“But I-”

They cut me off with a quick kiss to my lips which leaves me momentarily stunned. I stare into those distant eyes and an involuntary shiver runs down my spine. They take it as an invitation to keep kissing me. 

“We’re fine, we’re fine, we’re fine,” they murmur against my skin, and I can feel my heart shatter. Their voice is far away, and they repeat it like a mantra as their lips trail across my body and it sounds like they’re trying to convince themselves. Their once warm hand wraps around my own and they drag me upstairs to our bedroom. I feel odd calling it that now. Although we share that bed every night, it feels like I’m the only one here. Tonight, all my doubts were confirmed but I don’t stop them as they slip my clothes off with quiet calculation. It used to be dedication and reverence and adoration and love. But now it feels mechanical. I bite my lip to keep the tears and bay as we use our bodies to make each other feel better.

I greet you with a battle hero’s welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun.

I rush to the door as soon as the bell rings with a hopeful smile on my face. Everyone in the background shushed each other as the room plunged into darkness. I inched forward with the sound of my shoes clacking against the floor ringing in my ear. I pull the door open, and they step inside without another word.

“Did the electricity go out or-”

Their hardened voice is cut off by the lights being turned off and friends screaming “Surprise!” They stumble in their place and turn to look at me with an unreadable expression on their face. They turn to their friends again with a genuine smile. The kind where your face feels like it’ll split in two, your eyes crinkle at the edges and you feel lighter, happier, softer. The kind of smile they used to give me. My shoulders droop in defeat and I turn and walk to the kitchen to hide out for the rest of the night. 

“Oye!” someone calls out. “Where do you think you’re going??”

“I was just-”

“Come on, take a picture with your lil lover yeah?”

“Ok,” I mumble as I make my way back to the fray. 

Someone gives me a light push and I land right in their arms. I look away from them and turn to the camera. I put on a smile like I always do around friends and wrap my arm around their waist like nothing’s wrong. They throw an arm around my shoulder like nothing’s wrong. We take a picture and put it up on our wall like nothing’s wrong. 

We drift farther and farther away as the night progresses. 

“I can’t believe you two are still together,” I hear a voice whisper. But its not really a whisper because I hear it all the way in the kitchen where I quietly sip on my beer. Then a sudden pause before

“Me either,” they whisper as everyone around breaks into laughter. A tight smile makes its way on their lips as I feel that hope from the beginning of the night shatter. I know it was a joke, just something to make their friends laugh cause friends can be assholes sometimes. But it hit too close to home. 

“Hey,” the same voice from before calls out. “Did you hear what your lil lover said?”

“Yeah,” I shout back. “And I agree,” I say, followed by laughter from the group again. I turn away before they can catch my eye. I can’t keep doing this, I think. But if not this, then what?

I sit and listen,  I polish plates until they gleam and glisten. 

“Happy birthday again, have fun you guys,” the group greets as they pile out the door in a drunken haze. We say our goodbyes and walk back to our rooms. They’re in a particularly talkative mood today so they sit down at our dinner table as I clean up, clearly not in the state to help. I grab some of the plates around the sink and begin to scrub them down in silence. 

“Are you really surprised we’re still together?” they ask as I feel their eyes burning holes in the back of my head. 

“Aren’t you?” I retort more sharply than I intended. 

“Sometimes,” they whisper, their voice closer than before. 

“Yeah well, makes two of us then,” I mumble, setting aside the wet dishes and grabbing a cloth to wipe them down. 

“What happened to us?” they ask. My hands freeze as soon as I hear those dreaded 4 words. Everything seems numb and distant. I feel their hand on my shoulder, but I don’t react. Too dazed by the question. A question I had no answer to. And even if I did, it wouldn’t fix things. Some things were just beyond repair sometimes and we seemed to be one of those things. 

“I don’t know,” I say, my hand gripping the plate so hard I thought for a second it would crack. 

“Yeah,” they say, turning away from me. “Me either.”

While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life.

“You know, we could just stay in today,” they whisper, pushing my hair back from my face as the rain pours steadily outside. 

“You always wanna stay in,” I giggle as they scrunch their nose in a cute little pout. 

“Is it my fault you always look this gorgeous?” they ask, their lips hovering over mine. A flush covers my cheeks as I turn my eyes away from theirs. 

“Awww, are you blushing baby?” they ask, leaning down impossibly closer and pressing a kiss on my hot cheeks. 

“No,” I mumble, pushing them off me. With a laugh, they roll of me and pull out a cigarette out of the pack on the nightstand. Wordlessly, they hand me one while taking one from themselves. The flame from the lighter casts a golden shadow across the lower half of their face. Their lips, now illuminated by the light seemed even more tempting. 

“Hey,” they say, taking a drag and inhaling right after. “Come here,” pulling me closer by a hand curled around the back of my neck. They slip the cigarette in my mouth and bring their lit one to the tip of mine. Their eyes stay on my lips as I suck in a sharp breath to light my cigarette. When I see the flame start to burn out the end of my cigarette, I pull away from them with yet another flush on my cheeks. I hide it with a long drag and a pointed look in their direction to which they giggle. I pull them against me so that their back rests comfortably against my chest and they sit between my legs. We stare out at the raindrops peppering our window and all the people moving around, trying to get to work in the rain. 

“Do you think we’ll be doing this in like 10 years?” they ask, their eyes closing against the chill and their hands pulling the blanket around us tighter.

“Of course we will. We’ll be doing this till we die babe. Forever.”

Drawing hearts in the by-line Always taking up too much space or time You assume I’m fine But what would you do if I

“What’s going on hmm?” my best friend of years asks as they hand me a margarita with those ridiculous umbrellas and a pink straw. I toss the umbrella onto the table as soon as I see it and swirl the drink for a moment with the straw. 

“What is it with exotic drinks and umbrellas? Like is it ‘cause they’re exotic? Is it compulsory for them all to have umbrellas? Is it what white people think of when they think of exotic places? Umbrellas and coconuts?” I ask, aggressively stabbing the straw into my drink at this point. When I don’t hear a reply, I turn to look at my friend looking at me intently. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” they say, their hand finding my own. I feel the warmth from their body seep into mine and it brings tears to my eyes. A sob breaks free and it becomes hard to breathe. Faintly, I feel their arms wrap around my shoulders and rest my head in the crook of their neck. I take a deep breath and let the comfort from their arms and their perfume surround me completely. 

“They don’t love me,” I gasp as the weight of my words brings fresh tears to my eyes. 

“How do you know?” they breathe in my hair as their hands running up and down my arms.

“I just know.”

Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it. Gain the weight of you then lose it Believe me, I could do it.

“If you want me to leave, tell me now,” I whisper as they sit on that couch, reading that book again. 

“What?” they ask, setting their book aside. They stare at me like I’ve grown a second head and not the fact that this has been in the makings for a while now. 

“Don’t sound surprised. Don’t sound like you care,” I whisper, tears freely streaming down my face now. 

“Of course I care,” they say, taking a careful step towards me. 

“No, you don’t,” I scream, my body curling into itself. My hands come up to my ears to muffle the sounds of my heart pounding. My back meets the walls and I slide down with my knees pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped tightly around my legs, hoping to sink into the floor. 

“I know things have been rough but-”

“Rough?” I scoff, my eyes rising to meet theirs. “Things aren’t just rough. This is not something we can just work through. I wish it was but it’s not.”

“So what? You wanna leave me? You wanna leave this life we built together?” they ask, their eyes glittering with unshed tears. 

“I don’t know what I want. What I do know is that I can’t go through every day wondering if you still love me at the end of it. Wondering if you’re staying with me because you’re too nice to leave me, because you feel bad. Wondering if today is the day you finally walk away and leave me forever,” I say, staring into their eyes, finally saying the words that lurked beneath the surface, waiting to be said, waiting to be heard.

“So you’ll leave me first?” they ask, tears rolling down their cheeks as they sat on the floor in front of me.

“I’m scared,” I say, the real answer to their question on the tip of my tongue.

“Of me not loving you?” they ask and I realise that they already know my answer. 

“Of me not loving you,” I admit, our teary eyes locking as we realise the truth. 

If it’s all in my head, tell me now,  Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” they whisper, their shoulder brushing against mine. A gesture that would’ve made my heart flutter any other time but now only served as a reminder of what I’d lost. 

“No one ever does,” I say genuinely, wiping away any remaining tears and feeling lighter, like I can breathe. 

I stand before they can reply and grab my bag that was lying on the floor. 

“I really did love you, you know? I just forgot why and then I forgot how,” they say, following suit and walking up beside me. 

“Me too. I just wished we realised it earlier. When things were fixable,” I say, walking to the door with them in tow.

“Yeah,” they mumble as I open the door and step out onto the patio.

“This is goodbye I guess,”

“Can’t it be a see you maybe?” they ask, I hopeful glint in their eyes

“I don’t wanna lie,” I say, turning away from them.

“You were always terrible,” they say followed by a chuckle. 

“Still am,” I say over my shoulder. 

“Hey,” 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Me too.”

I sit and watch you.

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If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here.

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Red

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: Kink and trauma. You know, in case you forgot whose blog you were on! Night terrors. Non-graphic flashbacks to violence, very graphic smut. Bucky’s head is just not a very fun place? References to brainwashing and torture. Kink discovery, including some hitting/slapping during sex and some power/control fantasies, all within the context of a very happy relationship. It goes down dark but there’s a distinctly soft aftertaste. 

A/N: For @cockslut-padalecki and her Decade Under The Influence challenge. My prompt was “The Crimson” by Atreyu. Thanks for always hosting the absolute best challenges, and congrats on the milestone! 

Pre-reads by @thoughtslikeaminefield @mskathywriteswords and @fangirlxwritesx67​. Inspiration from that scene where Sebastian Stan gets slapped. You know the one I mean. 

The companion fic to this will be coming soon! It’s significantly darker and way outside my wheelhouse, but please let me know if you want a tag. 

The Soldier stalks silently down the hallway to the bedroom, scanning the shadows. 

The closet. 

Something itches, deep under the ice: knowledge that closets are for hiding — 

— a small girl, giggling in the back corner of the closet — 

— ready or not, here I come — 

— but those frozen things don’t belong to the Soldier. 

He opens the door and finds the woman on the floor, trying to hide in the darkness. He picks her up by the throat. Moonlight from the open window glints off her wide eyes and the Soldier’s metal hand. She fights back, clawing at his arm uselessly. 

He waits for her to stop struggling. They always do. 

Bucky opens his eyes and bolts upright, gritting his teeth against the sweaty, shivery wave of nausea. 

It takes a moment for the numbing chill of the Soldier’s memory to fade. 

He knows it’s a memory. He lost so many things in the deep emptiness of cryo-sleep, but he couldn’t bury them forever, and now they claw their way out while he dreams. The darkness gives him back his life, one nightmare at a time. 

Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes he wakes up convinced that the bed under him is soaked with blood, and it takes a few awful seconds to realize that he just sweated through the sheets. Other times he’s paralyzed in the darkness, convinced he’s back in the cryo chamber, and he wants to punch and claw and fight his way out, wants to see the sun again, but he tried that one too many times — he learned his lesson about wanting things. 

At least he didn’t wake her this time. She makes a breathy sound as she stirs, but she’s still sound asleep, and when he inspects his hands in the glow of her night light, there’s no trace of red. 

She got the light about two months ago, when he started sleeping over. She didn’t ask him, didn’t mention it — he would’ve been embarrassed, if she asked, but it helps. She helps. 

He’s goddamn crazy about her. It hasn’t been long, but he knows this is it for him. 

Bucky curls up facing her. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a damp patch of drool on the pillow under her slack mouth, and she’s beautiful. It’s amazing that she trusts him enough to fall asleep next to him. 

He closes his eyes. This time he doesn’t dream.

The end credits of the movie start to scroll down the screen, and she makes a grumbling noise that means she doesn’t want to get up and turn the TV off. Her little apartment is full of the rich smell of whatever she’s got in the oven, and the day has been so sweetly domestic that Bucky wonders when everything will start to twist and distort and go bloody. He must be hallucinating. 

But the hallucinations always had a sort of airbrushed quality to them when they started, an inhuman perfection that felt easy, like he was floating. Right now his stomach is growling, and when she shifts, her elbow digs into his side, and she’s a heavy comforting warmth on top of him. 

The hallucinations were the product of his own brain, which might be why they came back all too quickly when he started to recover his memories. Even when he couldn’t remember his sisters’ faces, he remembered the drug-fueled torture that took place behind his closed eyelids, scenes that started like fantasies and ended like nightmares. 

Most memories from before the fall are weak and hazy, sepia-toned afterimages that overlay the living world like ghosts. Other things bleed through the decades, making it hard to keep track of whose memories he’s seeing. The Soldier’s memories are always sharp and cold, and they’re the hardest to shake off. Sometimes they’re triggered by the present, and it’s always a surprise; he’s stepping into a crosswalk and the past is washing over him like — 

The water from the hose is freezing cold as the handler rinses off the blood — 

— and he’s still staring down at the slushy puddle, but — 

— the Soldier keeps his eyes down, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering, watching the red swirl over the cold cracked tile and disappear down the drain, and — 

Bucky has to fight to hold on to the honking taxis and the Brooklyn stink, because the cryo chamber is quiet like a coffin in the last few seconds before he’s frozen into unconsciousness, and — 

— and sometimes he feels frozen even when the dreams dissolve, even when he knows they’re only dreams. 

The frigid paralysis was mental more than physical, for the Soldier, and that’s a hard thing to shake. The raw human parts of him iced over, head and heart numb while his body carried on following orders. 

She sits up and stretches, making her shirt ride up, and he notices bruises on her hips, wrapping around the side. 

“Did I do that?” he asks, voice thin. 

She looks down like she didn’t notice. “Probably.” 

He tugs the waistband of her yoga pants down a little and finds the shape of a handprint, stained purple. She twists to show him a matching set on the other side. They’re more defined on the side he was gripping with his metal hand last night. He feels cold all over. 

“Sorry.” 

“No biggie.” 

He’s too scared to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you.” 

“What if I asked you to?” she tosses back, playful and easy. 

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to that. He can’t let her see how badly he wants that, so he just freezes like a deer in headlights, forcing himself to go still, to shut down, to say nothing.  

“Whoa, hey, don’t do that,” she says, and she moves into his space slowly, deliberately, giving him time to tell her to stop. He blinks at her, and she smiles, soothing. 

He spent the first month of their relationship waiting for her to turn and run. It’s gotten better, but… 

“Why the hell do you trust me?” he blurts out. 

She frowns, and hesitates, and he wants to reach up and smooth out the little frown line that forms between her eyebrows, but he doesn’t. She curls up against him and kisses his jaw. 

“Would you ever choose to hurt me?” she asks. 

“No.” 

“There you go.” He feels the movement when she shrugs, as if it’s that easy. “You control your choices. That’s it.” 

“But I —” 

“No buts,” she interrupts, and her voice is firm. “I choose to trust you and you don’t get to talk me out of it.” 

Bucky lets out a huff of not-quite-laughter at that. She’s stubborn as hell when she wants to be, and he knows better than to argue. 

“Okay,” he says, and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She settles closer, her breath a warm damp tickle against the side of his neck. 

His body used to be a weapon. 

“You can’t blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” she mumbles, as if she heard him. 

He takes a deep breath and says it again: “Okay.” 

He can see her reflection in the mirror; she bites her lip, teeth white against her bright red lipstick, trying to hold back, but the whimpers are getting louder by the second as he fucks her harder. She’s bracing herself with her forearms on the sink, her entire body shaking with each sharp thrust. 

“Shhhh,” Bucky says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t slow down. 

He’s pretty sure this was her plan all along. They barely made it an hour into the party before she tugged him into the bathroom, and usually he would protest, but he’s been half-hard since he first saw her in that damn outfit. 

She opened the door earlier looking like a pinup, complete with glossy curls and red lips and this dress: flared skirt, nipped-in waist, curves threatening to spill over the scooped-low neckline. He had just stuttered for a few seconds as a wisp of memory cast a sepia glow over her pleased smile. 

He used to have a dog-eared print of one of those calendar girls, and it was tame compared to some that were carried to war, but there was something warm in her smile that made him hold onto it. He used to daydream about her waiting at home, welcoming him at the door, when everything else was heavy and grey. He used to look at her smile when he couldn’t bear to close his eyes, knowing he’d only see blood. They took it when he was captured, of course, but he used to imagine — 

— this, he used to imagine this, the way the skirt is rucked up around her hips and she’s bent at the waist, the way she stretches open around the shiny-wet length of his cock. 

He has a flash of certainty that this is just a fantasy, something he’s imagining desperately as he fucks his own fist and tries not to make a sound, pressing his other palm to his mouth to muffle his labored breathing. He’s picturing this so vividly that when he opens his eyes and sees the stars, framed by the caved-in ceiling of another bombed-out shell of a building, he’ll have to fight back tears of disappointment. 

The sight of her face in the mirror is utterly pornographic, threatening to send him over the edge too soon, but when he looks down, he can see the way her ass bounces and jiggles as she shoves herself back to meet each thrust, and that’s goddamn obscene too. Bucky’s imagination has never been this good. 

She’s so close, too close to stay silent, and just as she lets out a high-pitched, keening moan, there are footsteps right outside the door. 

He reacts instinctively, before he can think better of it; he slaps his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound against his palm — the metal one, he realizes, a split-second too late. 

Their eyes meet in the mirror for one wild heartbeat. Her skin looks dangerously soft under silver fingers that could so easily break the fragile jawbone they grip. 

Then her eyes roll back in her head, and her orgasm blindsides both of them with its intensity. If he wasn’t silencing her, she would’ve shouted, he’s pretty sure; she spasms violently against his grip, writhing like she’s trying to shake him off, and — 

— he imagines her struggling, fighting back, until he pins her against the wall and — 

— it hits him like a gut-punch. He doubles over, curling himself around her as he comes with a rough shocked grunt, and the white-out lightning-bolt electroshock feel of it is so incredible he forgets, for a few seconds; he just buries his face in those curls and kisses the nape of her neck. 

He straightens up and realizes her lipstick is smeared over the metal hand, deep crimson red. 

“God, we’re a mess,” she laughs breathlessly. She turns to kiss him, eyes sparkling, and then they have to clean up, put themselves back together, and he brushes it off. 

It was probably a memory, a ghost whose features he confused with hers in one fevered second. Unwanted memories — 

— dreams — flashbacks — fantasies — hallucinations — 

— invade his reality every day. 

It didn’t feel like a memory, though. 

She smiles, and there’s no doubt in his mind that the smile is real, so Bucky swallows his guilt and smiles back. Her hand is warm in his. 

There’s a knife in his hand and blood on the floor. 

It’s messy, but those were his orders. Easier to frame the mistress this way. At least the carving knife was sharp. Red drips down the blade onto the metal fingers.  

He’s about to place it next to the corpse when he hears the gasp. The mistress had been asleep four minutes ago, but people are unpredictable that way. 

Messy. 

The Soldier pivots, finds her standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She’s paralyzed by fear, like a deer in headlights as he stalks closer. Usually they run. Sometimes they fight back. This one just stares. 

“I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I didn’t see —” He grabs her wrist, and she shrieks, trying to twist away, until he pins her against the wall and holds her in place. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “No, please, I’ll do anything you want — just don’t kill me! You can — anything, I promise, I won’t struggle! Do you want —” 

“Want” is buried deep under the ice. “Want” is for bodies that are warm and soft and human. The Soldier is a weapon.

He presses the knife into her hand and forces her fingers to close around the handle. She was supposed to be asleep. 

She’ll be blamed, one way or another, but maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner. 

No witnesses. It’s an order. 

Bucky wakes up. He’s trembling, sitting up with his hands twisted in the sheets, but it’s not as bad as it could be. She’s sitting up next to him, one gentle hand on his chest as she watches with wide sad eyes. 

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Fuck, I hate waking you up.” 

“Almost time anyway,” she says, which is when he realizes that it’s morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the sheer curtains. He settles back against the headboard, taking it in. They’re both naked, with her big downy comforter around their waists, and the residual chill of memory thaws immediately in the cozy warmth of her bed. 

She leans in hesitantly and brushes her lips against his. He can read the worry plain on her face — she doesn’t know what he needs right now — but he tugs her onto his lap, tilts his head back, mouth opening easily under hers for slow lazy kisses that stretch like taffy and then turn deep and dirty. She swears like a sailor as she sinks down slowly onto his cock. 

Christ, she’s gorgeous. 

It must be real. He could never hallucinate something so flawed and incredible as the way she looks naked, the stretch marks under his palms, the calluses on her fingers when she cups his jaw, the way she moans when he plants his feet on the bed and fucks up into her. 

She’s flushed and dewy with sweat, moaning in the sharp bitten-off way that means he found just the right angle, and her thighs are shaking hard enough that he has to grip her hips and hold her steady. He can feel her starting to get close, clenching and flooded around him, when her alarm goes off. 

“Cocksucking motherfucker,” she snarls. 

They both look helplessly at the phone, just out of easy reach on the nightstand. Bucky’s tempted to just ignore it, but she’s already leaning over. She twists at the waist but doesn’t stop rocking her hips down against him, squeezing in little pulses like she can’t help herself, so he settles her more firmly on his lap, holding her weight and anchoring her as she reaches for it. He works his right hand down between them, an awkward angle that’s totally worth it when he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb and feel her spasm around his cock. 

“Five more minutes,” he suggests breathlessly. 

“Not gonna need that long if you keep doing that.” She trembles and almost collapses before finally grabbing the phone, and she hits the snooze button immediately. 

He’s already rolling his hips, grinding in deep, and he must hit something just right at the same moment she starts to straighten up; it makes her twitch, jerking uncontrollably against him as she moves, and her elbow cracks across his jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to rattle his teeth. 

“Shit!” she hisses, and then: “I’m so sorry, I — are you —” 

But the rough throb of pain hit like a swell of heat in Bucky’s gut, making him jerk up into her and shudder with pleasure. He lets his head loll, taking a deep heaving breath and letting it out as a moan. 

It’s not until he tilts his head back to look at her stunned face that he realizes what just happened. His cheeks burn but she doesn’t look disgusted; her eyes go all heavy-lidded and she bites her lip as she starts to ride him again, swiveling her hips. 

He’s opening his mouth to make some excuse, to deny it, when she leans in for a bruising kiss: teeth scraping his lower lip, a whimper rough in her throat, cunt silky-hot and soaked, so good his head is spinning. 

Then she asks raggedly, “Do you want me to do that again?” 

Without even thinking about it, he blurts out, “Yes.” 

Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp sting that draws a guttural sound from deep in his chest. He moves on pure primal instinct, gripping her hips to slam her down on his cock. 

From there it’s rough and frantic and desperate. He’s only dimly aware of the way she moans, bucking against him, the way they’re moving against each other like animals, the way she bites his lip so hard he tastes copper and then he’s gone, coming so hard his vision goes white with the first intense pulses of it. She shudders as she follows him, riding out the shocks of pleasure with her forehead pressed to his and her hands in his hair. 

He shivers against her, breath hitching as reality washes in like ice water. 

“I can feel you freaking out,” she mumbles. “What, they didn’t have kink in the thirties?”

It surprises Bucky enough that he lets out a huff of laughter. “No. Not exactly.” 

“Why is this freaking you out?” 

He stutters for a second before he manages, “What’s wrong with me?” 

She sits up and looks at him intently. “Fucking nothing.” 

“That should be the last thing I want,” Bucky mutters, cheeks burning. 

“That’s not how it works,” she snaps. “Sex isn’t — it doesn’t always make sense. It’s messy.” 

“I’ve had enough of hurting people for a fuckin’ lifetime.” 

There’s something vulnerable in her sheepish half-smile. “Sometimes your body likes shit it shouldn’t. You can’t control what gets you off. Believe me, sweetheart.” 

He blinks, ready to question that, and she leans in for a quick kiss. As if on cue, her alarm goes off again. 

“Fuck.” 

“I gotta go,” she says reluctantly. “But later — later we’re going to talk about some things. Okay?” 

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it very clearly in that moment: I love you. 

“Okay.” 

The Soldier pins her brutally against the wall, one hand around her wrists, the other around her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, just holds her there and savors the thrill; she’s writhing and lashing out at him like a caged animal, but he’s got her and she knows it. 

It’s beautiful, the way she snarls and tries to struggle. 

He wants —

 — so this must be a normal dream, not a memory, but — 

— he wants to fuck her just like this, up against the wall, and —

— his hips jerk and his cock throbs, and — 

— fuck, he wants her. 

“Baby?” Her voice comes out as a sleep-slurred moan. 

He tries to blink away the dream, but instead he’s rolling over and pinning her, rocking his hips down before he can stop himself. She sucks in a breath, spreading her legs to meet the next slow thrust, and she blinks dazedly up at him, mouth dropping open as they rut against each other. 

“What was it?” she asks, raspy and heated. 

He lets out a pained sound and drops his head, hunching to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’s so goddamn hard, so close, all over a fucked-up dream, and — 

“I was holding you — up against the wall. Your wrists.” 

“Yeah?” she says, voice smoky and eager. “Remember what we talked about?” 

“Traffic lights. Red if you want me to stop.” 

“Do it.”  

Oh. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

He snatches her wrists and crosses them over her head, watching the way her lashes flutter at the touch of metal, the way she bites her lip. She shifts under him, squirming until the length of him is slotted up against her slickness and her legs are up around his hips. 

He slides in slow, relishing every inch, her body welcoming him with living dripping heat. She arches up, and he adjusts his grip on her wrists, squeezing slightly as he braces himself. All he wants in the entire damn universe is to drive into her, piston his hips until she’s screaming, but he starts to fuck her with steady even thrusts, holding back, trying to let go of the last lingering doubts. 

“Doesn’t this scare you?” Bucky asks hoarsely. “That you’re trapped.” 

She lets out a moan that sure as hell doesn’t sound like fear. This isn’t a dream any more, but it still feels surreal. 

“Yellow,” she says.  

“Shit. What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but she’s got her ankles hooked, keeping him in place with her legs. He lets go of her wrists, at least, and hauls in a deep breath, trying to make sense of that fierce expression on her face. 

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see that you’re in control. You chose to stop.” 

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I did.” 

“Stop punishing your body for wanting this,” she says. 

His breath catches, and for a moment all he can do is stare. She gives him a smile so soft it threatens to rip him open.

Then he curls his fingers around her wrists again — they’re still crossed, right where he left them. He waits for her nod. 

“Green.” 

Companion fic is here. 

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hi I’m here to review the Clementine comic. it’s not good.

Does this even need an introduction? You know why I’ve gathered you all here today. You know the comic exists, and you probably know that it’s not great and we’re all upset about it. 

Myself included. I am not okay. At all. 

Skybound could’ve literally spit in my face and I’d come out feeling better than I did reading this comic, because this comic is an insult to the original Telltale games and Clementine as a character. 

This comic is a fancy fanfic. Glorified fanfiction. It’s not canon, and Skybound and Tillie can pretend that it is, but it’s not. Bold of them to assume we’d just accept this from people who didn’t work on the original games and never wrote for Clementine before, and based on this comic alone, any chance of us taking it seriously is gone. 

I’m gonna go through every single page, every panel, of this comic and give you my review. So I guess if you’re worried about spoilers [though at this point why would you?] then be warned, spoilers for the entire comic ahead. 

I also wanna add that I have nothing against Tillie Walden. I know a lot of dingdongs are harassing her on insta over this comic and that’s not okay. You telling her how much you hate her isn’t going to change anything. If anything, you keep being assholes to her and she’s just gonna block everything out, even things simply critiquing her work in hopes that it helps her improve. 

You’re allowed to be upset about the comic and share your feelings about it, but don’t take it out on the actual human being like that. Besides, like I’ve said before, if Tillie wasn’t gonna make the comic, Skybound would’ve found someone else to do. This was coming no matter what because Skybound wants that coin. 

That being said, I’m not going to hold back my opinions on this comic. Skybound and Tillie made this comic, they put it out there and asked for money for it, therefore I’m allowed to explain why it’s garbage as well as ponder over the questionable intent and whether or not Tillie actually has played these games. Y’know, it’s like how I have nothing against Kent, but sometimes he says things I disagree with and well, y’know how it goes. 

Alright, this is gonna be long, so let’s go--

The first few shots we get are of the school, two people sleeping, and Clementine’s empty bed. Nothing super note-worthy, we have no idea who is sleeping in the beds, it’s just there to establish that it’s early and everyone’s still asleep. 

The drawing of the school looks fine? Not super accurate, but I can give it a pass since it’s a few years later, I assume. What I can’t give a pass is how you managed to already mess up on the first page of your comic. 

Because..... why are you implying that Clementine’s room is upstairs? First of all, seems kinda dumb to put Clem, who has only one leg and has to walk with crutches, upstairs. Also, if you’ve played TFS and paid any attention to where her room is actually located [the dorms] then you’d know there isn’t any stairs leading to their floor. It’s the side building next to the admin building, you walk through the door, go down the hall, take a left and their dorm is right there sooo..... 

Oh right, it’s probably done this way so that we can have such a suspenseful moment where Clementine is sneaking out while the others are asleep and her foot makes a creeeeeeakk that could wake everyone up, thwarting her plans of abandoning everyone quietly so she doesn’t have to deal with any consequences. 

Because yeah, Clementine is sneaking out with all of her supplies because apparently, she’s been planning an escape from this place for a while. 

And just look at how gosh darn happy she is about it. You can’t see or hear me, but know that I’m laughing. Don’t worry, I will talk about her abandoning everyone later.

But first, I have a gripe with Clementine's design in this comic. It doesn’t look like her. This art of her right here is the most accurate we get throughout all 12 pages, and it’s the best looking, too. 

Moving on, she slams the door shut while this walker changes faces and hair between panels, so that’s cool. I will say, I like the idea of the Ericson crew putting spikes on the door. That’s fun. 

Though Clementine slamming the door shut while trying to sneak out seems counter productive but it fits with the theme this comic has of inconsistency, so it works. 

Next we have Clementine going to what I believe is the fishing shack by the river, and she’s going through some things that she’s stashed away, telling us that she’s been planning this escape for a while. 

Oh good, she has a map. Well at least now she won’t get lost out there in the woods while she makes her escape... also that last panel with her profile.... why does it look so funny? Like this page of the comic doesn’t look too bad, but there is something off putting about her eye there and how she has zero expression. 

And it turns out that rustle was a walker, and Clementine is super inconvenienced by this and gives us our first piece of witty dialogue.

Yeah you dumb walker, can’t you see Clementine is busy running away from home and abandoning all of her loved ones without a single goodbye so she doesn’t have to witness the consequences of her selfish actions?? Gosh, so rude.

Just a heads up, the dialogue in this comic is stilted, emotionless, and bland. The words have no flow, no charm, and never feel like they should be coming out of Clementine’s mouth. Then again, the upcoming graphic novels this is tied to are for young adult/middle graders so I guess we have to dumb everything down so their baby brains can process it. 

.....Why does her face look like that? Also, interesting that she decided to move her ponytail to the other side of her head.... which is a thing that happens throughout this comic, her hair will randomly change sides. 

I believe it’s a metaphor for her changing and inconsistent personality. 

So yeah, Clementine is just making off with the supplies she gathered [I’m sure Ericson doesn’t need ‘em anyway] and she’s just so gosh darn annoyed at all these small inconveniences bothering her.... because it’s just too early for this. 

.....Again, why does her face look like that?

I’m sorry, like I get it, Tillie’s style is supposed to be purposely messy yet minimal but it doesn’t work. When you do a comic in a more messy style, usually it has charm and heart put into it. Effort goes into the messy look, and when things are minimal, that usually means more clean, yeah? So you put them together and just..... that is nothing resembling Clementine’s face. 

Can we just--

Look at canon Clementine’s face. Look at the way her eyebrows are shapes, how wide her eyes are with her eye lashes. The dirt on her skin, the lines-- there is so much personality in her features. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a neutral expression or she’s expressing anger or joy or sorrow or whatever. 

Now, is it fair to compare a model of Clem from the games to the Clem in this comic? Well, I assume that if Tillie is doing this comic, she would use references from the game to ensure that Clementine is recognizable, especially now that she’s no longer wearing her signature hat. 

So why does she look like this? Why do I look at these drawings of her face and see nothing but a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth? You might as well draw me a simple smiley face. And I get that it’s a comic, and it’s a lot of work to draw the same character over and over again and you gotta cut corners somewhere, but maybe put some effort into the close up shots of her face so that we can actually see it’s her? 

Other fan artists have made comics in their styles that shine bright with Clementine’s personality, so what happened here? 

Anyway, surprise..... it’s not a walker annoying Clementine. 

........Why does AJ look like that??? I’m sorry, I hate to do the same thing I just did but--

Just because you put Clementine’s hat on AJ that doesn’t automatically make it him. I just.... wow. This feels like there wasn’t a single reference involved, like if someone gave Tillie a basic description of AJ and she just did this. 

But appearances aside, what is AJ saying? He says that he knew it, that Clementine’s leaving and I cannot stand this dialogue. It’s unnatural. Again, I know you wanna dumb it down for all of us because I guess we dumb.... but this conversation does not feel natural. 

“I knew it. You’re leaving.” “AJ....” “I’m coming.”

Even if you changed it to, “I’m coming with you.” it would sound more natural. Hell, he doesn’t even question WHY she’s leaving, he just stands there like “I’m coming” like??? I’m sorry, have you ever heard a single word this murder baby has said? I assume you have because I assume you actually played TFS, right? Soooo.... what happened here?

.....whY DO THEIR FACES LOOK LIEK THAT KSAJDLKJAS:LKDJLKASJD:L--

So now we’re getting into it.... into the bullshit. 

Clementine tells AJ to go back to the school, and AJ says that she wasn’t even going to say goodbye..... and then more bad dialogue that sound unnatural when you try to fucking read it. 

First off.... AJ’s reaction to Clementine attempting to leave is barely anything. Again, I hate to keep questioning if you actually played TFS, but AJ would throw a fucking fit if he caught Clementine out here ALONE like this, attempting to leave. 

And then he says “Like last time? You were going to come back?” this sentence makes my brain hurt. I just.... “Like last time, right? You’re coming back?” UGH

Wow, I feel nothing. 

I’m sitting here watching these two imposters with fucked up faces who are supposed to be Clementine and AJ and I feel nothing. 

I’m not even going to comment on the faces anymore. You can see it. You know. 

So yeah... AJ tells her the #1 rule, and reminds her that she promised.

Y’know.... she promised that she would never leave him again? Remember? At the McCarroll ranch? That flashback that was in TFS? The one you would watch if you played the game? 

Why is she looking straight at me when she should be looking at AJ as she says this? Is this Clementine’s way of telling me she’s sorry for what a shitty direction this is taking? I wouldn’t know because her face isn’t doing anything. Just because you draw a couple of tears that doesn’t mean I’m feeling the emotional heartbreak you’re attempting to convey. 

I don’t have enough middle fingers for this.

Well, my hat’s off to you. Ya did it. Ya fucked up everything single part of Clementine’s character in the span of two pages, I’m almost impressed. 

First off, the baby thing is weird. Why is she calling him that? She’s never called him that, which you should know.

Second, she’s not happy and that’s why she’s leaving. Clementine isn’t happy, and AJ can’t make her happy. Ericson can’t make her happy. So she’s going to go out on the road to.... what, be unhappy by herself? 

I’m sorry, but apparently we need a few reminders here of who Clementine is, because this isn’t her. 

This is Clementine. 

Clementine fought for years to find a home, something she hasn’t had since she was an eight-year-old girl before the apocalypse. The motor-inn wasn’t a home, the cabin wasn’t home, the ski-lodge, Howe’s, Wellington, Richmond, Prescott, none of them were home. 

She struggled for years, dealing with trauma after trauma while out on the road. She went from group to group, watching people she cared about die and she was powerless to do anything about it. Whenever she let her guard down and become comfortable, it bit in her in the ass and left her heartbroken.

She was there when AJ was born. She grew close to Rebecca while she was pregnant, she let herself do that even after everything she went through with Christa. Clementine had a bond with AJ even before he was born, and after Rebecca died, she did what she could to keep him safe, despite play choice. 

She cried when she thought AJ died and when she found him in that car again. She swore to protect him, to raise him right and love him. All they had was each other. 

And when she joined the new frontier and AJ got sick, she risked everything to save him and she was devastated when they took him away from her. When she found out he was alive, she is willing to go as far as helping Lingard overdose [INJECTING HIM HERSELF IF SHE HAS TO] to figure out his location. She did shitty things to find him, she killed people at McCarroll Ranch to find him again. 

Clementine raised him and he is her family, do you understand that? She went to hell and back for him, she taught him how to protect himself, and even though she made mistakes she sacrificed everything for him. She promised him that they would have a home of their own one day, she talked about how much she wished for a world where she didn’t have to worry about fighting and killing and AJ could just be a happy kid. 

She fought for Ericson, she watched her friends die or become mutilated by someone from her past. She allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to pursue a romantic relationship with Louis or Violet because she felt safe with them, felt safe at Ericson because it’s their home now. 

And when Clementine was bit, she thought she was going to die but she still fought to make sure AJ would be safe and happy without her and it was heartbreaking. She’s dying and the only thing she cares about is AJ. Not herself, not what’s going to happen to her after she dies or turns... no, she tries to make AJ smile again, she makes sure he remembers the rules, and she tells him that she loves him. 

Then he cuts off her leg, and she survives. AJ saved her fucking life, and she got to wake up at home and live to see her family again. She got to push AJ on a tire swing, she got to eat a hot meal and laugh with her friends, she got to make plans with her lover/best friend for what’s next for Ericson, and she got to talk to AJ and tell him the truth... and she asked him if she did a good job, and he’s honest with her right back. 

Hell, she tells him to keep her hat. Her iconic hat. The one thing she has left of her father, possibly her more cherished item. She lets him keep it. 

The last time we see Clementine, she’s happy. She’s sitting on the steps by herself, staring at her family with such fondness in her eyes and a smile on her face because she finally did it. She finally found a home where she can breathe. She has a bed to sleep in, she has AJ with her, she has a boyfriend/girlfriend who loves her and who she loves back, she has friends she can rely on. 

Clementine smiles, and lets out a small laugh. 

She doesn’t have to run anymore. 

And now you have the balls to tell me that AJ and Ericson don’t make Clementine happy anymore. 

She abandons everything to go back out on the road again, and that’s proof enough for me that you don’t understand a damn thing about Clementine or her journey. 

“ I don't even know the person I'm talking about... It's like all we have in common is the same name.” 

....Anyway.

Wow, Clementine found a car and kept is stashed. How lazy and convenient for this bullshit plot. 

And this is the part where I have to tell this comic to fuck off. 

What, you think if you throw in an incredibly inaccurate flashback next to a current pair of hugging Clem and AJ that I’ll feel anything but anger? That flashback is a slap to the face. It’s snowing, but the only time we’ve seen snow is in S2 when AJ was a literal new born, so why is he that big? Is that supposed to be from ANF because that ALSO doesn’t look like that AJ, and that’s not the outfit Clementine had on... AND there was no snow. This is cheap and meaningless. 

Any fan of the series who has played through the games could tell you this. 

So.... AJ runs into the woods and then we get this garbage.

This comic is awful. It misses the point of everything TFS, and the rest of the series, stood for. There is no heart here. I feel no happiness in reading it, and I don’t detect any passion behind it. It’s a lifeless comic that retcons everything in order to throw AJ away and start fresh with a new adventure for Clementine that makes no sense because the cow isn’t profitable unless it’s milked. 

This isn’t canon, and it won’t ever be canon, and honestly? At this point, I have no faith in the graphic novel trilogy. It will take a lot to do a turn around from this, and I don’t even know if that’s possible. 

Again, to reiterate, I don’t have anything personal against Tillie Walden herself. She’s just doing her job, and from what I’ve seen of her as a person, she seems like a sweetheart. I don’t want anyone giving her shit because I think the comic isn’t good or that you agree with me. All of my anger is directed at the comic itself, her work, not specifically her.... and a little bit at Skybound, because they’re the reason this is even a thing in the first place. 

So yeah.... there ya have it. 

[oh-so-scenarios]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅiᴘiᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜiɴɢs...♠| 14

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, vulgar language

****Theere are some errors. Please ignore! (Word Count: 8.6K)

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Y/N:

The warmth I’m feeling isn’t coming from the hot shower I just stepped out of. It was a warm feeling in my chest, along with the nervous patter of my heart. So I’m spending the night here? The rain doesn’t show any signs of stopping, and the cracking of thunder is enough to keep anyone inside.

Hoseok gave me a long sweatshirt of his along with some basketball shorts. I used the towel he provided to dry myself off and slip on the clothes he gave me. As I’m staring at myself in the partially fogged up mirror, I get a flashback to what happened in the car. 

My skin still tickled with his soft but wanting touches. I’m also shocked at my actions. I really dug my hand into his pants with no shame. I stroked his dick, and begged for him to fuck me in the back of his car. 

I shook my head, as if to shake off the embarrassment of the past events. As I removed myself from my thoughts, I recognized the sound of another running shower. Hoseok must be using his other bathroom to take a shower. I hung up the towel and grabbed my rain soaked clothes.

I stepped out of the bathroom, my hot skin being met by the cold air that circulated the hallway was refreshing, and caused me to sigh in bliss. 

I shyly looked side to side, staring at the hallway that led to more rooms, and the way that led to the living room. I took small and hesitant steps towards the other doors down the hallway, not sure what I was looking for. 

I came to a door that I thought was a closet and opened it, surprised to see a washer and dryer stacked on top of each other in the cramped space. They were clearly the newest model, and still had that new appliance gloss. The dryer already had something in it, making my stand on my tiptoes to glance in through the clear circular door. I recognized the shirt, and came to the conclusion that it was the clothes Hoseok wore on the date. 

He must have thrown them in here while I was in the shower. I opened the dryer and tossed my clothes in, my eyes reading all the dials before setting them and pressing start. 

The dryer hummed quietly while the clothes tumbled and turned inside. It was only a light vibration as well. Very different from my dryer, which was loud and echoed throughout my place. 

Hoseok is clearly a man of luxury, even with the most simple things. I closed the door and walked down the hallway to the balcony-like area. I slowly made my way down the stairs and to the living room, finding time to gawk around at the decor. It’s simple like Hoseok, yet luxurious. It’s nothing overbearing either. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem like the type to flaunt his wealth in excess. No big mansion with a bunch of unused rooms, but rather a comfortable and roomy condo. I stared into the darkness that was outside, and the other buildings in the distance. 

Seeing as the whole left wall was glass, it made the room feel a bit larger. Small threads of light from other buildings giving me a sliver of the raindrops floating down towards the ground. I watched lightning whip through the sky, the thunder that followed being a loud rumble. 

Speaking of rumble, my stomach makes a grunt sound, reminding me that we weren’t able to get dinner. With my hand pressed to my stomach, I shyly turned towards the dark walk way, strolling up the two small steps and cautiously venturing into the space.

My hands move along the wall hoping to find a light switch. My feet shuffled carefully, and I inched around, trying to keep from crashing into something.

My fingers run across something circular and hit it. Lights come shining on and I wince at the brightness, turning the circular dial to dim it. I look around to see a medium sized rectangular table with a few chairs. It seems to be a dining table, but with different sheets of paper scattered all about. There were opened binders and files carelessly thrown down. 

You’d think Hoseok would have left them in a hurry, so he didn’t have time to clean it up. 

I looked to my left to see some of the kitchen. It was barely visible, but the dining room lights gave me enough to see the switch for the kitchen. I switched the lights on and strolled in, my feet making a slapping noise on the cool tile floor. 

The kitchen matched the penthouse perfectly. All the appliances were a shining silver while the medium sized island, cabinets and all the countertops were a smooth black wood. The tile floor was an imitation of white oak wood that kept the place from seeming too dark. It was spacious and unlike the dining room, very clean. 

Everything has its place and would make anyone uncomfortable to move it. The coffee machine next to the mug rack that was next to the blender, before the gas stove interrupted the smooth countertop. 

On the other side of the stove was a rice cooker and a toaster. All the appliances showed signs of being used, but were cleaned wonderfully. 

I turned my eyes to the large two wide door fridge that had a drawer at the bottom as the freezer. I approach the fridge, staring at it. I glanced around me, as if I was doing something bad. 

Is it okay for me to open his fridge? Should I wait for him to come back before I ask if I can cook something? I reached a hand out to rest on the handle before opening one of the doors.

Hoseok’s fridge was stocked beautifully. All the water bottles lined up like the aesthetic posts I would see on Tumblr. The condiments were organized and all the foods were set in certain places. Now I really feel bad to go in there and mess it up. 

I open the other door and scan all the foods and items, deciding on some beef japchae. I started to take out the ingredients, taking the cuts of beef that were wrapped in one of the fridge compartments. I moved to the cabinets, getting more comfortable as I pulled out the needed items. 

I found all the seasonings and bowls I would need while I hummed a song I heard on the radio. 

I jump slightly when I heard a door closing, followed by footsteps coming down the stairs in a bit of a rush. I keep my eyes on the entrance way that connected the dining room with the living room. It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s figure rushes through, his cell phone pressed to his ear. 

“No, no! Move it to next week! I will not let them threaten me in such a way.” He hissed into the phone, striding to the papers spread out on the dining table. He throws a glance my way, and I notice his eyes move about the kitchen. He saw all the things I took out and looked back at me in question. 

I couldn’t answer, as the person on the phone had grabbed his attention once again. He wore a simple Tee with a colorful graphic on it, along with some black basketball shorts. I giggled at the butterflies building in my stomach. I’ve never seen Hoseok in comfortable clothes like he is now. 

I took a deep breath as my eyes stayed on him. He was looking through the different sheets of paper on the table. He was muttering something, whether to himself or the person on the phone; I can’t be sure. 

His brows furrowed as he stared down, listening to whatever was being said to him. I leaned against the counter, my arm pushing some of the items I laid out. His hair was still damp, and disheveled. Probably the results of a towel being roughly rubbed over it. 

“They aren’t going to get a better offer. I am not going to use my time off to try to prove myself for some petty investment. I won’t call them, I won’t even send out an email.” He barked, rolling his eyes. 

Whoever he was speaking to, was slowly pulling him into a bad mood. My mouth scrunched up bitterly, hoping that work wouldn’t take up all his time tonight. I turned my focus back to the food, taking out the meat preparing it. 

I was zipping around the kitchen, Hoseok’s business banter fading into the background. I put the pot on the stove and got it nice and hot for the beef. Hoseok still stood at the table, making me wonder why he didn’t take a seat. 

He probably was hoping to not waste this night with work as well. His reluctance to sit down showed his effort of finishing the call quickly. 

I glanced towards the rice cooker, now that I wanted to pair sides of rice with the glass noodle dish. I looked in his, his eyes trained down on the table while he focused intently. I took small steps in his direction, my movement catching his attention right away. 

As I got closer, he put a hand on my lower back, turning his phone away from his mouth to look at me. I leaned in a bit, the fresh smell of his soap tingling my senses.

“Can I use the rice cooker?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice down so as to not let my presence be known to those on the phone. 

He smiled and rubbed my lower back in a very loving manner, “Yeah go ahead princess.” Unlike me, he didn’t whisper but spoke loudly, the tiny chatter I could barely hear from his phone had gone quiet. I went back to the kitchen and began with the rice and rice cooker.

“I was talking to my girlfriend.” Hoseok said as a matter of fact. He pauses and scoffs, turning his back to me while his tone grew sharp. 

“Mr. Robins, I told you it was my time off. Don’t act surprised now! You’ve already cut into an important night so might as well finish this.”

When Hoseok speaks again it’s been a few minutes. I’m cooking the beef in the pan, the cackling and sizzling of it in the pan drowning out his words.

“Tell them I said that such petty threats do nothing for me. Let them know that my offer has an expiration date.” He pauses, glancing at me.

“Also Mr. Robins, don’t call outside of work hours anymore. I allowed it in the past, but let’s not make it a habit anymore. So tonight is the last time. But yes, talk to you soon.” 

I turn my focus back to the meat, cooking it evenly before moving it to a plate. I start to put the noodles in the pot with boiling water and move to cut the vegetables I set out.

“Let me help.” Hoseok says from beside me. I jump, surprised to see him so close. His phone was no longer with him and set on the dining table. He looked down at me with a kind smile, his dimples on display as he did so.

“Okay,” I giggle, “Can you cut the vegetables for me?” He nods, and moves to the sink to watch his hands. 

“You made yourself comfortable,” He chuckles, looking over his shoulder at me. 

My cheeks warm up, “See, I knew you were going to say that. I was going to wait to ask if I could use your kitchen but I got hungry.”

We work in a comfortable silence, the sound of water boiling and the clunk of the knife hitting the cutting board. I drained the noodles and checked on the rice in the rice cooker. 

We work efficiently and Hoseok turns to randomly smile at me every few minutes. I giggled each time, asking him if something was wrong. He’d only smile and shake his head no. The noodles were just about done, and I was lightly stir-frying them with the beef and the vegetables. Hoseok was washing the dishes. 

This moment felt very domestic and I loved it. It wasn’t long before I was plating both meals and bringing them to the dining table. I gently moved some of the papers to the side, shuffling others together into stacks. Hoseok swiftly washed the rest of the dishes while I set the table. 

His quick movements revealed just how hungry he was. I can’t be surprised. I’m sure his lunch was earlier in the day, and the rain killed our plans. He saw me shivering and thought it’d be better to cancel the dinner reservation he had for after the movie.

We eat in silence for a bit, our stomachs were crying out for some food. The pleased exhale as he eats has me thanking my mom in my heart. 

The times she’d make me stay with her in the kitchen has come in handy. That’s how she’d try to bond with me, since work kept her away a lot. I naturally picked up on her recipes and at the young age of 12, I could cook dinner for the whole family. 

That’s how the dream of becoming a chef manifested itself. My parents supported it, believing that’s what I was really going to pursue. But it was a phase I held onto for a year. 

“It’s good?” I asked, taking my chopsticks and grabbing my side of rice. I put some rice in my mouth, watching Hoseok for an answer. He chewed and swallowed the noodles before grinning at me.

“You know it’s good.” He answered in a teasing manner, “I might have you over here every night.” He looks down at his food, missing the way my eyes widen at his words.

Have me over here every night? He was too focused on his food to notice my still figure. By the time I snapped out of it, a pregnant quiet fell over us. 

Once again it was a comfortable quiet. We were simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk every once in a while, Hoseok finding something to say that would cause me to laugh. Was he always this funny? 

I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing that he was speaking his thoughts more. I enjoyed it, gladly listening to whatever he’d have to say. 

“What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?” His question was coming out of left field, seeing as he was previously talking about how much he enjoyed the seasoning on the beef. 

“I’ll need to get home then get ready, so probably 8 am. They have me coming in later, since I’m only doing paperwork.” A slight pout on my lips as I spoke. Ugh, paperwork. It’s what I dislike the most about my job but I’ll be confined in my office doing just that. 

“Okay, I’ll drive you home, then to work.” He informs me, taking some more noodles in his mouth. 

I could only nod in response, and we returned to silence. We never really said that I’d be staying the night, but a wordless understanding was met. As I finished my food, I noticed Hoseok glancing at his phone, checking the time. I drummed my fingers lightly on the table, curious if he had something he had to attend to. 

I waited till he was done with his food, looking up to meet my blank expression. 

“What’s up?” He says simply, putting his chopsticks into the bigger glass bowl. 

I lean forward, setting an elbow on the table, “Do you have something to do? You keep looking at your phone.”

He blinks at me, trying to figure out how to respond. The guilty look on his face told me everything I needed to know. 

“I just have some contracts I need to write up. I didn’t want to ignore you while yo--”

I cut him off, vigorously shaking my head. 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I know you’re a busy man, and you weren’t expecting me to be staying here so you don’t have to entertain me. I’ll watch TV or something.” 

He raises an eyebrow at me, his hair now dry and ruffled out like it was just brushed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” I confirm, reaching my hand out to smooth out his hair. 

~!~ 

I only watched TV for an hour before I was growing bored. I grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. I passed various shows, seeing the scenes flash on the large flat screen for no more than a second. I groaned into defeat, deciding that I’d just review some medical notes from my email. 

I noticed my purse carelessly thrown on the loveseat adjacent to me. I stood up, grabbing the pursue and situating myself in that same loveseat. 

I figured that since Hoseok was somewhere in the condo working, I couldn’t disturb him much from the living room. I glanced around me, looking at the spiral stairs that led to the second level. 

Using bluetooth, I connected my phone to the Bose soundbar that the TV was using as an output. Music always helps me study and review. Whether it was patient files or some techniques that I had to brush up on. 

My phone showed that it was 11:47pm. After a long day of work, I would have been knocked out on my bed, knowing that another tiring day was waiting for me in the morning. I took note that my phone was at 56%. I’d had to go bother Hoseok for a charger soon.

I hit shuffle on my studying playlist, and opened up my emails to review patient notes. I won’t be working those cases till next week but it was good to show up prepared. I keep the volume low, leaving it just loud enough to fill the living room. If it’s too loud, Hoseok will let me know. 

I’m looking over files and notes on a burn victim, along with the progress on Mrs. Choi. Her physical therapy is going well. It’s moving slowly but they believe she will walk again, however it seems her motivation is dwindling. 

Her husband shows no signs of progress. He is still in a coma that leaves doctors to truly unable understand the length of the damage he has from the car accident. 

The notes were a lot. Long detailed files and charts for patients. I’ll be the one typing all these up when I head back to work. As the song changes to something with a faster tempo, I start bobbing my head to the beat. Soon my shoulders join in, having my body do a stiff and closed off jig in my seat. 

My attention was on the notes, so I wasn’t putting much effort into my rhythmic movements. I’m sitting there reading for some time, and when I check the time again it’s 12:54am. 

I take a break, locking my phone and dropping it in the loveseat as I stand up. My playlist is still on, a funky R&B song coming on just as I’m walking towards the dining room. I was going to head into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

I stop my steps, letting my hips sway to the beat in the middle of the living room. I close my eyes, mouthing the words and slowing my movements to the breakdown of the song. I let the song get to the chorus before I stroll to the dining room.

I walk to the beat, switching on the dining room lights. I could faintly hear the song, singing the song under my breath now. I don’t bother turning on the kitchen lights. I grab a water bottle like this as if my own home and dash back to the living room.

I barely turn off the dining room lights as my feet shuffle along the floor. I’m back in the center of the living room, opening the bottle to take a sip of water before setting it on the center table. The space between the center table and the couches was enough for me to dance. 

I just felt like dancing, forgetting that I wasn’t in my own apartment. However, Hoseok’s presence somewhere else in this place brought a sense of safety and comfort. The notes were all forgotten about as another song came on,having me rock to the beat. 

I’m circling my hips in a provocative manner, bending my knees and holding one arm up as I do so. I stick my tongue out a bit, feeling myself. My confidence is growing since I’m by myself. Or so I thought. 

I keep dancing, closing my eyes as if it could help me hit the high notes the singer was reaching. The slow winding of my hips momentarily stutter to a stop when two hands enclose either side of them. 

I jump, the touch startling me. I felt Hoseok’s chest against my back and his breath on the back of my neck. I let out a shaky breath as his crotch lightly brushed my butt. I hear his shallow breaths close to my ear. His hands are big, his hands are hot and grip me just right. 

Trying to shake off the hot and heavy atmosphere falling over us, I kept dancing as I was, humming the song as if nothing had changed. My butt brushing his crotch every movement. 

“Are you done with your contracts? That didn’t take too long.” I said over my shoulder. 

“I worked quickly cause I could hear you having your own little party out here.” His voice was playful. He placed a kiss on the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body. 

We establish a steady rhythm, his hips moving with mine. It wasn’t crazy sexual, but I was impressed by how fluidly his hips moved, along with the bit of distance he kept between my rear end and his crotch, like he was worried I wouldn’t like him pressed on me.

“I was reading some notes, but the music distracted me.” I answered, as a slower track came on. Our bodies swayed in a sluggish fashion. I lean my body back into him, my whole body pressed into him. I leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

“I can relate.” He says softly.

“Oh yeah,” I mention, “You said you wanted to be a dancer?” His hands on my hips are replaced by his arms enclosing my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his cheek against my cheek.

He giggles at the uncertainty in my voice, “Is it still hard to believe?” 

“A little bit.” I reply, “What type of dancing did you do?” 

Hoseok inhales and exhales slowly, looking forward like he could see the memorie playing before him.

“I’d dance whatever I could learn,” He says vaguely, “I was just happy to be dancing.” 

“You can still dance...with me. I’ll always be your dancing partner.” 

“Thank you for the offer Y/n...I’ll gladly think about it.”

“I mean I’m no professional, but I can stay on beat, and I like to have fun so you’ll never be bored.” 

He opens his mouth and closes it again, deciding not to speak. 

“But before you can even ponder on my offer, you have to show me your dancing skills! I need to see what you got!” I challenge, and his arms pull me in tighter to him. I could feel the steady hits of his heartbeat against my back.

The song faded to quiet, before another track began. It picked up a bit more than the last track, fun and quick tango beat to it.

Hoseok let me out of his arms, spinning me around to face him. I was astounded by the speed in which he spun me around. He clasped one hand of mine in his. He moved my other hand to rest on the bicep of his arm that had it’s hand placed on my waist. 

He straightened his posture, tilting his chin up a bit while he gazed down at me. 

“Just follow after me okay?” He said quietly, as if we were dancing in secret. 

I tried. I tried to keep up. The first few steps were rough. He was clearly moving a bit slower for me, waiting as I caught onto the basic steps, before he picked up the pace. It was easy to dance with Hoseok after that. 

He was truly leading me, surprising me with some quick spins and other flares of flavor. 

I giggled as he spun me, bringing me close to his body. My chest was falling and rising as I tried to catch my breath, staring back into Hoseok’s eyes. 

It was only a second as he began to move his feet again, having me follow along with the rhythmic steps. 

Now my arm was wrapped around his shoulder and neck, while my other hand was clasped in his. I yelped in surprise as he dipped me. So low I was worried he’d drop me. As he brings me back up, I let go of his hand and wrap my other arm around his neck.

He brings his face close to mine as we stand there, catching our breath. I, breathing a lot more heavy than him.

Hoseok shows a soft smile, wrapping both his arms around my waist. 

“Wow,” I say in-between small gasps for air, “You really can dance.” 

Hoseok chuckles at my dazed expression, leaning forward to kiss my lips. A peck so quick, by the time my eyes are fluttering closed, he is pulling away. 

“Do you want to get back to your patient notes?” He licks his lips, his eyes flickering down to my lips.

I shake my head, “I want you to kiss me again.” 

He hums in response, leaning in close to kiss me again. A short peck, followed by a lingering kiss. His arms around me tightened and melted into him. Our heads tilted as we deepened the kiss. My heart hammering in my ears, and my stomach twisting into nervous knots. 

His lips are soft, warm and welcoming. Everytime we kiss, it feels like I’m trying to get a message of my feelings to him. Hoseok, however, kisses me slowly and in a cherishing manner. Like it’ll be the last time he kisses me, like he needs me to breathe. 

Each and every time, I’m left weak in the knees. My heart is squeezing with delight. He doesn’t always say how he feels. A lot of time he’ll say it randomly or in passing, as if he didn’t want a whole moment around it. 

But the execution of his actions make me feel warm inside. 

The small touches, his hand on my back, the way he’ll pause a work call to listen to whatever I have to say. Picturing him as the same cold gentlemen I met nearly 4 months ago, makes my heart grow in size.

But that also makes me wonder, should I be the first to tell him I love him? Hoseok is so casual about things, whether it’s due to his discomfort or he doesn’t see the significance, that he might not say such words right out. 

The way he calls me his girlfriend now, although he didn’t ask me to be his girlfriend, shows he doesn’t see a need for all the formalities.

He sighs as he draws his lips away from mine, kissing my cheek, my jaw and then a small kiss on my neck. He hides his face in my neck, my arms tighten around him so we were hugging.

I bring a hand up to rest on his hair, “Thank you for such a fun date.” 

“You don’t have to lie Y/n, I know it was sucky.” He says, his lips brushing against my skin.

“It wasn’t at all. I had fun, I always have fun with you.”

“I’m not exactly the life of the party Y/n.” 

“You’re a lot more fun than you think. You’re also a lot kinder than you realise. I know you were probably exhausted, but you still went to the movies with me.”

“And you cooked for me,” He smiles. I know cause I can feel it against my neck and collar bone. I thought he was going to say something else, his statement felt incomplete so we stood in silence as I waited for him to speak again.

When he didn’t I listened to his soft breathing. 

“You’re clearly tired, so let’s get you to bed okay?” I said. He drew back from me, staring at me with jaded eyes, and I could only giggle at the tired pout on his lips. He was totally starting to fall asleep in my arms.

I pinched his cheek and pecked him on the lips before stepping out of his arms and walking over to my phone left forgotten in the love seat. I disconnected it from the soundbar from my phone, and switched it off. 

Hoseok goes to turn off most of the lights, leaving the small doorway light on. I followed him up the stairs, my strides slowing down as we got to the hallway. 

He stopped walking, leaving me just a view of his back. He looked to the door on his left, before turning to me. 

“So here’s the guest room.” He said gesturing to the room. 

I awkwardly nodded, rubbing my hands together and walking closer to him, opening the door to see a plain but nice bedroom.

A larger twin size bed with a desk closet and a TV. 

I stare at the room, knowing that Hoseok was also watching my reaction.

He’s being considerate. He doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable by assuming I’d want to share a room with him, but damn I’d like if he’d at least ask me. I don’t want to deal with the horrifying embarrassment of telling him I want to sleep in the same bed. 

The rain was still falling, the occasional thunder sounding, but this time further away.

“Alright,” I say, turning to face him. I muster up a smile, and open my mouth to speak. 

Hoseok is looking at me with a rigged smile. 

“Good n-”

“Y/n?” Hoseok cut me off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looks off to the side as he thinks.

I blink up at him, knowing what he wants to say. This shouldn’t be a big deal! Why are we both feeling so nervous? I’ve already had my hand around his dick for goodness sake! 

“I want you to come sleep in my room...with me.” He finally looks at me, staring at me with a cute uncertainty. 

I laugh, “Good! My goodness! I thought you weren’t going to say anything!” I chime, stepping out the guest bedroom. I closed the door behind me and saw Hoseok’s scoff of disbelief.

“What?” I ask.

“You were just going to watch me stress like that? Why didn't you say you wanted to sleep in my room?” He complained.

“Oh please! I don’t need to be the one making all the first steps!” I hissed, poked his chest.

“Plus, you’re the one that led me to a guest bedroom! I’ve already had my hand around your dick for fuck’s sake!” I add, giggling and the wink he gives me.

“Do you want it in your hands again?” He whispers, stepping closer to me. I back up, pressed against the guest bedroom door. He smirks at me, placing a bashful kiss on my cheek.

“Stop messing around!” I say, slipping past him while he snickers at my shyness. 

“Or, would you rather have it in your mouth this time?” He jeers. My eyes widen and I start screaming as if to run from the embarrassment that was manifesting it’s in my warm face.

He laughs at my cringing squeals, taking my hand in his and leading me towards the door at the end of the hallway. 

His room is dimly lit, but I could make out the beautiful ivory colored walls. The bed was a large king size bed that sat low. The black bed frame was low, only lifting the mattress off the floor a foot or two. The bedsheets were a rich and dark green, tying together the whole aura of the room. There was a tall lamp that stood on the left side of the bed, and it was the only light on. 

Though it was nothing compared to the lights fixtures in the ceiling, it didn’t leave me completely blind and in the dark. 

I wasn’t aware of how weird i must have looked, standing there, staring at his room like I’d never seen a bedroom in my whole life. 

 He squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my daze.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” I asked, blinking at him. 

“I was saying that the bathroom is that way.” He pointed to a door on the further right side of the room, “It’s the door on the right. There is an unopened toothbrush if you want to brush your teeth.” 

He released my hand and scratched the back of his head. He looked down at the floors as he spoke, making me want to giggle at the embarrassment that was showing itself in his red ears. 

It made me feel better to remember that it isn’t just me that has never had such intimate and close moments with people. Something like having my own toothbrush at Hoseok’s place is a big deal. It’s an unspoken step into new territory. 

“Thanks.” I said softly, walking around him and further into the room. The room was spacious but also cozy. It was pretty simple and showed that Hoseok doesn’t spend much time here. He works all the time so I’m sure he just plops down and sleeps. 

He doesn’t sit in here to relax or anything like that. I heard the door close as I walked towards the bathroom, followed by the sound on Hoseok sitting on the bed.

I brushed my teeth swiftly, admiring the bathroom as I did so. One of those big showers with the tile walls, and glass doors. There was also a big white bathtub on the other side of the room. The sink was large and in the middle of a long rectangular marble counter. I stare at myself in the crystal clear mirror, feeling a bit out of place as I stare at my extravagant surroundings.

I continued to brush my teeth, and rinsed my mouth thoroughly, I set the purple tooth brush in the cup that held another orange brush. I used one of the towels to wipe off any water from around my mouth and walked out the bathroom, shutting off the lights. 

When I step out I’m met by Hoseok laying on the bed, his back to me. I couldn’t be sure if he’d fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to wake him. He was under the blankets, and looked like he’d settled in for the night.

The lamp on his side of the room was off, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. The moonlight shining through the window provided enough light to let me see the outside of his body. I tiptoed  over to the bed, lifting up the blankets and sliding in. The bed and everything around me smelled like Hoseok.

I smiled to myself, and looked up at the ceiling before closing my eyes and turning onto my side. My back was facing Hoseok, and I tried to keep some space between us. I wasn’t sure how much space he wanted. 

I slowly started to fall asleep, the comfort of the heavy blankets and the scent of Hoseok around me lulling me. 

I was barely awake when I felt Hoseok shift beside me, muttering something in a hoarse voice. 

“So far away.” He grumbles, before I felt some more shuffling. He slid his arm under my body, causing me to hum in response, since I was barely awake. 

My eyes stayed closed and I turned my body so I was facing him. That’s clearly what he wanted, as he wordlessly curled his arm up, pushing my body till my head was on his chest. I was too sleepy to say anything. All I could do was cuddle closer and rest my hand on his chest. 

“Are you awake?” He asks softly. When I don’t reply, he shifts slightly so his face is buried in my hair.

I fell asleep peacefully as his hand found my back and rubbed soothing circles.

~!~

“Why did you choose today of all days to follow the speed limit?” I mutter at Hoseok. He chuckles but keeps his eyes on the road. He wasn’t going his usual speed today, and though I find his speeding distasteful, today it would have come in handy. 

We woke up late, which is no surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my whole life. Being in Hoseok’s warm embrace soothed me all the way down to my soul. Although we were running late, he was still in a good mood.

He drove me back to my apartment, waited for me to get dressed for work, and is now driving me to the hospital. I won’t see him most of today, but we agreed to see each other tonight.

As we pulled into the Seoul Sky hospital, I had my passenger door opened before the car came to a full stop. I grabbed my purse, making sure it had everything I needed. 

I leaned towards Hoseok, kissing him on the cheek before kissing him on the lips shortly. Two pecks on the lips before I pulled away beaming at him. 

“I’ll see you later.” I said. 

He showed me a small smile and nodded, “See you later.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard!” I exclaim as I step out of the car, “And remember to eat!”

I close the car door and Hoseok rolls down the window, “Even when you’re in a rush you still manage to nag me!” 

“I nag you because I l-” My words stop short and I clasp my hand over my mouth. Hoseok, oblivious to what I was about to confess, raises his eyebrows at me in question.

“Because you..?” He trails off, but all I can do is smile awkwardly. 

“See you later!” I shout and bolt away from the car. I don’t look back as I jog through the automatic sliding doors. 

“Good morning Dr. L/N!” A nurse calls out to me. I stop in my tracks, recognizing the nurses at the front desk. I smiled, waving at them energetically.

“Good morning!” I chimed. 

“You’re running a little late aren’t you?” The older nurse stated. 

I nodded my head but before I could open my mouth, the rest of the nurses giggled. 

“You don’t have to explain, we could see it through the glass doors. Time moves quickly when you’re in love.” The older nurse said.

I stood there a bit confused before looking behind me at the sliding doors. It really was a perfect view of where Hoseok had stopped the car. I turned back to the nurses who were cheesing at me. 

  “It’s wonderful to have you back Dr. L/n, let us know if you need help with anything.”

I thanked them, heading to my office quickly. I was in a rush so I settled on some black dress pants and a blue dress shirt. My hair was styled in a rush so it looks decent. I made it to my office, happy to see it again. It wasn’t locked, which is strange but I didn’t think much of it. I set my bag down and grabbed my white coat. I pulled it on quickly and went to my desk. 

All I’ll be doing today is paperwork so I might as well get comfortable. I took my seat and turned on my computer, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Jennie waltzed in here with all the work I’d have to do.

The computer switched on quickly, but something else took my attention. On my desk was a red envelope. I waste no time opening it, thinking it was a welcome back card. Oh how I was wrong. 

Dear, Y/n. I am so glad to have you back. The whole department has felt incomplete since you left. I was very hurt when Jennie informed me that you weren’t allowing anyone to visit you as you recovered. You did not answer my phone calls either. I was sad to hear you got hurt and fell down the stairs. It seems your boyfriend isn’t taking good care of you. But I am glad you have recovered fully. Please come see me when you have the chance. This may be inappropriate but the absence of your presence has helped me realize something. 

Sincerely Taemin. 

I stared at the letter in confusion. Now what the hell is Dr. Lee doing? What is this? My face scrunches up in annoyance as I read over the letter again. This is completely inappropriate and leaves me feeling uncomfortable. 

I’ve turned down Dr. Lee’s advances before, taking them as jokes but by the sound of this letter, he wanted me to take his advances seriously. I ignored the login screen of my computer and stood up from my chair with the letter in my hand. 

I stepped out my office and headed down the hallway, knowing that Dr. Lee would be making his rounds instead of being in his office. I’d have to go around a bit before finding him. But sitting on such an issue would leave me unable to work all day. 

I rounded the corner, greeting regular patients with a small smile. Some of them told me they missed me and others smiled at me with shining eyes. For a second I forgot about the awful letter Dr. Lee left for me. I am back at work and even though I’m stuck with paperwork, the atmosphere was enough for me. 

I turned around a corner and crashed into a familiar person.

“Hey, there you are!” Jennie chimed. She smiled at me, wearing her usual red lipstick and that iconic slicked ponytail was just as sharp as ever. Her eyelashes look really long and she looked happier than usual.

“Yup, I’m back to work. It feels great.” I answer. 

“I’m sure your date yesterday went well? You’re radiating happiness.” She mentions.

I raise an eyebrow at her, “Am I? Cause I'm pissed off.”

Her brows furrowed and she looked concerned. The question she was about to ask was clear.

“No, it has nothing to do with Hoseok. The date was...amazing.” My tone softens at the mention of Hoseok.

“So what’s got you so angry, so early in the morning?”

I handed her the letter, watching her face expression change as she opened it and read it. 

The humorless laugh that struggles it’s way past her lips makes me wanna scoff all over again.

“This is weird.” She groans. 

“It’s very weird.” I double down, “This is totally inappropriate. You know I am chill about many things, but I don’t like stuff like this at work from co-workers! How many times have I rejected him? This isn’t harmless banter anymore.” 

I speak in a low voice, watching as different nurses and doctors pass us. 

“Are you going to bring this up to Hose-”

I cut her off, “Of course not! I haven’t seen a jealous Hoseok and I don’t think I want to. He’ll come in here and scare Dr. Lee. Working here will be even more uncomfortable.”

“I know he’s on the second floor.” She says, and points towards the elevator not too far from us. 

“I can’t be sure how he’ll react so could you come with me?”

“Of course! Did you think I was going to let you do that alone? Let’s go!” She takes hold of my arm and pulls me along. 

While in the elevator she tells me about all the awful comments he’d make while I was gone. Jennie brushed most of them off but a few were too much.

He’d say, “Where is that boyfriend of hers?”

“That guy looks controlling. She doesn’t want me to visit her or he doesn’t?”

And a few more that were totally unfitting for a work environment. She wasn’t even going to bring it up to me, but she didn’t expect ‘love letters’ to start becoming a thing.

The elevator doors opened and before we stepped off we could hear chaos. Jennie and I looked at each other in disarray. We stepped off the elevator to hear loud yelling and shouting from different people. Other patients were running away from the noise, telling us that it was coming from our right.

Our stroll turned into a speed walk, and I hid the letter in my lab coat pocket. We turn the corner and the yelling is louder. 

We see Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin, a newer doctor standing outside a familiar hospital room.

“Mrs. Choi?” I mutter to myself. Jennie and I approach the situation, Dr. Lee being the first one to see us. I don’t miss the way he smiles when he spots me. I had to fight a grimace off my face.

“What is going on?” Jennie askes, catching Dr. Shin’s attention this time. She moves her focus from Jennie and right to me. 

“Oh thank you goodness you’re back Dr. L/n! Please calm these ladies down!” She cries, running her fingers through her auburn hair. 

I take a look into the room, the door being wide open. There was Mrs. Choi screaming at the top of her lungs at another woman. This woman was a lot younger than her, looking to be in her late 20’s. Her hair was long and brown with soft waves. She wore stylish jeans with boots and a lovely top and a lovely trench coat. 

From the wonderful jewelry on her neck and the rings on her fingers, she’s clearly someone who is well off. Both women were red in the face while they screamed at each other.

“Who is the younger lady? Why haven’t you called security?” I looked at both Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin. 

“Well…” Dr. Shin hesitated to speak, looking down at her feet in guilt. 

“So I was wonder why Mrs. Choi didn’t have any family? She was feeling so down lately and her husband wasn’t getting any better. The psychical therapists said she was losing motivation in their sessions so I tried to help.” Dr. Shin looked up to find my dubious face expression.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “What did you do?” I hate how accusing my tone was, but the hospital Dr. Shin transferred from told us she would cause trouble. A lot of nurses have been avoiding her. Some say she’s too spunky, and focuses too much on making her personality shine through.

“I did some digging and it turns out she has kids! There was no information on the son, but I was able to find her daughter! So I invited her daughter here as a surprise.”

Both Jennie and I groaned. 

“You can't do things like that!” Jennie scolded.

“I know, I know! But I didn’t think things would turn out like this!” She whined.

I couldn’t say anything to Dr. Shin as the argument between the two women was escalating.

“What is the daughter’s name?” Jennie whispers. 

“Her english name in Helena. We don’t know her Korean name.” Dr. Lee answers. 

“You don’t get my pity mom!” Helena shouts. She’s standing at the end of her mother’s bed tears running down her cheeks. 

“You set me away! You pushed everyone away! You tricked yourself into believing dad was a bad person because you wanted an excuse for falling out of love with him! You could have just divorced him!”

“You don’t know what I was going through!” Ms. Choi shouts back.

Helena snaps back just as quickly, “You sent me away! You sent me away from you, dad...Hobi.”

Hobi? Who is that?

“I sent you away because I wanted you to be safe! I love you Helena!” Mrs. Choi’s voice was growing hoarse from the screaming and  I was getting ready to jump in.

“Bullshit!” Helena spits, “Bullshit! You sent me away and never called. I never even got a fucking letter. I grew up without you. I graduated college without you. I moved on with my life without you. You never cared for me. You were so fucking focused on Hobi! You just wanted me out the way. No one would tell me where the fuck Hobi was so I couldn’t find him to even attend dad’s funeral.”

Dad’s funeral? So Mrs. Choi’s husband who is in the coma, is not the father of her daughter?

She vigorously wipes her tears off her face, “You keep telling yourself you did what you had to when in reality, you’re just a shitty person.”

“Am I?” Ms. Choi croaks, “Am I really that awful because I thought I deserved to be happy?” 

“Your journey to happiness left a path of destruction for everyone else. You’ve lost you fucking mind if you believe anything you did was okay.” Helena’s voice toned down. The both of the basked in the heavy silence. 

Helena let out a solemn chuckle, almost like her mother was the joke.

“Well, mom,” she emphasized the word ‘mom’, “Did you find the happiness you wanted?” I couldn’t see her face fully, just her profile...but she reminded me of someone.

She shows her mom a sarcastic smile, “I mean look at you. Look at where you are. Your new precious husband is stuck in a long sleep and they don’t know when he’ll wake up. Your legs aren’t working and you’re all alone. I only showed up so I could get the years of hurt off my chest. So since you can’t run away…” She gestures to her mom in the bed. 

“I’m gonna finally say, fuck you mom. Dad was never the bad guy. Hobi might have been gullible enough to believe your foolishness but I always saw right through it. It was you...it was always you. You don’t deserve any happiness.” She finishes, glaring at the old woman staring back at her with sad eyes. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that. I will waltz in here every day and remind you that this is a product of your own choices. When you’re ready to apologize I’ll listen.” She grabs her purse from the guest chair and turns to face all of us at the door. 

Her eyes flicker across  each of our faces and I feel a prick in my chest. I feel weird. Should I know this lady? Something tells me I should know Helena but I’m drawing a blank. 

She pushes past us and down the hallway.

No one speaks to Mrs. Choi and she doesn’t speak to us. We all can only shift in discomfort. No words could bring comfort after such harsh lashings were thrown. We can only look on in distraught cause for some reason...the pity we’ve felt for poor old Ms. Choi was no more. 

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Alrightty, what did you guys think?! Things are progressing right! We’re moving into the next phase of the story! Yay! 

Tell me what you think? What do you think will happen next? How do you feel about Mrs. Choi? Was she right in what she did?

Inbox me too! I love hearing y’alls thoughts!

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

Oh, my love (pour me that jack and coke)

Summary: only one more time won’t make any difference, right?

Warnings: FWB!harry, smut. Just the life I wanted to live, honestly.

Wordk count: 3K (small one, sorry, my job and uni are kind of hard right now)

My masterlist

A/n: heeey guys I’m back this time with a fic for @stylesharrys 10k celebration. I got the prompt FWB!harry: “you’re alright, love? You seem a bit flustetered”. Don’t forget to support the other authors who are participating on the challenge HERE. And the singer they listen at the festival that takes place in the flashback is this ONE. 

PREVIEW

Natalie Portman was dancing with her pink wing on the tv and y/n could feel Harry’s eyes on her, hands touching her right arm in a flirtatious behavior. He was wearing a white shirt and black running shorts. She looked at him and his intense eye stare was running through her, she was feeling his desire; the sensual scene only adding to the fire that was always between them and since last satuday increased to a wildfire. She wanted to sit on his lap and give the actress on the tv a run for her money, giving him the best lap dance ever. 

“Have you ever recieved a lap dance?”

“Yeah. Have you ever given one?”

“No” she said timidly, suddenly feeling insecure.

“Do you want to give me one?” Harry asked with hooded eyes and a smirk on his face, tha last rays of sunshine paiting his face a beautiful golden tone, letting his eyes look clear, almost blue. 

“Do you think is a good idea that we do this one more time?”

He smirk at her, his hands fully incansing her face:

“I mean... only one more time won’t make any difference, right?”

They were sitting together at the coffee just down from their work place. Y/n was staring at the judgmental eyes of her best friend, Natasha. Her black eyes looked like two grapes because of her wide stare. 

“It’s not a big deal” y/n said, drinking from her cappuccino with a douple shot and a hint of mint essence. 

“He’s your best friend”

“Who can I trust more to fuck me without breaking my heart than my best friend?”

“You don’t think NOTHING could go wrong?”

Nat was raising her voice, a little bit surprised that her childhood friend just told her that Harry fucked her just  6 days ago, at the Lights festival

“I don’t know if I want to know more or ask you to never talk about it”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell you if the rumors are true?”

“You are a little bitch. Tell me all of it”

6 days ago...

She was seeing the worlds in colors. The woman singing on the staged was called Sevdaliza and she had the most sensual music ever.

Harry, just like her, was high and they both ended up loosing their friends in the middle of the crowd. Y/n looked at Harry with his glittery yellow shirt and white jeans. He looked like he fit the part: graduated from film school, always writing poetry and reading them at the coffee next to his house. He was celebrating: his script was going to be shot, the small production office decided to endorse his project and he was on cloud nine.

Quite differently from the time she met him: undergrad student, insecure about his art. She worked as a designer and photographer and met him at a visual arts masterclass a few years back, when they were both on their early twenties. Now, each day closer to reaching the big 30s, they were the best of friends. Always together.

Y/n always thought they had nothing but friendship, but now, so close to him, listening to Sevdaliza voice melt the audience of the festival, with his cinnamon smell so tangible in the air and his bird warmt so close: she wasn’t so sure if it was just friendship.

And she can’t deny, she was curious if the rumors were true: was he THAT good in bed or all the lovers of his she ever met were just easily impressed?

What she didn’t spect was for Harry to also have the same questions. He was just behind her getting closer and closer till both of his arms were around her waist and he was crouching so his face could fit like a pluzze in the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

“You smell good” Harry said in a low voice that was meant just for her

“H, what are you doing?”

“I was just wondering...” he was using his hands to turn her around but not releasing her from him, his nose touching hers, his mint breath blinding all of her senses “we are so good together, always helping each other out, figuring it out exactly just what the other wants. So... maybe... you and I could make quite a pair on the sheets...” that only thing Harry got wrong the night was about the sheets: they fucked in her living room.

Now

If you ask y/n she doesn’t remember who kissed who. But they kissed till the show was over and next thing she knew they were sharing a uber back to her place. Nat was staring at her like she had comitted a crime. She wasn’t planning on telling anyone, thinking it was a one time thing. But she was surprised when during a presentation during work she god a text from Harry asking if she wanted to go back to his place after work and maybe have a repeat of last Saturday and Nat was right beside her.

So she had to tell. But judging by Nats reaction, it would have been better if she had lied about it.

“You’re still going to his place. Even if you know what might happen?”

“I mean... is another time really going to make any difference?”

Latter that day

The bus was moving slowly, the 5 o’clock traffic was the worse: nobody had patience, everybody with a 9-5 job was just crazy to finally get home and be able to rest.

From the bus window y/n could see the sky painting the city, the golden light was starting to make itself aware, combining with the aesthetic of the old buildings and bridges.

That’s probably one of her favorite things to do: observe the town she lived in; that city was just so beautiful. There was a contrast of the old with the new. The sun reflecting on the river, calm as ever, while people were running across the streetwalks, dreaming of a homecooked meal and a place to rest.

The bus was taking a left, ready to cross the revolving bridge. Harry’s place was getting closer and she could feel her stomach starting to turn with anxiety  all of it in the forms of butterflies.

Harry’s place was above an old movie place, people say the building dates back to the 1930s: 5 floors, the first being an old movies that still worked, only showcasing indie movies and oldies from the 40-80s. She remembers the first time she ever visited Harry, they talked for hours to end and then they went to the screening of a Doris Day festival. She went home that day singing to herself the theme song of the movie Pillow Talk, thinking to herself why she never went to an old movie theater till that day.

After getting off the bus, she walked just around 10 meters till she was face to face with the old movie theater sign. Today they would have a screening of shorts films from the 40s from 6 to 8 pm and then they would showcase the new movie based on Gloria Steinem’s best seller memoire called The glorias. Maybe if they were done till 10pm she could catch the movie.

Harry’s apartment was on the second floor, with a wooden door, a cat tapestry underneath saying: meowcom. She never thought it was funny but when they saw it at the street fair last year he laughter so hard at it she decided to give him as a Secret Santa gift.

“Don’t you look tired yet dashing this fine evening , miss” said his voice once he opened the door. Stepping aside so she could come in.

She went for a hug, he went for a kiss: they nocked their foreheads.

“Fuck why does your head have to be so big” she asked while taking her shoes off and walking towards his strawberry shaped sofa.

“You can’t expect me to be a movie genius with a small head, right?”

“The question is: what head are you talking about?”

“You know I have both heads quite big, so I don’t know why you asked” he took her purse from her, resting the object on the small table he had set closer to the door so he could always throw whatever he had in his hands there. Y/n took the moment to appreciate how he looked today: baby pink flare trousers and a graphic shirt, he was barefoot but with his rings still on his fingers; she knew he got home not too long ago.

“Harry what is that smell” she was referring to the tangerine smell that was all around his place

“Oh, it’s this tangerine essence oil I got from my upstairs neighbor... you know that one that always reads your tarot?”

“You’re talking about the witch?”

“Yeah, she prefers to refer herself as Wicca but yeah, her. She gave it to me to clean my energy now that I have this big project. And it smells quite nice, doesn’t?”

“Yeah it does” she could feel his eyes on her while she was playing with her nails “so what do you wanna do today?”

“I was thinking we could watch a movie here and then we can see where we wanna go from there?”

“do you have any jack and coke?”

He smirked at her and said:

“With ice?”

The night was young and it was only starting...

After a few glasses and a heated conversation about what movie they were going to watch, they both settled for closer because of the crush they shared on the cast.

Natalie Portman was dancing with her pink wing on the tv and y/n could feel Harry’s eyes on her, hands touching her right arm in a flirtatious behavior. He had changed his outfit, now wearing a white shirt and black running shorts. She looked at him and his intense eye stare was running through her, she was feeling his desire; the sensual scene only adding to the fire that was always between them and since last satuday increased to a wildfire. She wanted to sit on his lap and give the actress on the tv a run for her money, giving him the best lap dance ever.

“Have you ever recieved a lap dance?”

“Yeah. Have you ever given one?”

“No” she said timidly, suddenly feeling insecure.

“Do you want to give me one?” Harry asked with hooded eyes and a smirk on his face, tha last rays of sunshine painting his face a beautiful golden tone, letting his eyes look clear, almost blue.

“Do you think is a good idea that we do this one more time?”

He smirk at her, his hands fully incansing her face:

“I mean… only one more time won’t make any difference, right?”

With that being said, he turned the movie off and she got up from the couch, going to the bathroom and started to look at herself on the mirror

“You know what you need to do. You’ve never done it yourself but you know, I know he has more experience but he is your friend. Nothing can go wrong because he can help you. You both thrust each other and when it comes to sex consent and thrust are the two most important things. You have both with him.”

While y/n was having a mental breakdown over a lap dance, Harry was excited with the idea, cleaning the pizza they were eating and taking the now empty cups of jack and coke back to the kitchen.

He didn’t tell anyone but he was so glad they fucked last Saturday. It just made everything better. She didn’t have to know about how he always had the hots for her. She didn’t have to know that sometimes he would take people to his bed and picture they were her. And she definitely didn’t have to know that another time does make a difference to him.

Diming the lights and looking for the perfects songs to go on about this night. He was shaking with anticipation. After choosing to just play Childsish Bambino (you can never go wrong with that guy) he sat on the couch and that was the moment she opened the door of his bathroom. She had taken off her pants, just with her social shirt loose on her body, with the buttons down to the middle of her chest, her hair always messy and her very colored lips looking so delicious, just waiting for him to say “come here” and she would go... like a little puppy.

“I have never done this so you need to be nice to me”

“Darling... I’m always nice”

She walked over to him, but stopping halfway, going on her fours and crawling her way to him.

“I still have a lot of bite marks on my boobs that prove the exact opposite” now standing in front on him, on her knees, spreading him open, with her tint hands massaging his thighs, marking her way to his short “you don’t mind if I take off your shorts right” she was with her face inching closer to his legs, resting her head right on top of the tiger tattoo, teasing him “I have never given someone a lap dance but I do know that the less clothe, the better if feels”

With both of her hands she took off his pants while he got rid of his shirt. Standing still she admired his body, why did she waited so much to get on it with him? He was soft on the sides but with a strength beneat the bones, with a few abs and chest bigger than most. Green fucked up eyes and rosy lips. He deserved to be on all of the screens, all of the stages, not living in a small flat above an old movie theater.

“You know” Harry broke the silence “for one to give a lap dance she must actually be on top of him”

She didn’t answered him, instead sitting herself on his knees not allowing him any more than that touch. With the tips of his fingers he started to trace her face, admiring her. She was a beacon of light, with every color shining inside her eyes, every sin could be found in her lips but every prayer was found on the way she would blush at his words.

Putting her hair behind her shoulder she got closer and closer to him, using her knees on either side of his body to help her move. Feeling his warmth. She didn’t know how to give a lap dance but she knows him. She knows what makes his knees buckle and what makes him shiver. She was going to make him her little puppy. So with all the confidence she could muster, biting his vein that was always apparent on the neck, her hips started to move.

He was semi hard but the more she moved, the more she could feel him getting harder. That was one of the things she loved the most about sex: the foreplay.

“You know” she got back to talking, not stopping her hips, using her hands to tease all of his body “when we are like this is when I remember how much I’ve always wanted you”

“Fuck, love. You’re going to kill me”

“Oh my love, you have not seen a thing” with one of her hands she started to take off her shirt, leaving her with a rose gold brallete that matched her barely there panties “You alright, love? Look a bit flustered.”

She was mocking him, trying to copy his British accent but that only got him a side smile while his eyes were fixated on the way her nipples could be seen through the piece of glittery fabric. She was having so much fun

“You know” Harry said trying to get a bit of his control back “when you talk like this, you drive me fucking mad” with one hand climbing on her back, till he reached for her roots, tugging on it, now she didn’t knew it she was the one in control  “when you mess with my neck, or when I pull your thighs further apart and I can feel just how wet you actually are and then you kiss me and I’m closer to the point of no return”

With a hand behind and knee he got up, changing position and spreading her all over the tapestry on the floor, the fluffy blood red velvet matching with her skin. He now had the upper hand and he was going to make a good use of it.

With his kisses going down her neck, he started to rut his body against her. Her moisture could be felt throught his underwear and there was nothing that Harry wanted more than to fully ravish the defenseless girl panting underneath his tattooed body. Glistening with sweat and moaning without an ounce of regret.

He wanted her to know he was the only one that could do this to her. With his hand playing with her breast while the other was getting closer and closer to her mound, he looked at her. With her open mouth and closed eyes, out of a painting that deserved its place on the Louvre. He decided to use her own words against her:

“You alright, love? Look a bit frustrated”

“You asshole just fuck me already”

“Yeah, I’ll fuck you good. But only if you promise to stay the night”

“Is this really a good idea?”

“One more time won’t make any difference, right?”

Laughing at the irony she pulled him closer. They had a deal... because it won’t make any difference, right?

But it did.

[caysophia]

Sam Guthrie x Reader (f, smut) Dirty thoughts

"..."-actual talking

'...'- y/n talking with others telepathically / others responding to her

y/n pov

I rolled around my bed a little thing to get comfortable "Good morning. It's 8:30..." Rang out the speaker in the corner of the room. I groaned and sat up, pushing my hair out of eyes and rubbing my face "We get it, we get it." I groaned and stood up slowly from my bed walking over to the dresser of clothes and getting dressed.

I put on a black flannel, some ripped jeans, and some slides. I sat down at the metal and wood desk in front of my bed and put on some mascara and eyeliner, not a lot as it looked like it was gonna rain.

I walked out of my room, an actual room. I walked down the many halls to the bathroom to do some stuff and then going to the cafe to make a cup of tea, it was a tea day today. I opened the metal and glass double doors being the first one in. I boiled some water and prepared my tea, it was just black tea with honey.

I stood at the counter hearing footsteps, they weren't heavy so it isn't Sam or Roberto.

'Hello' i said as the person walked in, it was Dani "I forgot you were telepathic, to early for that y/n." she said with a laugh 'sorry, I don't t feel like talking right now.' i said and she nodded "We going mute today? or just not in the mood?" she asked as she sat down at the table closest to where I was." I cocked my head and thought about it.

'not in the mood right now.' i thought as I bent back making my back crack, and stretching out my neck "What are you doing today? It might rain." Dani asked as she stood up grabbing a random fruit from a bowl on a metal counter.

I poured the boiling water into a mug and stirred it 'I think I'm just gonna head back to my room, or go into the lounge. oo the attic to maybe, the rain sounds so nice up there.' I chuckled and she smiled 'what about you?' I asked as Dani threw away the apple core "I don't know, I have more testing." Dani said as Rahne came in, she waved and we waved back.

"Hey!" Dani said as the girl walked over, I waved again and pointed to the door "See ya y/n."Dani said with a smile "Bye y/n."

I exited the cafe with my cup of tea and walked around wasting time before seeing same down the hallway coming towards the cafe 'Hey starshine.' i said and waved, he waved back and jogged down the hall slightly meeting up with me 'Morning handsome' I said with a wink, he rolled his eyes "You just gonna invade my thoughts now." Sam said and I laughed talking another sip of tea 'Of course, I always do.' i chuckled.

'Im gonna go outside. bye-bye country boy.' i said as I took a sip of tea "See ya." he nodded his head as he fixed his hat. I and sam split ways, I walked down the hallway more making it to the front exit of the building 'Reyes please open the front exit door' and heard the door open 'thanks.'.

The metal doors closed behind me, over the forest beyond the gate were dark clouds 'Nice...' i walked over to the concrete block that sam used when he goes into rocketship mode. I jumped onto it and sat down, The placement of the block made it perfect to watch the sky and field at the same time.

I spent a few minutes there, completely spaced out (like no thoughts, no hearing, head empty) I felt a tap on my shoulder "What the fuck!" I screamed and also spilling the cup of tea on me. I jumped off the block and turned towards the person who touched me. Rahne put her hands up in the air "Woah, chill. Didn't mean to scare ya. It group time." I raised a brow "It's only like 9:30..." Rahne shook her head "It's 11, you've been spaced out for a while..."

I looked at Rahne "I-" I stuttered out and laughed "I-yeah okay, time for a group I guess... let's go, thanks for getting me." I thanked Rahne and grabbed the mug, and walked towards the door. I poured the cold tea into the dead bushes and walked in the building dropping the mug off at the cafe and then heading to the group.

Rahne walked into the room sitting down next to Dani "I'm glad you could make it y/n. Did something happen?" Reyes asked as I froze, the room went quiet "head went empty, no thought." I said quietly and sat down in between Roberto and Illyana, Illyana chuckled 'Shut the fuck up blonde bitch.' I smiled and she glared.

"Okay, now that everyone is here, let's start," Reyes said with a smile. I looked around the room making eye contact with Sam. Sam shook his head slightly, I smirked 'hi.'  he rolled his eyes fixing his hat 'Yeah?' i smiled slightly looking at sams sitting from up and down 'You looking kinda cute today.' Sam locked eyes with me 'I know where this will lead, no. Not now.' I pouted 'You're no fun...' i pouted, sam scoffed out loud "Yes sam?" Reyes questioned looking in between me and him "Nothing, sorry." Sam muttered out and looked at me, Reyes nodded "Y/n, stop please." I nodded and looked at the floor, Reyes went over ways to control the powers of the other.

"Why is y/n here?" Illyana blurted out stopping Reyes mid-sentence "What do you mean Illyana."  Reyes fixed her posture in her seat, I looked at Sam 'I've been here for a year, how the fuck does she not know?'  Sam shrugged his shoulder 'She doesn't like you, you know that. She's just trying to cause trouble.'

"She doesn't have any powers beside for fucking physic powers." Illyana scoffed, I laughed at her. Reyes looked at me "She is here just like everyone else. Something happened, putting her and others in danger." Reyes said softly glancing at her "You do realize, telepathic powers are mind not just mind linking right?" I questioned the blonde looking at her "It's the power of invading the mind like Mind Control, Illusion Manipulation, Psychic Torture. I could fuck with your mind so hard that your safe plane wouldn't be a thing anymore." I threatened and Reyes snapped her fingers, just something she found out stops me from hurting things...

"Well, what you do? kill your parents?" Illyana mocked and I laughed "kind yeah. I lost control and made a bus driver drive a bus into a body of moving water and everyone drowned. Besides for me somehow." I said in a smart ass tone fighting the lump in my throat 'im going to fuck this bitch up, either making her see smiley men or just giving her an uppercut to the jaw.'  i said sam and cleared my throat. Reyes wrote some notes down "Ok, we're done here. Everyone can leave." I stood up and walked to sam and gave him a fake smile, Illyana bumped into my shoulder and smiled "Sorry." she laughed 'try me, you'll see smiley men.' i smiled as she glared at me and walked out. "What did you just say?" Sam said as he throws his jacket over his shoulder "Oh nothing." I smiled and grabbed his hand and left the room.

I and sam walked to the lounge in silence, my mind rushing with flashbacks from the crash. Even though I didn't get hurt, it still haunts you. When we got to the room Dani and Rahne were already there turning on the Tv "Hey guys!" Dani said in a happy tone "Hey." me and Sam said, sam going to the foosball table with Roberto, I jumped over the couch next to Rahne "You talking now?" She asked I shook my head "Oh boy, ill be doing more than talking if Illyana tried anything." I said and looked at the tv, a random movie turning on.

Rahne patted my shoulder "Hey, she stepped over a line. Yes. But you can't make her live through her fears." I laughed  "Okay." I said and looked over the couch to sam 'You looking kinda hot right now.'  Sam shook his head not stopping the game to respond 'what? You're not gonna respond?' i teased him, no respond 'Your asking for it. watch it.' i waited for a response nothing. I turned around and watch the movie on tv.

3rd person (it's gonna start getting graphic and smut.)

Y/n continued to tease and bother sam more and more, making him lose a bunch of foosball games against Roberto "Well you suck." Roberto laughed as he fixed the players on the polls, Sam rolled his eyes and put the ball in the middle "Is y/n talking to you through brain waves for some shit." Roberto laughed and took the first hit Sam laughed and started to play "Oh no, definitely not." Sam laughed.

'You're not talking about me, are you?' Y/n voice popped into sams head, Sam rolled his eyes 'Why would I? It's not like you don't invade my head every day.' Sam replied y/n chuckled from the couch where her, Rahne, And Dani were sat watching a movie 'You're too cute sam, you know that? Oh and don't even get me started about how big your hands are, I wouldn't mind them on me.'  Y/n teased, sam took a deep breath not wanting to lose the game but also not wanting  Y/ns comment to go to his head.

'Oh come on big boy, don't ignore me. I can see your breathing patterns change.' Y/n said making sam frustrated, and groan "Oh my." Sam glared at him "Stop it."

'You wanna leave the lounge? go up to my room and see what is a coal miner does to the body?  I bet it does wonder.' y/n flirted, Sam scored a goal against Roberto "Imma go, see ya." and sam left, y/n rolled her eyes "I'll be back." and left the room after Sam.

Y/n exited the lounge going after sam "Sam!" Y/n yelled down to him as he walked down the hall ignoring her "Sam! come on, stop it."Y/n said as she ran down the hall trying to catch up to him. Sam continued to ignore y/ns calls as he walked down the hall, he was embarrassed and a little angry.

'Sam, come on. I'm sorry okay?  I should've told you earlier and tried to stop, okay but it's hard when you hearing the thoughts of everyone around you .' Y/ns voice echoed through sams head, sam stopped and turned around to face y/n who was only a few feet away from him "Why?" Sam asked, leaving y/n confused "Why what?" Y/n gave a nervous chuckle worried about what he was gonna ask.

"Was it all a joke? Just something to get a laugh at?" Sam scoffed y/n laughed at his comment, leaving sam confused "What?" Y/n bent over laughing before catching her breath "Oh my! you are clueless Sam. You don't think I would've made sexual jokes for fun? I might be a bitch but I don't play with feelings sams." Y/n said with a smile, Sam glanced down at Y/n "Sam! I like you your clueless puppy!" Y/n Yelled but not loud enough for the group down the hall to hear.

"Oh so- oh... oh." Sam said out loud as he thought, he smirked at y/n "Ill take you up on that offer." Y/n laughed "Bet." and with that Y/n grabbed Sams wrist and the two of them ran down to the dorms.

Y/n pulled Sam into her room, locking the door and covering the camera in the corner of the room, y/n turned around taking off her shoes, sam already doing that  "You ready?" Y/n smirked, "As all hell."

Y/ns pov

Sam pushed me onto the bed and got on top of me. bringing sam into a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck one hand in his hair and throwing his hat off.  "You are a naughty girl," he said looking at me in the eyes, I winked "I know." bringing him into a rough kiss letting him lead. Sam started taking off his flannel and shirt, I doing the same.

I pulled sam back into a kiss now just in a bar and jeans. Sam kissed down my jaw and onto my neck leaving hickies and bites. I moaned once he hit a spot right below my jaw, he worked on the spot for a while before moving to my chest. His hands traveling down to the hem of my jeans. Sam looked up "You ready?" He asked I nodded. Sam Unbuttoned my jeans and sticking his hand in.

He started playing with my clit with us thumb, "wet already ?" He said smirking, I moaned "just fuck me Sam " I moaned, throwing my head back fisting my sheets in the bed, "not yet baby," he said inserting his middle fingers. I arched my back and moaned "s-Sam f-faster " I said breathless moaning, Coming close to an Orgasm, he inserted two more fingers going faster, I was a moaning mess "I-I'm cL-close " I moaned out and came on this hand.

He licked his hand clean, and took off his jeans, and stroked his penis, he groaned and I flipped us around so he's on the bottom and I put his member in my mouth it was at least 10 inches so there was still a good amount not in my mouth so I rubbed the exposed part. "Y/n," he said putting his hands to his face before grabbing my hair.

After a while, he comes into my mouth.

I looked at him and started kissing him, giving him hickeys down his jaw and next, while my hands went down his abs, I gave him hickeys on his neck where he couldn't hind them and down his stomach. After Sam flipped us so I was under him, he put a condom on and slid in me, I moaned his name digging my nails into his shoulder blades leaving marks. Sam groaned giving my neck hickeys. "I-I'm close Sam," I said moaning. San put my hands above my head and held my hand. "M-me too," he said and we both released, and plotted down next to me. Both of us out of breath.

"I bet you don't like dirty thoughts anymore huh?" I joked Sam chuckled.

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[angeltrapz]

oosdkk dude im sorry ur mood dropped too.. i hope u feel better soon <3 but like i wld love 2 hear more abt ur thoughts on Art in general bc Boy Is He Interesting, and also a lil more abt Daniel coming out as nonbinary to his dad (whether he knows Eric is trans or not at that moment skjdfhdskf)! + if ur feelin it just more abt Mallick in general ESP cuz we agree that Brit doesn't make it thru V

djhfjdks thank u sm <3

okay Art first. I genuinely wonder abt him so much, something in specific I think abt is that aside frm Amanda (+ Eric, obviously, but talkin abt disciples) Art is one of the only trap victims EVER 2 be tested twice and it’s like... what’s that abt? Why? as u’ve said b4 it rly depends on how you personally view his character: whether he’s a disciple or not. fr me, both options are equally plausible, n honestly I don’t rly confine myself to either; it sorta depends on what I’m feeling/writing. if we’re talking abt art being a disciple, then the Spinecutter not going off (one of my BIGGEST questions) makes total sense, as Hoffman’s side of the trap was never set up to work either, + Jigsaw disciples have a history (aside from Lawrence) of appearing as victims in other tests/traps. if he were not just another pawn and was in fact a disciple himself, then the Spinecutter was never meant to go off - it was there just to make Eric think it COULD go off/make it look convincing to outsiders. which brings me to ANOTHER question: what does Art know abt Eric? does he know anything? what does he think of Eric?

(lil side note: if Art is a disciple, then I kinda wonder if it’s a lil bit of a Hoffman + Lawrence situation where Hoffman didn’t know abt Art either? just bc he looks so shocked when he sees Art’s face fully fr the first time... that could’ve just been acting on Hoffman’s part but IDK. food fr thought)

personally, I feel like Art probably does know a lil bit abt Eric - at the very least, he’d know tht Eric had been previously tested + failed by John’s rules, but then I feel that he wld also know Eric didn’t rly have a chance in his second test. that is why Art trying so fucking hard to keep Eric alive is interesting 2 me: what is his motivation 2 do that? like he’s been told Eric’s basically just there to get Rigg to participate, he doesn’t have any personal obligation or anything like that. sure, the aim is to keep Eric alive + see if Rigg can pass his “test,” but nobody said anything about grabbing a man you barely know around his ankles to keep him frm hanging himself w a noose made of chains. nobody said anything abt speaking to him so softly, not even raising your voice beyond saying “hey,” and asking him do you understand? when you tell him to keep still and prevent him frm killing his counterpart (which, if Art is a disciple, he knows it won’t, but he still speaks to Eric so softly, so compassionately, doesn’t he?)

nobody said anything abt grabbing him around the waist and steadying him again after being punched by said man. but Art does that. he stabilizes Eric’s feet on the ice as best he can and he keeps his hips straight and he basically says “look, we’re all stuck here, you need to keep it together ‘til that clock counts down if you want us to live, but I’m giving you a choice,” and he presses the gun w the single bullet into Eric’s hands and tells him it’s up to him. nobody said Art had to care but he does, I think, and it’s just like. he really didn’t have to keep Eric alive over the course of Rigg’s test. he didn’t. but he did and I just,, where does it come from? why does he care? this is even going beyond the fact that we’ve talked abt them being together after their test in a scenario where they both survive - I just think that Art at his core is a very stubborn but very compassionate person, whether he wants 2 be or not. like he HAS to know that kind of involvement cld prove to be extremely detrimental but he cares. I feel like that says a lot abt him (even if he does call Eric an asshole a couple times while doing it,,).

plus I also just. I think his reason for being tested (as it seems to be in most cases) is extremely flimsy. he was doing his job. he’s a LAWYER. often times it has nothing 2 do w personal feelings; they’re there to do their job and sometimes, unfortunately, that is defending possibly reprehensible people (in cases like Rex’s & Ivan’s). + John was already upset w him regarding their argument abt the urban renewal group so like it just feels So Very Petty, y’know?? even in the scenario where he IS a disciple, testing him twice seems entirely like John having a personal vendetta against him. Amanda is the only other person to be tested twice aside from Eric, so like. what. is that abt Mr. Kramer.

like I’ve said b4 in dms one could argue that Art is grey morally, bc we never rly see anything of him outside of flashbacks + acting as a test controller in IV, esp given that he... rly doesn’t seem too bothered abt it all? which is fair. but I also feel like the concern he shows towards Eric is smth to be considered as well.

-

+ YESS NONBINARY DANIEL I know I’ve mentioned it b4 but for reference, I read Daniel as masc nonbinary (he/they)! so I feel like Daniel wld b pretty comfortable w his identity, he’s never rly had a reason not to be (it’s rly anyone’s guess here tho bc we never see Eric + Daniel + Kate... as a family unit, for obvious reasons), so I feel like he’s vry chill abt it? and in the scenario where Eric survives n is dating Adam, I feel like Daniel wld talk 2 him abt it first (Adam is an adult they quickly come to trust + he’s vocal abt being trans himself so there’s that added layer of understanding - other than his mom maybe Adam might b the first person they come out 2). they’re just kinda like “so I wanna tell my dad I’m nonbinary but like I’ve literally never thought abt coming out what do I do” and Adam’s just like. Aha. bc he knows Eric is Also Trans so like, he doesn’t tell Daniel that bc it’s not his info to share, but he’s definitely like “oh it’ll totally be fine. trust me you have no reason to worry” so Daniel’s just like Okay. I Got This

+ I know I mentioned this in dms but Daniel wld absolutely wear those floral ripped hem skirts over jeans, so I feel like on one of his visits to his dad’s, he just. wears that combined w a completely random niche graphic tee he bought when shopping w Adam (I adore this hc n I am Holding Onto It) n is just like. not super open abt it bc he doesn’t know what to expect? he just kinda waits fr Eric to comment on it but when he doesn’t, Daniel gets nervous n is like “do I look okay?” and Eric’s rly chill abt it, like “yeah! it looks vry cool, vry alternative.” n like Daniel is relieved, of course, but also he’s just like God Pls Say Something so he just comes out w it like “okay this is not working. I’m nonbinary.”

and he’s COMPLETELY SHOCKED when Eric is just like “oh why didn’t u say so? do u have a different name u wanna go by? is Daniel still okay?” bc he wasn’t sure how much Eric knew, so he’s just like “uh no Daniel is still good, he/they pronouns though” and Eric’s just like alright cool but internally Daniel’s just like ??????

n THAT is when Eric asks him 2 come sit out on th front steps w him n is just like. “I don’t think I ever told u this but I’m trans. I transitioned during training in my early 20s” n Daniel is nodding while internally he’s like Adam I’m gonna throttle u. he worked himself up fr NOTHING. he just kinda laughs abt it and Eric is like “are u good?” ‘cause he’s a lil worried but then Daniel just smiles and is like “yeah I’m fine! just realizing I had nothing 2 be worried abt” and it’s a rly good moment fr them. they sit out there together talking abt their experiences for quite a while n at some point Adam steps outside 2 find them deep in conversation + he just smiles n goes back inside bc he cares abt them both so much and seeing them talk like that makes him so 💞💞 (Eric is SO PROUD u can see it on his face)

-

ohhh gosh Mallick,,, I spend a lot of time thinking abt him actually. he’s just one of those characters I feel vry connected to (me 🤝 Mallick: Ambiguous Disorder 💕) n one I got surprisingly attached to? hello (he IS one of my f/os)

I feel like Mallick is a very lonely person at his core. the way he sort of clings to Brit (w out the whole like. adrenaline of being in very very real danger w ppl trying to kill u SEVERAL TIMES) somewhat confirms this fr me. this is someone who has no reason to look out fr him, no reason to keep protecting him when their fellow captives hit him over th head w a club or attempt to push him into a bathtub to ELECTROCUTE him, but she keeps doing it and he’s just. in awe of it a little bit? ‘cause she could just let Charles knock him tf out or let Luba push him in but she fights for him, some1 she has no obligation to n met fr the first time literally when they woke up.

the moment they share b4 they stick their arms into the saws to activate the 10 Pints of Sacrifice is so very vulnerable and maybe even a little tender. yes he calls her a monster, yes she calls him one back, neither of them deny it. it’s an admission and an acceptance. they’re monsters, sure, fine, okay. but they are monsters and they are in this together. Brit tells Mallick it’s okay when he says he can’t do this alone. she says okay, okay, it’s okay, we’ll go together. and they help each other secure their tourniquets and they stick their hands in together bc it’s the two of them, literally hand in hand, fighting for their lives n for each other n they’re in so so much pain but they are doing it TOGETHER. I lose it thinking abt it!!! they even have a head bonk moment!!! I very much feel like it has some cinematic parallels to Adam & Lawrence’s moment in SAW 2004!!!!

+ as u mentioned, we both share the thought that Brit likely died since she wasn’t present at Bobby’s meetings, and. I want to touch on how fucking despondent and lost Mallick looks when we see him again in 3D. lights on but no one’s home. I feel like for Mallick, losing Brit was losing the first chance at a real connection he’s had in god knows how long - and for him, that’s just very shattering. he’s been thru hell, he’s watched three people die right in front of him, he sawed his ARM IN HALF, n the person he went through all of that with didn’t make it. but he did. and I feel like for Mallick that’s just like... he doesn’t understand it. but he feels even lonelier than he ever has b4 because the One Person who was there w him thru it all, the one person who could ever possibly understand what happened that night, is gone.

the Mallick we see in V would NEVER sit down n willingly listen to Bobby Dagen’s bullshit abt loving yr scars n taking pride in the fact u survived. he wld hate that man with a passion n I am very much sure of this. the fact that he’s sitting in that chair looking numb and glassy-eyed and silent? Mallick is trying to find some1 to connect to, find a place where maybe he belongs. trying to fill that hole that losing Brit made. why else wld he be sitting there, listening to someone he would ordinarily tell to shove his self-love bullshit up his ass? he’s lost. he’s just trying to keep his head above water and find a way to shore even though everything in him is fighting not to. he’s adrift without her.

+ ALTERNATIVELY, bc the reality of that is just. crushing n maybe not where I needed 2 go, in the scenario where Brit survived + just doesn’t want to put up w Bobby’s bullshit, I imagine them to actually move in together after a lil bit of time getting 2 know each other better w out the pressure of “oh god we’re gonna die.” she kinda helps him build up a sense of self-worth bc GOD it’s practically non-existent n thinking abt possible reasons why makes me sad. she’s definitely just like “no, you do deserve to be cared for and you deserve help when you need it, you deserve good things n to be happy.” she just kinds shuts it down while still making sure to talk 2 him abt WHY he feels that way (she’s not dismissing, but she’s trying to nip it in th bud) n Mallick is just like. huh. bc no one’s really done that fr him before. but it rly does end up helping in the long run, even if it is a very slow pace toward actually getting 2 a place where he recognizes his own worth + realizes he deserves all the things he wants Brit 2 have too. they’re there for each other thru thick n thin and if they made it thru their game, they can make it thru anything.

[dimpled-gukkie]

Blossom

A/n: Sorry this fic is long overdue but I finally finished. I hope you all are safe and healthy and hopefully those of you struggling can find solace in this fic. 

Pairing: Mafia Member!Jeon Jungkook x Reader/ Florist!Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, mafia au 

Word Count: 21.2k 

Warnings: Guns, Knives, Violence, mentions of blood, murder (not super graphic), explicit language, kidnapping, car accident, self-hatred, mentions of sex, innuendos, flashback scenes, death, anxiety, heartbreak 

Summary: “Blossom, blossom, blossom. As unexperienced as I may be in the field you really didn’t think I’d only bring one weapon did you? It’s no wonder your gang has gone to shit ever since your dad died, it’s clear that you’re incompetent as well as incapable of being a good leader.” He laughs, raising the gun to point at you. You raise your own and he just smiles again before setting his weapon down. “You know what, how about we do this the old fashion way? I heard guns weren’t your specialty anyways.” Shrugging off his coat you spot the long dagger tucked into his waistband. “Cmon sweetheart, show me just how dangerous you are.”

The bell above you chimes as you enter the flower shop, the tension in your shoulders leaving as soon as you smell the floral scent. Ever since you were little you’ve loved flowers, earning yourself the name Blossom. It’s a little ironic to be named after something so delicate given your profession but you prefer the irony. Nothing like showing those arrogant little boys how the big girls play. Your eyes dart to the yellow roses sitting in the corner and carefully you make your way over there, your boots thudding as you walk. You take a brief moment to brush the pad of your finger over the soft petal, pondering taking them home. The sound of approaching footsteps startles you and you jerk away from the flowers, the small smile on your face morphing into a scowl and your eyes harden. 

When the figure rounds the corner, you don’t even offer them a greeting before blurting out, “I need three bunches of monkshood.” 

“Ahh, so I see common courtesy isn’t your forte.” The figure smiles sharply at you, eyes glinting like the point of the knife tucked into your belt. You grunt and roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest as you stare him down. The man holds your gaze, brown eyes darkening to nearly black, his body language matching your own. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he holds your gaze for a beat longer before sighing and turning away. Only then do you let your guard down enough to take in the man before you. He has platinum blonde hair, the strands nearly white, and his dark roots peak through when he leans forward to wrap your bouquet. He’s wearing a white sweater and a simple silver bracelet although it looks quite expensive. He must have some other business besides this hole-in-the-wall florist shop. Like he feels your eyes on him he looks up and for the first time in a long time you feel intimidated.”That’ll be $30.” He says gruffly, punching the number into the register before turning it towards you. 

Your eyes flick to the spot where he grabbed them, the sign catching your attention. 

“The sign says 5 per bundle.” 

“I’m charging extra for pain and suffering.” He deadpans, sticking his hand out to you, palm open. The disrespect and attitude he’s giving you is infuriating and yet you do nothing. Well, maybe you’ll do something later. You’re in a hurry. 

“I don’t think that’s legal.” 

“I’m not sure you’re so innocent yourself sweetheart. You know those mean that death is near right?” Touché. You don’t say anything else to him, throwing the money on the counter before swiping the flowers and storming off. “Hope to see you again sometime!” He calls, the sarcasm so pointed that you feel it cut right through you. 

The bundle of flowers is clutched tightly in your hands, the brown wrapping crinkling as you shift the bouquet from hand to hand. Jungkook is late and you’re running on a tight schedule. “Where is that prick?” You mumble to yourself, jumping when lips press against the shell of your ear. 

“You talking about me sweetheart?” Jungkook whispers, laughing breathily as you shove him away from you.

“You’re late.” You deadpan, already heading inside. The security men on the main floor of the building pay you no mind as you head straight for the elevators, their heads turning in the opposite direction as you wait for the doors to open. 

“Time is relative you know, maybe you’re just early.” Jungkook winks, a smirk pulling at his lips. You roll your eyes and press the button for the top floor, repeatedly pressing for the doors to close. 

“I think you’re confused. It’s me who calls the shots not you.” You say causing his smirk to widen, his eyes darkening as he shoves you against the elevator wall, his body flush against your own. 

“That so?” He quirks a dark eyebrow up, his midnight eyes boring into your own. The lust swirling in them makes heat pool in your stomach and you struggle to hold his intense gaze. Your pride makes you lean forward, your eyes fluttering at the proximity. Your lips are a centimeter from his own and you find joy in the way he sucks in a shaky breath. 

“If I say you’re late, you’re late.” You whisper, relishing in the way your lips brush his own with each syllable. When you pull away, Jungkook licks his lips and his cheeks are now the same color. “What?” You smirk back at him, placing a hand on his chest. You can feel his heart pounding against it, the elevator static with the electricity buzzing between you two. “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you lean your upper back against the wall. 

Jungkook glares, a warm hand wrapping around your waist and landing on your lower back, harshly pulling you into him. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he presses his lips against your own. Hungrily he pries your lips apart, his hands gripping your hips as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He groans and your hand moves to the nape of his neck to pull at strands of his hair. You missed the weight of his hands on you, the heat of his body pressed against your own. 

The elevator dings and it takes everything in you to pull away, especially when Jungkook looks like pure sin. His lips are swollen and bright pink, hair mussed in the back from your fingers. You swallow loudly as you stare at him, the movement of the doors beginning to close catching your attention. Jutting your hand out, you slip out of the elevators when the doors reopen not checking if Jungkook is following. You know he is, you can feel his heavy stare on your back. You check your reflection in a nearby window, smoothing out your clothes and hair. Your eyes linger on Jungkook’s reflection, standing tall and protective behind you. 

You ache to reach behind and grab his hand in your own, to claim him as yours and you his, but as you feel the uncomfortable press of your knives on your thighs you know it’s impossible. You and Jungkook will never amount to anything more than lost lovers, broken souls taking comfort in each other. He’s your temporary home, one that’s always on the verge of foreclosure. You can’t have him forever and it keeps you awake at night.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder before retracting it. 

“Just fine.” You snip, adjusting your clothes one final time before heading into the board room. “Hi boys.” You smile, taking a seat at the head of the table as Jungkook flanks you. 

“You’re late.” The man across from you snarls, and you throw the bouquet to him. 

“Got you a present. Besides, isn’t time relative?” You can hear Jungkook snicker behind you and smirk. The man across from you looks you over slowly, and you cock your head at him. “Can I help you?” You growl just wanting to get this over with. 

“Next time you want to have a quickie before a meeting, make sure to fix your appearance.” 

“The fuck you just say to her?” Jungkook growls, his gun cocked and loaded before you can even blink. The man appears to be unfazed by the gun aimed between his eyes but you can see the slight tremor in his body. You raise your hand to Jungkook and he reluctantly drops his arm down but keeps the weapon at his side. Standing, you smile at the man, brandishing the knife you’d been holding since he looked at you funny.  

“What was that?” You ask, coming behind him to place the blade against his throat. He swallows, gasping slightly when the knife presses into his skin and a trickle of blood flows down his neck. “Sorry I didn’t hear you. I think you’re gonna have to repeat it.” You say lowly. 

“I-I said you- you look lovely!” He stammers and you nod at Jungkook stepping away from the man and returning to the head of the table. The man visibly relaxes, his hand coming up to his neck to press against his small cut. 

“You wanna know something?” You ask him and he and his colleagues nod frantically in means to appease you. “I hate liars.” As soon as the words leave your lips a bullet is in between the man’s eyes and his body slumps back in the chair. The two men flanking him are frozen before they turn to you with wide eyes, pleas leaving their lips so quickly they’re unintelligible. “Enough! Do you know why I’m here?” You ask and the man on the right smiles weakly. 

“To bring us flowers?” He tries to joke, laughing awkwardly before closing his eyes at the sharp look on your face. 

“You know why I bring flowers? It’s not just because they call me Blossom.” The mens' eyebrows draw together and you smile wickedly at them. “I bring them as a way of warning. If only people studied their meanings.” You drawl, walking around the room to grab the bouquet. You wipe the blood staining its brown wrapping on the nearest man’s jacket sleeve and bring it back with you to Jungkook. “You know what these mean?” You ask and both men shake their head making your smile widen. “Death.” A knife lands in the man to your right’s chest and he slumps into the chair, his eyes still wide open. You might close them later, it’s creeping you out. The last man standing shakes violently in his chair and you place the flowers back down on the table. “So tell me, just what happened to my last shipment?” 

“I-I don’t know.” His voice shakes and a small part of you pities the man. What a horrible way to die.

“Jungkook did I not say I hate like liars?” You ask and Jungkook grunts lowly. 

“You did.” 

“So tell me, just why did my shipment go to MKJ? And just where did my money go?” 

“I-I don’t know. Boss mentioned something about them paying a higher amount. I- I had no part in it, I swear.” 

“So you sold my order.” 

“Ye-yes.” The man puts his head down in shame and you nod acceptingly. 

“So where’s my money?” You ask, grabbing the man by the back of the neck to pull his head back up. 

“Processed already. They-they probably used it to buy more equipment for the weaponry.”

“I’m sure you know I want it back. So what’s the password to the account?” 

“Interlude” You let go of the man as he trembles and text the password to Taehyung, your resident hacker. He’s lucky and can do all his work from home and you smile at the thought of all the money that’ll be in your account when you get there. You’re gonna milk the place dry. “Any last words?” 

“What?” The man exclaims but the feeling of Jungkook’s gun placed against his skull quiets him. “But I told you the password.” You can’t look at him in the eyes so you turn away, hand on the door. 

“Yeah but you still lied and I hate liars.” The only thing you can hear is Jungkook’s finger pulling the trigger, the silencer doing its job and not alerting the other workers to the murders that just occurred. “Call Jimin to take care of the rest.” You murmur to Jungkook, leaving the room quickly. 

You end up walking home, wanting to busy yourself rather than sit in a car and relive what just happened. You should be okay with homicide, immune to guilt, but the human part of you is horrified by each murder you commit. You can’t stand to look at your hands, the metaphorical blood caked on so thick that they’re a twisted maroon color. Feeling your hands shaking you clench them tightly at your sides, trying to steady your breathing and relax. In your business you can’t show an ounce of weakness, a sliver of vulnerability, because the snakes around you will exploit it. The only person who’s really seen the real part of you, Y/n, is Jungkook. Jungkook is the only one who can slip off your mask, see the scarred and broken girl hidden behind the name Blossom. But because of who you are, the monstrosity of your mask, he’ll never give you what you want. He’ll never make a life with you. You’re just the girl he sees behind closed doors, the one he only whispers that he loves amongst bedsheets. And the lonely part of you clings onto this, your love for him drowning out the doubt, the fear of the heartbreak to come. Because as much as you wish for it, Jungkook’s loyalties will never lie with you. 

A car honks at you as you continue you walk down the street and you roll your eyes expecting Jungkook to be hanging out the driver’s window but stiffen when you notice a pistol instead. You drop to the floor in a second, the glass from the window behind you shattering on top of your body. Shaking from adrenaline and fear of being alone with a gunman you push yourself off the ground, wincing as the glass cuts into your hands and take off down the street in the opposite direction. You can hear tires screeching as the car u-turns and push yourself to run faster, hands fumbling with your phone as you call Jungkook on speed dial. He picks up instantly and you strain to focus on his words while trying to find a shop to duck into. “Hey where are you? You okay?” Jungkook asks as gun shots ring behind you. You gotta find a place to hide and fast. “Shit. Are those gunshots? Where are you!” Jungkook yells and you recite the nearest street name as you turn to run down it. You spot the flower shop from earlier and sprint towards it, not bothering to try and listen to Jungkook. “Y/n? Y/n!” Jungkook screams as you slide onto the floral shop’s floor as the car speeds by. Panting you lay on the floor, the phone lying limp in your hand. Jungkook’s now talking to himself, a string of curse words leaving his mouth. You smile a little, heart warmed by the fact that he’s worried. 

Bringing the phone to your ear you mumble, “I’m fine.” He lets out a loud sigh of relief before demanding your location. “Uhhh… I don’t know the name actually. Just the flower shop on the same street.” 

“Is there a reason why you’re laying on my floor?” A deep voice rumbles and you crane your neck to find the snarky blonde from earlier. Groaning you lay your head back down ignoring him. He taps you with his shoe repeatedly making you swat his leg away. “Get up. You’re making my floors dirty.” Glaring at him you reluctantly stand up, moving to crouch behind the bunches of flowers in case the car circles back around. 

“Is someone after you or something?” Yoongi asks skeptically. Turning away from the window you stare at him and he sighs before running a hand through his hair almost nervously. “You get ten minutes before I want you out. I don’t need anyone like that coming here.” You’re not sure what he means when he says anyone like that but the slight worry in his eyes intrigues you. You glance back to his rolex that’s at least $10k and can’t help but wonder if flower boy is more than just your local florist. 

True to his word flower boy lets you stay for ten minutes exactly before pushing you out of his shop like some unwanted animal. Jungkook stops the car in the middle of the street, getting out to pull you into his arms. He lets out a shaky sigh, almost like he’d been crying, and you can’t help the way your heart stutters. Maybe you and Jungkook do have a chance. You don’t get long to ponder it though because he pulls away just as quickly, nodding to flower boy who stands in the doorway of the shop before climbing back inside the car. Flower boy’s face is expressionless and makes you a little uneasy. “Thanks for harboring me flower boy.” You joke and he rolls his eyes. 

“Just what I need, a fugitive on the run.” He says dryly. The corners of his mouth quirk up and you grin at him. 

“I’ll see you around flower boy.” 

“Yoongi!” He yells over Jungkook’s honking as you turn to get back into the vehicle. 

“Who was that?” Jungkook asks, his jaw ticking. His fingers tap against the steering wheel in an annoyed manner and you lean back against your window to smirk at him. 

“Be careful there Jeon, some people might think you’re jealous.” He glares at you and you giggle. “Aww do you care about me?” You tease, reaching over the center console to pinch his cheek. He slaps your hand away and flips you off which only makes you laugh harder. When you settle down and wipe the tears from your eyes you say, “he’s the owner of the shop. I think we’re friends.” 

“You have a friend? I’m shocked.” You slap his bicep, completely offended. 

“I mean we’re friends aren’t we?” 

“Yeah. Friends.” Jungkook says the word pointedly, almost like it’s left a bad taste in his mouth which confuses you. It was his decision to stay friends, saying he could only be friends with benefits at most. But now he says the word like he wants more. Does he? Or was he simply reminding you of what you both are? What you’ll only ever be. Why does this have to be so confusing? 

“Jungkook I-“ 

“Get down.” Jungkook interrupts and your eyes widen. Twice in one day? Well you shouldn’t be surprised since you’re the leader of a big gang and all. Folding your upper half against your thighs you hold your breath, your heart racing in your chest. Even though you’ve faced near death many times, you’ll never get comfortable with death knocking on your doorstep. Ironic since you’re a killer yourself. You should be comfortable with dying and yet it’s one of the things you’re scared of the most. But you trust Jungkook, so as he gets his gun out of the waistband of his pants you take a deep breath. You’ll be okay as long as he’s with you. Jungkook curses under his breath and you panic when you notice him roll his window down, his gun pointed out of it. Is the car pulling up next to you? Sitting up despite Jungkook’s command you pull out your knives, hoping to at least nail your attacker with one if you and Jungkook are ambushed. In some instances a surprise knife can win in a gun fight. But at least if you and Jungkook do die, you’ll die trying. Reaching over you squeeze Jungkook’s hand in reassurance and also to feel his hand in yours for what could be the last time, your chest tightening as the car idles up beside you. The passenger door opens and you launch your knife, blinking confusedly as you hear a voice very similar to Jimin scream. 

“What the hell Blossom?” Jimin yells, appearing in front of Jungkook’s window. He pays no mind to the gun resting in front of his face or the surprised look on Jungkook’s, only to the knife lodged in the exterior of his car. “I just got this wrapped.” He whines, stroking the side of his car with a pout. Yanking the knife out with a huff he hands it back to you, reaching into the car to unlock it before climbing into the backseat. “Why would you throw a knife at me?” Jimin asks as the car behind you honks, breaking you and Jungkook out of your haze as he presses on the gas, his gun lying on his lap. You take it from him and stick it in the cupholder, uncomfortable with it lying so freely with the safety off. 

“We thought you were someone else.” You say, looking through the car mirrors. “I got shot at earlier.” 

“Oh really?” Jimin asks excitedly. “It’s been so long since I got any action.” 

“That’s because the last time you got a little too carried away.” You turn in your seat to scold him.

“Okay so I got a little trigger happy, sue me. I got the job done though didn’t I?” Jimin huffs, raising his palms in a defensive manner. 

“Yeah but there were so many casualties the police thought there was a serial killer on the loose. We don’t need that kind of press.” 

“You make me sound like some kind of psychopath.” Jimin whines and you and Jungkook look at each other knowingly. 

“I hate you both.” Jimin glares with his arms crossed as the two of you burst into laughter.

When you return back to headquarters Jungkook returns to his stoic self, face void of any emotions. He goes back to acting like he doesn’t care about you, like the only reason he interacts with you is out of obligation. Sometimes you wonder if he actually does feel this way, his acting is so good. You sigh and run a hand through your slightly damp hair, moistened by the sweat from the stressful encounter earlier, and watch as his back disappears from view.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jimin asks and your eyes widen for a second. 

“What are you insinuating Park Jimin?” You ask with a pointed gaze. 

“You can drop the whole Blossom act babe, it’s just us three in the house. Besides you expect me to not notice two of my closest friends are in love with each other? You’re not exactly subtle about it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Jungkook and I are just friends.” You say monotonously from having to repeat it so many times. 

“Only’ll go as far as fuck buddies huh?” Jimin’s tone is pitying and you hate it. You hate that he’s so observant, that he somehow knows your exact situation. Did Jungkook confide in him or is Jimin really more intuitive than you thought? It’s hard enough to be vulnerable in front of Jungkook and you love him. The thought that Jimin can read you so easily is unsettling. “He talked to me about it when he was drunk. That’s how I know.” What is Park Jimin, some kind of mindreader? 

“Did he say anything else? About- about us?” You can’t stop the question from falling from your lips, not when you can find out what Jungkook is thinking. Sometimes when you’re just cuddling in your bed after catching your breaths after sex, you’ll talk about random things. But you can’t help but feel like he’s holding back. Like there’s something on the tip of his tongue that he bites back. You wish he’d just say it, just end it if that’s what he’s been thinking. You don’t know how much longer you can take this before it breaks you entirely. Before you’re so far gone that you lose all sense of yourself, that the you you were pre-jungkook is gone entirely, lost amongst your murky memories. You worry you’re already past the point of no return. 

“He wishes things were different. He just kept repeating that over and over. That he wishes he could go back and change the past.” Jimin’s eyes are rounded with sympathy and you wish you’d have never opened your mouth. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Jimin places his hand on your arm and you shrug it off, wanting to be alone. To get out of this suffocating atmosphere, away from the damning thoughts running through your mind. He must not want you anymore. He wishes you’d have never hooked up that one night two years ago. That he didn’t fall in love with you. He must regret you. You can’t fault him for it. How could someone really love the monster you’ve become? “I’m gonna go take a shower.” 

“Y/n I- it’s not the way you think.” You brush off his comment and skirt around his outstretched hand, not wanting to hear what Jimin has to say anymore. You’ve already reached your conclusion. If he doesn’t want you anymore and he’s too chicken to tell you, you’ll end it yourself. 

Walking into your bedroom you slam the door to vent out some of your anger, but mostly to give you some release from the overarching sadness. Two years, two years about to end like they’re nothing. You hop into the shower so you can pretend your tears are droplets of water letting the warmth comfort you. If you close your eyes you can pretend the warmth is Jungkook, which only makes your heart break further. Your chest aches, slowly throbbing. It’s like you can physically feel it breaking, each piece dropping to your stomach and making you queasy. You stay in there even as the water runs cold and your skin forms goosebumps. It distracts you from the sudden emptiness you feel. Just how much of yourself did you give to Jungkook? When you step out the house is eerily quiet, seemingly void of all life. How ironic given how you feel. Flopping down onto your bed in just a towel you stare at the ceiling. You wish you were Blossom, hard-headed and apathetic. You wish you couldn’t feel anything, that nothing meant anything to you. That Jungkook meant nothing to you. 

Your door opens and you jump, drawn out of your somber thoughts. You don’t have to look up to know who it is. Only one person would bother coming in with this much nonchalance. “What’s up with you?” Jungkook says, closing your door and flopping down beside you. “I just finished training and thought I’d come up since the house is empty.”

“What are we doing Jungkook?” 

“I mean I thought we were about to have sex but-“ 

“No I mean what are we doing? You clearly don’t love me like I love you and I’m just hurting myself, wishing for something I’ll never have. We should just end it here before I get hurt any further.” Your heart is pounding, eyes watering as you stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re doing this for the best you tell yourself. Jungkook is silent and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly like you can hide from the situation. 

“You think I don’t love you? You think I don’t mean it when I say it.” He laughs but there’s no humor in his voice. Just malice as his hurt takes the form of anger. “You know I don’t just say that shit. I say I love you because I do. Because you-“ He pauses and you can’t help but turn your head to look at him as his voice wavers. Tears silently drip down his cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, only staring at the downturn of his lips. 

“Because I what Kook?”

“Nevermind. It clearly doesn’t mean anything to you.” 

“It does! I’d give my life for you Jungkook and it scares me that I feel this way about you but I don’t know if you’d do the same.” You’re both crying now, staring at each other with frowns on your faces. 

“If you have to question it then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He murmurs, placing his hand on your cheek before finally making eye contact with you. You don’t know what to say, know what to do, so you kiss him. You kiss him with everything that you have and hope that the feelings you have for him are felt through it. His other hand finds your hip and pulls you up to straddle him. 

“I’m sorry.” You murmur between the kisses you place along his neck. Both his hands are on your hips and your towel is held between your bodies which are tightly pressed together. 

“I know. I’m sorry too. I-I’ll try harder, for you.” He gasps when you bite down on the junction between his shoulder and neck, his grip tightening. Your mouth finds his own again in thanks and you sigh against him as his tongue swipes on your lower lip. Jungkook and you have never been very good at voicing your feelings, much preferring the silent conversation of meaningful glances and physical touch. It’s easier this way, to be vulnerable. 

“I love you.” You say, pulling back and hiding your face in his neck to catch your breath. 

He nudges you with his nose to get you to look back up at him. “I love you too.” He whispers and for the first time it feels like a dagger; the realization that although he loves you, it’ll never never be enough to be with you, carving in deep. 

“Get up bitch, we got trouble.” Jimin yells, storming into your room and waking up you and Jungkook. Groggily you sit up, still emotionally exhausted from your conversation with Jungkook and the stress from literally running for your life. 

“Ever heard of privacy Park?” You ignore the way Jungkook scrambles away from you to continue the facade that the two of you are just friends, despite Jimin already knowing about you two. 

“You really think you have privacy when this place is lined with cameras? I don’t even want to know how many tapes the two of you have probably made. Although maybe you like that sort of thing.” Jimin teases and both you and Jungkook flip him off. 

“You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I used to share a bath with your nasty ass.” 

“You wound me.” Jimin sighs dramatically before flopping down onto your bed. “Anyways, I just came here to tell you that two of your boys just got killed in a low-level trade so I’m assuming MKJ discovered that their little rats are dead.” 

“Jimin they were still people, they had families.” 

“Well they should’ve thought about their families before getting in this business. You know what your dad always said, it’s kill or be killed.” 

“And exactly how did that work out for him?” You ask making Jimin fall quiet. It’s no secret that you and your father had a rocky relationship to say the least. He was the whole reason you were in this business anyways, as his only chid you were expected to take over his thrown. And it was no surprise that he died young, what with his life motto now being lived by Jimin. Sure killing others does save you at that moment, but it comes with an ever-growing list of enemies and a target on your back. So instead of getting a high school diploma at eighteen you got a gang. 

“Anyways…what do you want to do?” Jimin asks. 

“We’ll carry on business as usual. They’re planning something if all they did was jump two guys in retaliation to the death of their allies. So we’ll tighten our borders and distribute the new ammunition out to the different districts. Wire ten percent of the money we took to the corrupt officers to monitor MKJ territory for any activity. I want Taehyung monitoring their current known safe houses and we’ll have some of the upper ranks tap any cars in the area belonging to them. We’ll force them to show their hand.” 

“Don’t you think you’re being a little too casual about this? The last time we had a gang war was when your dad…” 

“Died? Yes Jungkook I do remember that.” You huff, rolling your eyes in irritation. 

“I just think we should be more cautious because we lost the last one. We’ve been rebuilding ever since.” Jungkook says. 

“Why do you think you have a say in this Jungkook? You had barely even been initiated at that point. I was the one who dealt with all this shit, I was the one who pulled us out of it.” 

“You didn’t make me second in command for no reason. I get a say in what happens as much as you do!” Jungkook yells and you laugh. 

“You really think you can tell me how to run my gang?” You say incredulously. “All you are is a pretty face Jeon.” You don’t mean it, you regret the words the moment they leave your mouth. But you’ve always been good at self-destruction. 

“That’s all you think I am?” His words are loud but his demeanor is quiet, made little by your low blow. By your invalidation of all his hard work, of his sacrifice. 

“I’m leaving. I can’t deal with this shit right now.” You say, walking away because it’s easier. It pains you to look at Jungkook right now. The hallway is silent as you walk towards the car and you pray to hear Jungkook’s hurried footsteps behind you. You pause for a moment by the door and wait for Jungkook to catch up, to not let you leave alone and yet he doesn’t come. With a sigh you grab the keys off the hook and drive to the only other safe place you have. 

When you were younger you weren’t allowed to leave the house alone, either your mother or one of your father’s men had to come with you. It’s understandable given that you were your father’s weakness, well supposed weakness anyways. Anyone close to your family however would’ve told them to not waste their energy taking you. The only time you ever saw your father was when he was telling you how much of a disappointment you were. And when it got too much, when you couldn’t shake the dark thoughts from your mind, you would sneak off to a small park a half-mile from your house and climb to the top of an old tree where you could pretend you were touching the clouds. 

The tree is not as nice as you remember, but childlike innocence does make the world around you seem prettier than it is. Pulling yourself up you sit in the crook of the lowest branch and the trunk, afraid of any of the higher branches not being sturdy enough. Taking a deep breath you shiver at the slight chill to the air but your limbs relax anyways. You keep replaying your conversation with Jungkook in your head. You’re a horrible person, hurting the person you love. You don’t deserve him, all you do is hurt people. All you bring is pain. 

“You stalking me?” A voice says from below you and you jump, having to grab onto the tree to prevent yourself from falling backwards. Hastily you blink away the tears in your eyes and laugh down at Yoongi. 

“Ah yeah of course. I just can’t get enough of your tsundere vibes.” 

Yoongi gives you a gummy smile before fake gagging, folding over in half while retching. “Ugh I can’t believe I’m friends with a weeb.” 

“Alright prima donna, how did you know what it was if you aren’t one?” His silence makes you giggle and you find yourself forgetting about your argument with Jungkook. Being with Yoongi is nice, it’s easy. It feels normal, something that you’ve wanted your whole life. Barking sounds from across the field and you and Yoongi both watch as a brown ball of fluff comes charging towards you both. Crouching down, Yoongi opens his arms for the small creature to jump into them, the force enough to send them both into the grass. Yoongi giggles as the little dog squirms in his arms and you feel your heart melt a little at the wholesome scene. 

“I didn’t know you had a dog.” 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. You’ve just never bothered to ask.” 

“What’s its name?” 

“Holly.” Yoongi says with a soft look on his face, standing up with Holly in his arms to bring the animal closer to you. Tentatively you stick your hand out to the small dog, squirming when it begins to avidly lick your hand. “Ahh look at that he likes you.” 

“I mean of course he does. I’m great, how could he not?” 

“Real humble too.” Yoongi remarks, but the sarcasm is foiled by the corner of his lips  curling upwards. His noticeably pink and soft-looking lips. Wait what? Before Yoongi can notice your staring you turn your attention back to the dog. “So what are you doing out here..In a tree?” 

“Just needed some place to think is all.” You shrug. 

“You should think less, it’s way more fun.” 

“If I stop thinking I’ll die.” You say because truly if you take a moment to breathe someone probably will have a knife to your throat. You always need to be one step ahead. 

“That’s a little morbid.” Yoongi says and you laugh it off. 

“Yeah I’m just overdramatic.” 

‘You know, I picked up on that.” 

“Oh really?” You ask.

“Yeah and despite that I still like you.” Yoongi says, setting Holly down to walk closer to you. 

“That so?” You ask coyly, raising a brow. He hums in response, stopping when he’s finally standing between your legs. You should really back away, tell him you’re with Jungkook. Except you’re not, you have no obligation to Jungkook. You’re not his girlfriend and you never will be. And it's with that notion that you lean down and kiss Yoongi. His lips are just as soft as you imagined, tinged with a faint rose flavor which is ironic given his profession. 

Ever since you and Yoongi kissed you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Despite his callous persona he’s actually quite sweet, texting you multiple times a day to see how you’re going and how your day is. The only problem is that you can’t exactly tell Yoongi what you do and how your actual day is because really who would want to date someone who killed someone when they were just eight years old. Granted it was only because your father forced your hand: either you killed the mysterious man or he killed your mother. But regardless, if given the choice you wouldn’t even want to be you so why would anyone want to date you? So instead you told him that you’re the CEO of a small business which is true. Your business is just illegal and you have a different title although you’re still the head.

“He texts you all the fucking time. Does he not have a job?” Jungkook huffs as your phone chimes with yet another text from Yoongi. You never told Jungkook about that day at the park with Yoongi given your already rocky relationship, but it felt too dishonest to pretend Yoongi is someone else. Jungkook is still less than happy with Yoongi texting you despite your insistence that you’re just friends. Though, can friends really kiss and still be just friends? The thought of kissing him makes your stomach erupt in butterflies and you can’t stop yourself from grinning. 

“He does have a job. He was just checking in.” 

“He’s always just checking in.” Jungkook says before rolling his eyes and moving to grab his stuff from your room. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I don’t want to be here while you text him with that big ass smile on your face.” 

“I don’t see why you’re so upset. Can I not have a friend Jungkook?” 

“Yeah, you’re friends.” Jungkook scoffs and you furrow your brows. 

“What are you saying Jungkook?” 

“Don’t you think he texts you a little too often to just be friendly. He’s clearly just trying to get in your pants.” 

“Jungkook there’s no need to be jealous.” You huff growing frustrated. 

“I think you should find a new florist.” 

“Jungkook you can’t control me. Yoongi is my friend and as your-“ you pause, the word girlfriend sitting on your tongue before you stop yourself. “You don’t get to decide who I get to hang out with.” You huff and Jungkook pokes his tongue into his cheek, fingers gripping your bedroom door handle tightly. He clenches his hands a few times and you huff. Since when did things with Jungkook get so hard?

“So you’re just going to hang out with him despite knowing he just wants to fuck you?” Jungkook spits out, teeth clenched tightly together. 

“I don’t know anything Jungkook. Is it really so hard to believe someone could just like me enough to want to be my friend?” Your voice falls off at the end and Jungkook turns to you, sharp eyes rounding a little when he notices how small you’ve become. 

“I-I just think he wants more.” He says softly, reaching over carefully to take your hand in his own like he’s scared you’ll pull away. As if for extra measure he places your conjoined hands in his lap and soothingly rubs his thumb across the back of your hand. You suppose this is his way of saying he’s sorry. 

“I just want a friend.” You murmur, looking out of the window to avoid him. 

“You have me.” The both of you fall into a heavy silence, ‘am I not enough’ hangs limply between you. 

Hours later you finally make it out of your room and head downstairs to find Taehyung. Unsurprisingly he’s got a whole spread next to him, any snack you could think of within arms reach. Grabbing the bowl of fruit you begin munching on them while Taehyung prepares his update for you. “Just because you’re a criminal does not mean you have to be a thief.” He scolds, taking the bowl away from you and cradling it to his chest. 

“Why do none of you remember that I’m your boss?” You whine and Taehyung only smiles. 

“Because we get to see the actual Y/n who’s really a sweetheart despite her situation. Don’t get me wrong though, I definitely am still afraid of you because I know you could kill me at a moment’s notice. Anyways, before we get into business how has my little ninja been?” 

“Taehyung I use knives not throwing stars.” 

“Same thing.” He shrugs. 

“And fine I guess. Things with Jungkook have been rough but when haven’t they?” You say with a pathetic chuckle. 

“He’ll come around. You know how he’s been struggling with his brother.” 

“He’s been struggling ever since he first came here! That was three years ago Taehyung, how much longer should I have to wait?” 

“It’s not just that. He had me search for his brother last week to send him a birthday card and there’s no record of him for the past six months.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know, it’s like the guy just vanished.” 

“So he’s either dead or doesn’t want to be found.” You say. 

“Someone really knew what they were doing when they cleared him too, I can’t even find a trace.” 

“Isn’t Jungkook’s scar from him and his brother fighting over the computer?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. 

“Yeah but I don’t really see the relevance.” 

“I mean that they’re both computer nerds. So his brother could’ve done that himself and the question is if he did, why? And why didn’t he tell Jungkook?” 

With the news of Jungkook’s brother’s suspicious disappearance you’re more on edge than normal. You have a feeling Jungkook’s brother is not as innocent as Jungkook chooses to see him. After all, the whole reason Jungkook is in your gang is because he took on his brother’s debt and joined in his place. Taehyung also said that the safe houses are oddly quiet and so is the server that Taehyung managed to hack into. No one is talking. Which can only mean that they know someone is listening. Therefore, all your high ranking members are on house arrest much to their dismay. “I can’t believe you’re making me stay home for the next week.” Jimin whines, sprawled across the kitchen island as if it’s a sofa. They do say hoes like high places. 

“Think of it like a staycation. It’s a much needed break.” 

“We’re sitting ducks at this point. MKJ might as well ambush us now and get it over with.” Jungkook says and you slap his bicep in protest. 

“I’d like to keep the morale high you guys.” 

“I don’t know why you two are complaining. Being home is nice.” Taehyung says and you send him a finger heart in appreciation. 

“That’s because you haven’t left the house in five years.” Jimin teases and you can’t help but laugh. Taehyung truly is always home. 

“I have everything I could possibly need and want here. Plus I’m the only one who has clean hands if we get arrested.” 

“Technically you’re an accomplice.” You say and Taehyung rolls his eyes. 

“Technically I can just erase all data of me in the system, replace it with Jimin’s information and if they find my fingerprints say that I was kidnapped and held in the computer room.” 

“Wait why do I get to take the fall for you?” 

“We all know you’d charm your way out of jail. Kook and Y/n not so much.” 

“Hey I can be charming!” You say and all the boys just laugh in response. 

“No one in the city would ever go for you given that you’re blossom.” Jimin says and you only scowl. Is it really so hard to believe?

“Yoongi would.” You say and your eyes widen when you realize your mistake. Jungkook just rolls his eyes in irritation. 

“Yoongi would hit it and quit it.” Jungkook says callously and you can feel your anger spark. Why is Jungkook acting like a dick all of a sudden? 

“Yeah because friends with benefits is so much better.” You scoff and Jungkook just scowls. 

“At least I’m willing to come back.” 

“Oh you’re willing? Wow I’m honored. Thank you for finding it in you to be so charitable.” 

“Y/n I didn’t mean it like that.” He starts and you just roll your eyes. 

“Save it Jeon, I don’t feel like hearing your bullshit any longer.” Angrily you stomp over to the garage, Jungkook hot on your heels. 

“Where are you going?” 

“It’s none of your concern Jungkook. You can stop fake caring now and go call Jennie for a quick fuck.” 

“That was one time! I told you it was a mistake and we weren’t even dating!” Jungkook yells before skidding to a stop as you whip around to face him, your noses almost touching. 

“You’re right Jungkook, we’re not dating. So you can sleep with whoever you want and I’ll do the same.” You’re half turned and ready to head out when Jungkook pulls you back, pulling you flush into him. 

“I don’t want to do that though.” He whispers like he can no longer find his voice. 

“Then what do you want Kook? Because I can’t keep sitting around and waiting for you to love me. I’m tired of hiding, I’m tired of wishing I was someone else so you could proudly say you love me. I don’t know what you want me to do because as much as you hate who I am I hate myself too. So what do you want me to do Kook because as much as I wish I was someone else I can’t change who I am.” 

“I-I” Jungkook starts but his face keeps twisting as he struggles to find his words. In his struggle you find the answer. 

When you get to Yoongi’s flower shop you’re still upset over Jungkook, so much so that not even the sweet aroma of the roses by the door can make the corner of your lips twitch upwards. You’re not quite sure why you actually came here but when you see Yoongi round the corner looking a little disgruntled about a customer at eight in the morning you can’t help but feel a little weight fall off your shoulder. Something about him just makes you relax, like he understands. He just has a comforting aura that you find yourself drawn to. When he looks up and spots you his mouth quirks upwards for a moment before it draws back down into an indifferent expression. “You haven’t stopped by in a while.” He says gruffly, more of a statement than a question. You frown and take a few steps forward, fingers tracing lily petals softly. 

“I’ve just been really busy.” You weakly smile. 

“Are you okay?” You turn your head quickly to find Yoongi standing directly in front of you, a look of worry on his face. When you close your eyes to blink you can see the same expression etched onto Jungkook’s face from last night. You’re such a burden, already weighing down on the mind of a practical stranger. 

“I’m fine.” You say, once more steeling yourself. You’re strong, you don’t need someone to take care of you. 

“You’re pretty easy to read you know? You weren’t even facing me directly and I could tell you were upset. Your eyebrows are so close together you basically have a monobrow.” He quips, indenting the space between your brows with the tip of his finger. You let out a small chirp and slap his finger away. 

“I was just thinking.” You mumble and Yoongi smirks. 

“Shocking, didn’t know you had a brain in there.” When you glare at him unamused it’s his turn to laugh, his lips curling upwards to reveal a gummy smile. 

“But yeah, no need to worry about me.” You shrug and Yoongi smiles so wide his bottom teeth peek out. His eyes have a mischievous glint in them and you’re sure you’re gonna hate what is about to come out of his mouth. 

“Oh I wasn’t. Your mood is just so sour it’s causing my flowers to wilt. You’re supposed to give them ten nice words a day you know.” He teases, already turning around to run behind the safety of the counter before you can smack his arm. 

“Yoongi! How dare you!” You scold but your laughter slips through, causing your voice to go up an octave. “You suck.” You pout, following him to the counter and hopping up to sit down on it. 

“Sure, make yourself comfortable.” 

“I will.” You smile to which he only rolls his eyes. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you and you can’t recall the last time you just sat in a happy silence. Where it wasn’t weighed down by unspoken words or fear of what’s to come. When you could simply just be. It feels nice. Being with Yoongi feels nice. “I like hanging out with you.” You say suddenly and Yoongi jumps at the sound of your voice. 

“Mmm I guess you’re tolerable.” He hums and you sigh. 

“Would it kill you to be nice to me for one second?” You whine and you swear Yoongi snickers like the sound of you whining gives him immense joy. 

“Fine. I too enjoy you loitering in my shop and not buying anything despite this being a place of business.” 

“Why do I even bother?” You groan to yourself, ignoring the sound of Yoongi’s approaching footsteps. Instead you focus on the swing of your legs, reminding you of when you were younger and used to sit on the kitchen counter when your mother cooked. What a long time ago that was. Like he can tell you’re getting lost in your thoughts Yoongi clears his throat and you look up to see his nose scrunched in distaste while his arms are outstretched. You stare at him questioningly, eyes trailing down his figure and arms. You notice a faint tattoo peeking out from below his watch and your eyes fixate on it. The watch is almost the exact width of the tattoo like he’s trying to hide it. What just is he trying to hide? 

“Okay weirdo, hug me now before the offer is off the table. You’ve been giving me ‘please hug me’ vibes ever since you walked in.” 

“You can just admit you wanted a hug you know?” You tease, hopping off the counter to wrap your arms around his middle. His body is slim and you can easily wrap both arms around him but surprisingly it’s firm against your own, contrasting the soft plushness of his sweater. He smells like a meadow from working with all the flowers but the smell of something warm like whiskey or bourbon lingers as your head is tucked into his chest.

Perhaps you should think more things through. Perhaps you should pay more attention to the world around you since you’re at the top of plenty of hitlists. Perhaps you should stop being so reliant on Jungkook as you are now being chased through the city by who you only assume are some low level members of MKJ. The tires screech as you round a sharp corner and the car drifts into the opposing lane and you close your eyes tightly waiting for the inevitable crash yet somehow you are miraculously spared. Taking a deep breath you watch the car from the side view mirror behind you, trying to formulate a plan.You’re driving too fast  to jump out safely and the drivers are clearly too experienced for you to shake them off in this dangerous game of mario kart. Unbuckling yourself you pull the knives from the waistband of your mini skirt and roll down the window.

Grabbing onto the handle above the window you glance out the windshield and calculate how many seconds you have to pop out the window and aim for the tires of the vehicle before you get your head blown off as you round the car to the left. The tires screech and the sound pierces your ears but your focus can’t be shaken as you aim for the two left side tires that come into view before ducking inside the body of the car as gun shots bounce off the vehicle. Hastily you scramble back inside and roll up the window, glancing behind the car to find one of your knives dug into the front tire. It pushes farther in as the tire continues to roll but you sigh in relief as the vehicle begins to slow down. That is until one of your own tires gets shot and the car starts bouncing as it rides the rim. “Shit!” You scream, the car already beginning to teeter to the side and you slam into your door, letting out a groan. 

Today is really the day. Glancing out the window you can see the sidewalk clearly as the car begins its descent, the only thing you can hear over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears is the haunting dial tone of your phone. In your panic you just wanted to tell him one last time despite the argument that just occurred. The car finally slams against the pavement and begins to roll. Instinctively your body tenses, hand clutching the phone like it’s a lifeline. You hit your head against the broken windshield making your head throb. You can feel yourself beginning to slip out of consciousness and as your eyes begin to flutter, your eyes rolling back as you lose awareness, you can hear the faint sound of the dial tone. Jungkook never picks up. 

When you wake up your hands are tied behind your back and you sigh, though it fails to escape with the gag placed in your mouth. With a bored expression you look around the room to try and figure out where exactly you are. In your line of business you know plenty of spots where shady shit can go down under the radar. The walls around you are comprised of brick, pieces of it falling as the building is beginning to crumble. The ceiling is stained various colors, likely from water damage and miscellaneous fluids. If you stare hard enough you’re pretty sure you can make out speckles of blood. Large poles are staggered around the room and you realize then that you’re in an abandoned fire house. You haven’t heard of any abandoned fire stations in the area so they must’ve taken you far out of the city. You should expect as much, it buys them more time as Jungkook and the others have to search longer to find you.

Frustrated you throw your head back in anguish and wince when your head smacks into the pole you’re tied to. Turning your wrists outwards, you free up your fingers and try tugging at the ends of the rope binding your hands together. Tugging a few times the rope refuses to give and you huff, sucking the inside of your cheek as you think of your next plan. Pulling your legs to your chest you wait in anticipation to feel the dig of the point of the knife tucked into your waist band into your thigh but the prick never comes. Damn, they took your knives too. You’ll have to commend them for being smart: checking for weapons. They’re a little less smart for not binding your legs and by giving you the ability to stand also giving you the ability to fight. Sometimes being a woman and constantly underestimated has its perks. 

Boisterous laughter sounds from above you and suddenly two figures descend from above via the poles. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” The man laughs and you roll your eyes. Amateurs. You retract your previous statement of them being intelligent. 

“You’re stupid.” The second man says and you nod in agreement. He spins on his heel to face you and smiles crookedly at you. His eyes gleam sickeningly and ruin his handsome face, the heart shaped smile now sinister and ironic. It’s clear no compassion is left in this man. “Oh Blossom, how I’ve longed to see you in person.” Walking forward his steps make no noise, his movements graceful like a dancer but as deadly as the twelve gauge he spins lazily between his fingers. For a fleeting moment you wonder if this is how your victims felt before they died, if this is how you looked to them. The thought makes you sick. You truly are a monster. “I even came in person to see you, sweetheart. You’re quite a hard woman to find you know. Such a shame you rarely leave home.” He stops in front of you to caress the side of your face and you retract your leg to kick him in the knee only to widen your eyes in surprise when he catches your ankle before you can even graze him. 

“You don’t think I got to be head of operations just because of my handsome face right sweetheart? No baby, I got it through killing anyone that came in my way. Ruthlessly, viciously, tortuously. And it really would make my day to see you beg.” With a hand on your shoulder he roughly pushes you down so you fall on your knees, once again taking to caressing your cheek. “Now beg.” He growls, ripping the gag down your chin and pressing the barrel to the center of your forehead. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Ahh I know sweetheart, everyone wants to. A shame you have to be my enemy though, we’d have a good time together.” 

“You’re disgusting.” You snarl and turn your head away from him. The hand on your cheek moves to grip your chin so roughly you’re sure a bruise is going to form. 

“You’re really going to give me such disrespect when your life is on the line? You’re already on your knees so be a good girl like the little bitch you are.” His eyes burn with fury, the rage taking over his whole body as his brown eyes take on a more red hue in the streak of light coming from a hole in the wall. When you stare blankly at him he reaches his arm back and smacks the heel of the gun into the side of your cheek. You can feel the blood forming inside your mouth and you spit it onto his shoes making him scream in frustration. You fix him with your own crooked grin, fully letting your Blossom persona take form. 

“You really think this is scaring me? I’ve been kidnapped before sweetheart. This isn’t anything special.” You look him dead in the eyes and raise your eyebrows in challenge. He clicks off the safety and you give a bored sigh, hiding the racing of your heart.

“Hoseok you can’t kill her. We can’t exploit her gang if she’s dead.” 

“You’re right.” Hoseok sighs sadly and you give him a sarcastic smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t torture her though.” Before you can think he shoots you in the thigh, causing you to cry out in pain and drop to the floor, tears welling in your eyes from the pain. 

“Look at you, tied up and weak. You’re pathetic. You’re nothing without Jungkook by your side. You know that right? You can’t even-” Hoseok says laughing mercilessly.

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.” Jungkook’s voice rings through the empty warehouse and your blood goes cold. It’s so low, practically a growl.

“Ahh I see your bodyguard has joined the party.” Hoseok claps excitedly, turning around only to be shot in the chest. He drops down in front of you and gives you a deranged smile. “I live for this shit.” His colleague falls as Jungkook shoots him as well but Hoseok pays him no mind. Instead, he smiles brightly at you as you look down at him, pressing a hand to his chest before placing it on your shirt, leaving a bloody hand print. “You’re next. See you in hell.” He giggles before his breath starts to weaken and his eyes lose their light. Jungkook is before you in an instant, hands coming to either side of your face to get you to look at him. Your eyes are still glassy making him blurry but he’s still so warm. And you let yourself bask in his warmth, pushing your head into his chest to sob as the memories come back to you. 

On your seventh birthday you were abducted by two strange men. They lured you away from your mother, seeking aid to help another child in pain. Like the naive girl you were you were eager to help, following them to the other end of the park where you were stuffed into the trunk of a car. Your screams for your mother to save you had gone unheard and you wound up tied to a plastic chair and abandoned in the middle of an old warehouse. There you stayed for two days, praying for your parents to come rescue you except they never arrived. Instead two teenagers found you slumped into the chair, severely dehydrated and hungry, carrying you to the nearest hospital where you were finally reunited with your parents. You thought they’d be happy to see you, that their eyes would too be filled with tears of relief from being reunited. How foolish of you to think that your parents would care. Instead, as soon as you were discharged you were scolded, called numerous names synonymous with useless by your father. You were a failure, accepting help and not getting yourself out of there. You should know by now that no one will offer you help. 

Two years later and you find yourself once again bound, your wrists raw and bloody from trying to get out of the harsh ties. The men only laugh sardonically as they carve into your arms and back, amused by your cries. They tortured you until you were half-conscious, finally succeeding in getting you to give information about your father. There you were once again left and using the bloodied knife they left behind you untied yourself and found your way home. You thought you’d make him proud; after all, you had done it without help. You saved yourself. Yet it didn’t matter because in saving yourself you sacrificed your father. Again you were reminded of what a failure you were, how he wished you’d have never been born. You were unlovable at best. 

At thirteen you were taken at least three towns over, dropped off in the middle of the woods with your hands bound and your eyes covered by a blindfold. You spent the whole day just trying to get the stupid blindfold off so you could see what was around you before you got attacked by whatever was lurking in the forest. After nearly slicing yourself with a sharp rock you managed to cut the rope around your hands and spent the next week foraging in the woods and trying to find some sort of civilization to get your bearings. It took you two weeks to get home by foot, unaccepting of the pitied handouts and offerings to pay for you a bus ticket as you walked the whole way. Surely this time your father would be proud even if the kidnappers did nothing other than blindfold and bind you. It was an odd practice but you didn’t want to spare it a second thought, rubbing your arms as you recalled your worst kidnapping experience. Except as you rounded the corner to your father’s office you saw the two men who had taken you in the first place. Frozen in fear you could only stare as they stood before your father as he sat in his chair. Patiently you waited for him to punish them for taking you except much to your confusion he only smiled and paid them money. It’s like he’s rewarding them for taking you, for putting you through hell for the last two weeks. Unable to stop yourself you barged inside, wanting answers to your questions. 

“Did you hire them to kidnap me?” You scream, overtaken by anger. 

“Of course not my dear, I was paying them to bring you back however it seems you managed just fine on your own. I’m proud of you.” He smiles. Placated by finally earning your father’s love you only hugged him before walking off, making sure to fix the two kidnappers with your worst stare. It was only later at the “office” party did you discover your initial theory was correct as they were promoted to a higher ranking. Your hands trembled and eyes began to water as you realized that the one man who you’re supposed to trust lied directly to your face. Maybe he even hired the other people to kidnap you too. Now you’re questioning everything he’s ever told you, more than terrified of the man you’re supposed to call your father. God, you hate liars. 

Jungkook calling your name breaks you out of your reverie and you sniffle, unaware that you had begun to shake. Jungkook pulls you farther into him, the seatbelt straining as you push against it. “It’s okay baby, I’ve got you. No one will hurt you when I’m here, I promise.” Despite the harsh words you said to him, he still forgave you and is taking care of you. You don’t deserve him. 

“Are you okay?” You hold him by each bicep to ensure he can’t move as you assess his form looking for any sign of injury.

“You were just bound, shot, and kidnapped but you’re worried about me?” Jungkook laughs and you roll your eyes. 

“This happens to me all the time remember?” 

“Are you okay though? You just started shaking out of nowhere. Were you reliving your nightmares again?” Jungkook whispers into your ear, so low that you can barely make it out even though he’s right next to you. 

Nodding, tears prickle at your eyes again and Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your head before stroking your hair, understanding that silent comfort is what you need at the moment. 

It is safe to say that you have not left the house since you were kidnapped. Not only have you been coping with the trauma from your childhood but you’ve been struggling with recovering from a car accident and being shot. But most of all you’re lonely. Jungkook has barely been home, he’s set on revenge, determined to kill all of MKJ for what they did. In a way it’s heartwarming but you know that with each person he kills he dies a little inside. Your stomach churns with guilt and you decide that you need a distraction. Despite your promise to Jungkook to stay home where you’re safe- well as safe as you can get with a target always on your head-  you grab the car keys and make your way to the flower shop. 

When you pull into a spot your hands shake a little as your anxiety heightens and you nervously fiddle with the necklace Jungkook gave you for your birthday last year. Checking the street several times before you exit the car, you basically sprint- more like quickly hobble as your thigh still burns from being used- into the shop, wanting to be visible on the street for as little time as possible. You run into an unsuspecting Yoongi, not anticipating he’d be anywhere near the entry. He groans underneath you, the both of you sprawled across the floor. “Sorry!” You squeak and scramble off of him, while he mock glares at you and holds onto his lower back. 

“Give me a warning next time will you? You’re heavy.” 

“Thanks.” You deadpan, wholly unimpressed. 

“Anytime.” He winks and you roll your eyes. “Hey you’ve been gone for a while. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” You tug again at the necklace and Yoongi’s eyes dart to the action. Cocking his head, he opens his mouth like he’s going to question you further but refrains. 

“Well it’s good to see you anyways. If you need to talk about anything I’m here for you.” He places his hand on your elbow, tilting his head to look you in the eyes. 

“Thank you Yoongi, I appreciate it.” The air between the two of you stills and you can’t find it in yourself to break the eye contact. It’s so comforting and safe, something you’ve been needing the past couple of weeks. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the way you’ve closed the gap between you until you can feel the soft puffs of his breath against your face. Yet despite the danger signs flashing through your head you can only flutter your eyes shut when Yoongi presses his lips to your own. 

His lips are softer than you’re accustomed to, used to Jungkook’s slightly chapped ones- he constantly licks his lips as a nervous tick- and you can’t help but lean into Yoongi. Everything about him is just warm and soft: from his quiet, caring demeanor to his sweaters to his blonde hair that’s now laced between your fingers. Speaking of which, you give the strands a slight tug and he groans into your mouth, squeezing your hips in warning. You don’t take heed of it though and swipe your tongue across the seam of his lips. He immediately allows you entry and you only have control for a few seconds before he takes the lead, walking you backwards until your back hits the counter. You release his hair to move your fingers across his broad shoulders and down his slim waist, pulling him harder against you until the counter is digging uncomfortably in your back. He groans again when you roll your hips against his own before pulling away, hands on your hips to keep you in place as he separates. “I-I think we should take this slow.” He pants and you furrow your brows in confusion. 

“What?” 

“I- I really like you and I want to do this the right way. I want to at least take you on a date first.” His cheeks redden and you giggle at his sudden shyness. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“You ask me on a date and then are surprised I say yes?” You tease and Yoongi just rolls his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Shut up. Anyways, how about I close the shop up early and we go somewhere?” 

“Sounds good.” You nod in affirmation. 

When you get home hours later after a few more intense make out sessions with Yoongi, you don’t expect the way Jungkook is angrily seated on the edge of your bed, his arms crossed against his chest making his biceps swell. You’d laugh from the way he’s sitting, the perfect image of a parent catching their child after sneaking past curfew, if not for the way his eyes are looking at you. They’re icy, enough so that you visibly shiver unused to this look from him. Normally he gazes at you warmly and you’re not quite sure how to take this. 

“You left.” He says monotonously, his voice edged with annoyance. 

“I did. The wound has nearly healed over and I didn’t put a lot of strain on it. I’m a grown woman Jungkook, I don’t need to be under house arrest.” 

“You were shot!” He yells, standing up and pulling on the strands of his hair. The frustration pours over, taking over his whole body as he begins pacing in front of you. 

“I’ve been shot before.” You shrug which only pisses him off even more. 

“That doesn’t matter. Hoseok was going to kill you and you’re acting like it was nothing. I almost watched you die! Don’t you understand?” He screams, chest beginning to heave as he stares at you with watery eyes. 

“But I’m alive. Jungkook I’m okay.” You try and console, slowly moving towards him as if he’s a wounded animal. In a way he is. 

“But I’m not!” You fall silent, hands falling to your sides as he begins to cry. You don’t know what to do, the only thing you can do is watch as he breaks down before you. Despite your previous situations, Jungkook has never let you see him break down, usually hiding it through sex or crying in the crook of your neck. This is uncharted territory and you don’t know how to navigate this situation. All you can think about is that you’re selfish. That you brought him this pain. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter. “This is all my fault.” 

“You’re so selfish! Did you even think about me before you left?” He says and you only shake your head, eyes tearing up. 

“I just wanted someone to talk to.” You murmur and Jungkook only stills, turning on his heel to face you. 

“You went to see him didn’t you?” He says quietly, like if he says it any louder it’ll hurt. You can only nod. 

“So while I’m on the streets fighting for you, almost dying just to protect your ass, you’re out with another guy.” He takes a few steps closer, inching you against the wall to take your chin between his fingers and maneuver your face around. “You even smell like his cologne.” He laughs dryly, placing a thumb on your bottom lip to pull it slightly. “And your lips are swollen. But just friends right?” He laughs again, unable to stop a tear from slipping down his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry.” Your heart is breaking, you can feel it chipping piece by piece as more tears run down his face. You wish you could wipe them away but you’re frozen in place. 

“Do you not love me anymore?” He whispers and just the thought makes your own tears spill over. You love Jungkook more than life. If it was between you and him, you would take the bullet for him in a second. Jungkook deserves a better life, one far away from you. Thankfully you’ve always been good at self destruction. 

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, overcome by the emotions flowing through you. You’re doing this for his own good, you’re doing this for his own good. It takes everything in you not to take it back when you can see his heart drop, when you can hear the shaky breath he inhales. You feel like you can’t breathe when he takes a step back, his eyes hardening the longer he stares until they’re filled with anger and hatred. You’re doing this for his own good. Only when the door slams shut and you’re left alone in your room do you collapse to the ground, shaking as you sob violently, biting down on your hand to quiet them. 

Eventually the pain grows too much and like the coward you are you can’t face it alone. Unable to go to Jungkook for help you go to the only other person you can think of that offers you comfort and safety. When you get to Yoongi’s shop, only the light in the back is still on and you pray that Yoongi is here rather than that he forgot to turn off the light. Knocking almost frantically on the door you hope Yoongi will come and give you a piece of salvation, a moment to forget that you just broke the love of your life’s heart. It appears that pity is on your side as you see Yoongi round the corner from the back office begrudgingly and you can’t help your eyes from tearing up. When Yoongi notices you his eyes widen greatly as he takes in your tear-stained face, jogging towards the door and fumbling with the lock. When the door finally opens you push into his arms, thankfully he’s prepared for you this time, and bury your face in his neck. You sob harder as you remember Jungkook used to do this to you when he was upset, the memory of his broken face resurfacing. 

“I got you.” Yoongi shushes you quietly, rubbing one hand up and down your back while the other clutches the back of your head. Your body shakes as you continue to punish yourself, replaying your last moments with Jungkook. You feel even worse running back to Yoongi afterwards, the person who made Jungkook question your love for him. Yet here you are wrapped in his arms, being comforted by him because you can no longer have Jungkook. “What happened?” Yoongi asks when you finally quiet down, pulling away enough to look you in the eyes while stroking your cheekbones. 

“I just broke my best friend’s heart.” You say brokenly, a sob threatening to resurface as your lip begins to quiver again. 

“Yeah unrequited love is a bitch, but you can’t help the way you feel. If you don’t love them back you can’t feel bad about it and it’s unfair to both of you to try and force yourself to love them.” Yoongi says softly, still stroking your cheeks. Little did he know that you broke Jungkook’s heart out of love. 

“Yeah. I just don’t want to go home right now.” 

“You can stay with me for a few days if you want? I have a spare toothbrush and some clothes that should fit you. Only if you want to of course.” His ears tint pink as he rubs the back of his neck nervously, his sleeve pulling up to reveal his tattoo. Interlude. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” It’s your turn to be awkward as you fiddle again with the necklace Jungkook gave you wrapped around your neck. You should probably take it off but it’s the only piece of him you have left right now. Yoongi leads you upstairs with a smile and you can’t help your wondering eyes as you take in the hidden loft upstairs. The scent of flowers wafts up from the shop below and you can’t help the corner of your mouth from quirking up. 

The furniture is a muted brown and when paired with the sweet aroma of budding flowers you can’t help but feel calm. Yoongi fumbles with his things, frantically picking up clothes strewn across the floor and murmuring apologies about the mess but you pay him no mind as you continue to look around. It seems that Yoongi only has the bare necessities in his apartment: a bed, a night stand, and a small dining table with two chairs. Your eyes linger on the walls for any decorations and yet there’s none. Glancing at his nightstand table you see a small polaroid tucked into a frame but before you can walk any closer Yoongi hurries you into the small kitchen. 

“Are you hungry? I can cook you something.” He offers and you nod. Despite your lack of appetite you know you should eat. Rifling through his cupboards he only finds two packs of instant ramen and gives a small chuckle. “Not exactly the first meal I thought I’d make you but this will have to do.” He mumbles to himself and you can’t help the small smile on your face. How sweet. 

“You’ve thought about cooking food for me?” You tease and his ears tint pink again as he rubs against the back of his neck. 

“Maybe. I’ve thought about a lot of things with you.” It’s your turn to get shy by his sudden boldness and you only laugh. 

“That so?” You ask as he pours water in the cups from the kettle and lets them sit as he moves to corner you against the corner. He hums in response, moving to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Like what?” You press. 

“Like what waking up next to you would be like or holding your hand.” One of his hands drops to intertwine with your own and you can only grin. Things with Yoongi are so easy, it’s the type of relationship you’ve always dreamed of. Perhaps that’s why you relish his words and urge him to continue, the ache caused by Jungkook dulled. “I wonder if you’d like my favorite places too. I wonder about starting a new life with you.” 

“You sure about that?” You tease, unsure about how to react to his sentiments. It’s everything you’ve wanted to hear and you’re swooning from that but something still feels missing, incomplete. 

“Been sure about it since the moment I met you. What you’ve gone through, who you are despite your circumstances is inspiring. When I look at you I want to be better.” You pause for a minute confused but don’t have much time to consider his words before Yoongi presses his lips onto yours, the hand on your cheek moving to entangle itself in your hair. He forces your mouth open with a small tug to your hair, his tongue slipping to brush your own as you part your lips to gasp. He wastes no time in claiming dominance, the hand not in your hair reaching behind you to grab your ass. You jump at the sudden squeeze and Yoongi smirks against your mouth, a hand coming down to grab your other thigh and urge you to jump. With your legs now encircling his waist Yoongi carries you to the bed with a surprising ease and you welcome the new distraction. 

You awake to the smell of bacon and coffee, rousing from your deep slumber to come face to face with Yoongi. He smiles shyly at you as he sets the coffee and plate of breakfast down next to you on the bed, blushing a little as the covers slip down and reveal your nude torso. Quietly he hands you his shirt that was thrown on the ground in your haste last night and you slip it on before taking a sip of coffee. “Breakfast in bed after our first time together? You’re really setting the bar high Yoongi.” You tease but are appreciative all the same. 

“Good. You deserve to be spoiled. You can think of this as a makeshift first date since I broke my promise.” 

“You’re too sweet to me. I don’t deserve it.” Like he can sense your self-hatred Yoongi comes to crouch in front of you, meeting your downward gaze. Taking both of your hands into his, he smiles softly at you. 

“You’re a good person y/n. You deserve all the love and kindness in the world.” 

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew my past.” 

“Our past does not define us. I’ve done some really shitty things in my past, I’ve hurt many people. But the important thing is that I grew and I’m not the same person anymore. And while you may have also done shitty things in your past, I promise you underneath all of that lies a good person, the person that I see.” Your eyes water and you sniffle, turning away to hide your tears. “Hey, hey it’s okay to cry. Crying does not make you weak.” Yoongi coos, gently placing his fingers around your chin to turn you back to face him. Somehow he knows all the words you need to hear. It’s almost like he already knows everything about you. 

You can only smile weakly at him, despite his words you can’t help but feel pathetic. “Now eat up before the food gets cold. Don’t want my money to get put to waste.” You laugh a little and he only grins, stealing a piece of bacon from your plate. 

“Hey!” You call but he doesn’t pay you any mind as he goes to fix his own plate. When Yoongi settles down beside you the both of you fall into a comfortable silence and you chuckle. How domestic, you muse to yourself. 

The day passes quietly as you help Yoongi, your phone untouched all day. It was nice to hang around the shop and tend to the flowers, you felt calmer than you have in a long time. Only a few customers visit the shop and you spend the majority of the time getting to know Yoongi better. Before he became a florist he used to work in computer information systems but wanted to change to a slow paced career. He also is new to the area, having only moved into town six months ago. He had a soft spot for cats and music, hoping one day to be able to have a house with a grand piano. 

“You’re an interesting man Yoongi.” You laugh when he finishes reciting the story about how he once played the recorder with his nose. “Speaking of which you never gave me your last name. What am I supposed to call you when I get mad at you?” You tease, missing the way Yoongi stiffens for a moment. 

“Min. Now do you want to go out to dinner and get something to eat? I think you deserve a real date.” Looking down at your clothes- one of Yoongi’s hoodies and a pair of sweats- you frown. 

“I’m not exactly dressed for a date.” You say gesturing to the sweats. 

“I think you look hot. I was thinking sushi?” 

“I guess.” You say, following him out the door as he locks up shop. Hands intertwined you meander down to a sushi place a few blocks down and out of habit you check behind you to make sure no one is following. You relax when you notice it’s just a random guy in a hoodie and hat, turning your attention back to Yoongi as he rambles about the new order of flowers he’s getting. 

Inside the restaurant isn’t very packed, quite empty for a monday night. You like the fact that less people are there though because it allows you to have an eye on every person in the room, on the off chance that a threat does come in. Surveying the room you notice that the guy with the black jacket and hat has also come in but the hat is a little too low for you to see his face. Odd. You push him to the back of your mind however when Yoongi grabs your hand from across the table and smiles gently at you. When the waiter comes he addresses the two of you as a couple and you can only look away shyly, not really having pictured yourself in a relationship with Yoongi. The thought makes you warm though as you realize every day could be like today. So calm and relaxing, so simple. You breathe a little easier at the thought. 

“I can’t believe you ate 3 rolls on your own.” Yoongi says, mouth wide open as you finish your last bite. What can you say? The sushi was good and you haven’t got to eat out in months as tensions with MKJ have been so thick. You can say you’re enjoying one of the last few peaceful moments you’ll have for a while as you anticipate MKJ’s next move. 

“What can I say? I’m making the best of a free meal.” You giggle which only makes Yoongi roll his eyes. 

“Bold of you to assume I’m going to take the bill based on gender roles.” 

“I mean it’s only fair since you’re the one who suggested this date.” You smile coyly, reaching for the check only for it to be snatched by Yoongi. 

“You got me there blossom.” He smiles and your blood runs cold. Does he know? Yoongi’s eyes also widen and he coughs awkwardly. “Not into pet names? I just thought it was cute since you love flowers so much.” Oh the irony. 

“No no, it’s…fine. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You laugh it off and Yoongi eyes you. 

“If you’re sure.” He says. 

The night is quiet, the only sound coming from Yoongi’s soft breathing beside you as he’s sound asleep with an arm strewn lazily around your waist. You’ve been good on not checking your phone for Jungkook all day but with the moon high above you lose your restraint, unable to sleep unless you know he’s okay. Slipping out of bed you grab your phone and head towards the bathroom, not wanting Yoongi to wake up and see you searching for a message from Jungkook. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as the nerves and fear set in at what could appear on the screen. What if he hasn’t even messaged you? What if he has called you ten times? Do you even want him to contact you? 

Turning on the device you bounce on your feet, leaning onto the counter for support. Nothing. The screen is blank, your messages empty. Except suddenly they start flooding in, your phone buzzing consistently as messages from Jimin and Taehyung flood your phone. Though none are from Jungkook and your heart sinks. He doesn’t want to talk to you. You suppose this is for the best because now he can cut ties with the gang seeing as he doesn’t want you around anymore and paid off the debt long ago. Perhaps the most concerning thing is the last text from Jimin: You lied. Jimin knows, he knows that you lied about no longer loving Jungkook but you can only hope he won’t share this information. Taehyung on the other hand is just disappointed in you for hurting his best friend. 

Tears prickle your eyes but you blink them away because you caused this. As long as you keep telling yourself you’re doing this for him you’ll be okay. With a few more sniffles you head back into the room and set the device face down before crawling back into bed with Yoongi, your heart heavy.

The next day passes slower as you’re unable to get Jungkook out of your mind. You want to make sure he’s okay and that he’s been eating well and yet you’re scared that if you reach out you’ll only make him feel worse. If you contact Jimin he’ll just ask you where you are and tell you to face your problems rather than run from them and Taehyung is probably too upset at you to give you any information on Jungkook’s condition. The only thing you can do is hope that time will heal his heartache and eventually he’ll understand your sacrifice. Yoongi says nothing about your sudden quietness and you’re grateful for that. Instead he gives you silent comfort in the form of soft kisses and hugs.

There’s more customers today than yesterday and you enjoy watching Yoongi as he works, making pretty bouquets upon request and whispering ten nice words to the flowers. You catch him doing them again to a bunch of anemones before handing you one. “For you.” 

“Fading hope?” You ask and he frowns. 

“Anticipation for what’s to come. Think of the positives blossom.” He says, tapping the tip of your nose and causing you to smile. 

“Sorry Mr. Flower Whisperer. I only send flowers for negative occasions.” 

“What a waste of such delicate beauty.” Yoongi tuts and you just roll your eyes. 

“There’s beauty in tragedy you know?” 

“For the amount of flowers you buy, you must be surrounded by tragedy.” He quips and your smile falls. 

“Yeah you could say that.” You mumble and Yoongi frowns. 

“Well at least you have me to teach you about the beautiful things in life.” He finishes the statement by taking your hand in his own and twirling you around just to make you smile. “Your smile being one of them.” He says and you scrunch your nose. 

“Gross, you’re so mushy.” You tease only to have Yoongi tickle your sides in retaliation. 

“Accept my love!” He yells as you squirm to get away from his arms. The sound of your phone ringing makes you both still before you run over and answer without looking at the contact name. 

“Jungkook?” You say almost breathlessly, your heart racing in anticipation as you fail to notice the way Yoongi’s smile drops. 

“No.” Jimin says and you sigh in disappointment. 

“How is he?” You ask and you can practically see Jimin rolling his eyes. 

“Yes I’m doing fine, thank you. Besides why’re you asking me that when he’s with you?” 

“What do you mean? Jungkook isn’t here.” There’s a pause on the line and you grow anxious. “Jimin where is he?” 

“He was on his way to see you and talk things out. He should’ve been there long by now, he left two hours ago.” 

“Tell Taehyung to track his phone and I’ll be at the house as soon as possible.” Scrambling you run upstairs to find your car keys, mind in such a frenzy you don’t even see them on the dining table until Yoongi has them held in front of your face. 

“Looking for these?” He asks and you sigh in relief. 

“Yes thank you, I really need to go. Thank you for letting me stay for the past two nights and I’ll see you around.” 

“Keep your phone on you.” Yoongi says suddenly and you turn with a furrowed brow. “Just so I can call you later and make sure you’re okay.” He says hurriedly and you just nod before running out the door and to your car. 

When you arrive back you immediately head to the training room, grabbing a plethora of knives and even two handguns, already knowing just who you’re dealing with. You’re in the midst of packing away ammunition when your phone rings from an unknown caller. “Hello?” You ask in a bored tone, already knowing who’s on the other line. 

“Well if it isn’t Blossom herself. I’ve got to say it took us a while to find your number in the system, your boy Taehyung there is quite the hacker.” The voice says and you still when you hear Taehyung’s name dropped. 

“Where’s Jungkook?” 

“Ahh so you noticed your little boyfriend is missing. Although is he really your boyfriend after you’ve been out with Min Yoongi?” You’ve been reckless. MKJ has been following you and you’ve been too caught up in your own issues to notice, once again putting those you love at risk. 

“Min Yoongi means nothing to me. He’s just a supplier.” The least you can do is try and spare him when all he’s shown you is kindness. 

“Is that why you went out for sushi with him last night? Perhaps you’re not as skilled as everyone says you are since you were unable to even notice you were being tracked. Disappointing to say the least, I thought I’d have a real fight.” 

“Are you forgetting that we killed Hoseok?” You ask and you know you’ve struck a nerve when the man on the phone sucks in a sharp breath. 

“How could I forget? Did you also forget that our business is an eye for an eye? With that in mind I should just kill your boy right here and you can find his dead body. Would you like that instead?” He says angrily and it takes everything in you to not panic. 

“You would’ve killed him already if you wanted to. So just tell me what you’re looking for.” 

“Well sweetheart since you asked so nicely I’m looking to meet you. I want to watch as the life drains from your eyes the same way you watched my best friend die. And after you die I’ll kill your two little boyfriends and then everyone else in your gang.” You can hear the smile in his voice and your heart begins racing. Is everyone in MKJ insane? 

“Are you gonna send me the address like a good boy or are you gonna make me search for you?” You ask and chuckle at his frustrated groan. 

“I was going to make you work for it but since you’re being a little bitch I’ll send you the address so I can kill you faster. And remember it’s just you and me sweetheart. If I see anyone else on the cameras your boy is dead.” 

“See you then.” You say before hanging up the phone and grabbing a bag to pack more weapons in. You’re preparing for the bloodbath you expect this to be. When you finally are pleased with the amount of weaponry on you, you head towards Taehyung’s monitoring room. “Give me the names of the remaining heads of MKJ.” You say and Taehyung only scoffs. “Taehyung I’m not fucking around right now. Give me the names so I know who I’m dealing with when I go save Jungkook’s ass.” 

Your answer seems to please Taehyung who furiously pounds on his keyboard before a picture of a dimpled man pops up on the screen. “Kim Namjoon, head of accounts and strategy. Founding member and his weapon of choice is a glock. I can’t get a name or picture for their intel department though.” 

“Figured. All men take the easy way out and use a gun, I swear.” You say with a roll of your eyes and Taehyung only smiles at you before taking you into his arms for a tight hug. “Tae!” 

“Thank you. For saving him I mean because we both know you’re gonna beat this Namjoon guy’s ass. Also I know you still love Jungkook because you’re going to save him so I’m sorry for my messages earlier but I’m still mad at you for hurting him. Now go kick some ass and bring the both of you back so I can tell you how much of an idiot you both are.” Taehyung says and you can only squeeze him a little harder. 

“Thanks Tae.” 

Jimin stands at the front door, equipped with his own weapons strapped to his chest like a soldier preparing for war. When he spots you he nods and goes to open the door but you put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “It’s just me Jiminie. He’ll kill Jungkook if he sees any backup but I appreciate you willing to stand by me.” 

“You know he’ll have backup. You’ll be lucky if they don’t shoot on sight.” 

“I know and that’s even more reason for you not to come. The boys need someone to look after them, especially Taehyung.” 

“I can’t let you go alone.” 

“As your boss I’m ordering you to stay and watch the house. Besides have some faith in me Jimin. I’m not just a pretty face you know?” You laugh weakly and Jimin only frowns at you. You both know the chances of you making it out are slim but you’re going to fight like hell to make it out of there. 

“I love you. You’re the best sister I never had.” Jimin says and you pull him in for a tight hug. 

“I love you too. I’m thankful that I’ve had you beside me for my entire life.” It feels morbid to say your goodbyes like you’re about to die but you know you’ll regret it if you don’t. You just hope this goodbye won’t be real. With a final squeeze you release Jimin before walking out the door. 

“Typical.” You scoff as you pull up to an old warehouse. They truly couldn’t have been more unoriginal. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you walk nonchalantly towards the old building, casually looking around while pretending you’re not scoping for any snipers. Surprisingly between the tree-line and along the roof you can’t see the figures of people or the glint of any guns. Perhaps Kim Namjoon really did want to kill you alone. Yet something still feels off, almost like you’re being watched. Turning around you scan the trees again only to find nothing and your body stiffens. Something is wrong, it feels too easy. 

Lo and behold when you turn around a gun is pointed directly in your face and your eyes widen. The man in front of you looks at you quizzically, cocking his head to the side as he examines you. “Are you really Blossom?” He asks and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. 

“You really think I’d send someone in my place?” You ask with raised brows and the man only frowns. 

“You don’t look like the monster you’re made out to be. Where’s the girl that killed a whole family just because they looked at her wrong?” 

“That’s me. And I didn’t kill them because they looked at me wrong, I killed them because they were terrorizing my people.” 

“Even the children?” Truthfully you had spared the children, sending them to a boarding school far away before you killed their parents and writing them letters in place of their parents so that way they didn’t have to grow up being orphaned but no one really needs to know about that. It’s not the children’s fault that they had evil parents. You only smile at Namjoon in response and take joy in the way that his eyes widen in shock ever so slightly. It seems that he’s begun to realize he’s got more than he bargained for. “You seem too inexperienced. You should never turn your back to an enemy.” 

“Did I turn my back to you or did I draw you out of hiding?” You ask and again he furrows his brows. He hadn’t thought of that. “So show me where Jungkook is. Come on Kim Namjoon, where’s the emotional torture? Where’s the beatings and gang mentality as I get ambushed? For the head of strategy you didn’t really seem to think things through.” You say and in his moment of confusion, you dismantle the gun from him and slice along his chest. He groans beneath you and you roll your eyes, pushing your foot harder against his chest with the gun pointed at him. “Cmon Joonie you’re making it too easy. You’ve clearly never spent much time in the field have you?” You tsk, before removing your foot so Namjoon can stand up. He looks at you with big eyes and you almost feel pity. The poor guy was so overtaken by grief he sentenced himself to death. Unfortunately for him your loyalty runs too deep and you must eliminate any threat to your family. Flicking the gun to gesture at the warehouse you make Namjoon lead the way to Jungkook, memorizing the path through the boxes for when you leave. Clearly this is going to be a much easier job than you thought. 

Yet the air catches in your throat when you round the corner and see Jungkook bruised and bloody, his face painted by blues and purples, splashes of blood dotting his cheeks as the gag around his mouth is stained with blood. His arms and legs are tied to the chair he’s perched on and yet when he lifts his head to the sound of footsteps he begins thrashing wildly with wide eyes when he sees you. Turning off your emotions you fall back into the Blossom role, knowing that his thrashing indicates this is a trap. Searching through the top of the stacked boxes you look for shadows of figures and yet you find none. You turn yet again to Jungkook to search for answers only to see him get knocked out by the butt of a gun you didn’t know Namjoon was hiding. You underestimated him as well. 

“Blossom, blossom, blossom. As unexperienced as I may be in the field you really didn’t think I’d only bring one weapon did you? It’s no wonder your gang has gone to shit ever since your dad died, it’s clear that you’re incompetent as well as incapable of being a good leader.” He laughs, raising the gun to point at you. You raise your own and he just smiles again before setting his weapon down. “You know what, how about we do this the old fashion way? I heard guns weren’t your specialty anyways.” Shrugging off his coat you spot the long dagger tucked into his waistband. “Cmon sweetheart, show me just how dangerous you are.” 

“Gladly.” You say before tucking the gun into your bag. One thing Kim Namjoon seems to forget is that you should never leave your weapon unattended in case the aggressor can grab it for themselves. Your smile is wicked, as sharp and pointed as the two blades that sit in your hands. Rolling your shoulders you relax as you left yourself slip into an alternative headspace, one where your humanity doesn’t exist. Kill or be killed as they say. 

Namjoon lunges first, swinging his arm out widely, allowing you to dip under him and slice into his side. He yelps at the sting of the cut, holding onto his side as you stand across from him untouched. Poking his tongue into his cheek he charges again and you let him get close enough that you cut along his arm, causing him to instantly pull the knife back into him. He was close enough for the wound to be deeper and much more damaging than your previous surface cuts. “You bitch!” Namjoon yells angrily before charging at you in a fit of rage. Unfortunately, for however smart Kim Namjoon may be he is not a fast learner, had he been he would’ve realized he was too flamboyant in his attacks and left many areas of his body unprotected. Lodging a knife into his stomach you take the cut to the back of your shoulder as the other plants itself into his chest and only then does he slump over and flop onto the ground. With a sigh you walk over to his gun and turn back to him, crouching down so you can look at him in the eyes as the gun presses against his head. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and your stomach churns when you realize the both of you know it’ll be one of his lasts. 

“You gave a valiant effort Kim Namjoon. You can be proud that you tried.” It’s the only pity and condolence you offer before you stand up and shoot him square between the eyes. Grabbing the knives you wipe the blood off on his shirt before placing them back in their holders and the gun in your waistband. Turning to Jungkook your eyes once again water at seeing his pretty face damaged and gently take the gag out of his mouth. You hold back a sniffle before brushing the hair out of his eyes and beginning to untie his hands. You’ve only begun to loosen the knots before the hair on the back of your neck stands up and you turn slowly only to come face to face with someone you’d never thought you’d see again. 

“Jeon.” You say gruffly as Jungkook’s older brother stands before you. He’s much more ragged than when you last saw him, the night before Jungkook joined your gang a few years ago. He looks more tired than he did then too, the circles and bags heavy around his eyes. 

“Blossom.” He addresses, walking forward with the gun and you back a few feet away knowing that Jungkook is safe for now. “How lovely it is to see you again.” 

“What’re you doing here?” You ask. 

“I think we both know the answer to that question.” He smiles before looking down at Namjoon’s body. “I see you took out Namjoon for me. Don’t you just love when people do the dirty work for you? Just like what my brother does for you.” 

“Jungkook and I work together.” You say and he only rolls his eyes. 

“I’m sure. But thanks to you all the heads of MKJ are dead and I get to be the new leader. Well almost all of them, but give it-“ He checks his watch and as you go to grab your knife the safety clicks. “five hours and he should be dead as well. I can thank you for that as well since you outed his location. Truly, tell me how it feels to bring everyone you care for death.” 

“I- I don’t understand.” Who is he talking about?

“Speaking of which you almost got my baby brother killed that day with Hoseok. How is it that you’re willing to put the man you supposedly love in danger? And how could my baby brother supposedly love you when he knows what a monster you are? How can he not blame you for him having anything to do with your gang?” 

“Maybe because it wasn’t my fault. It was your debt that he paid. You were the one who let him do it for you. Do you even care that he did it so you could have a better life? Now all of his sacrifice was for nothing; you’re just doing the same shit for someone else.” You say and he huffs angrily. 

“I did this for him! I can protect him there unlike you.” 

“He was only in danger because of you!” You scream in frustration. He’s just as dense as you remember. 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not good enough for my brother and because he can’t realize that for himself I’ll just make the decision easier for him. Got any last words?” 

You swallow harshly but lower your head anyways and accept your fate. If you make one move he’ll kill you anyways. As long as Jungkook is okay you’re fine with dying. It only makes sense for you to be taken this way when you’ve done it to so many people before you. When you just did it to Namjoon who lays limply beside you. “I love you Jungkook.” You say, glancing towards him one last time to see him no longer in the chair. You glance up in confusion only to watch Jungkook tackle his brother to the ground as the gun flies out of his hand. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Jungkook yells in his brother’s face, pinning the older man to the ground. “Don’t you fucking touch her.” He says again sternly and in this moment you’ve never been more afraid of Jungkook than you are now. His body shakes with rage and his brother’s eyes are wide as fear surely strikes him too. 

“Jung-Jungkook I’m doing this for your own good. She made you into a murderer. She let you join her gang when you were so young, so innocent. She took away your chance at living a good life. ” His brother says the word with such disgust that you can only flinch at such a tone being directed at Jungkook. Your sweet Jungkook who viewed his brother with such pride and love. Your heart hurts for Jungkook to finally see his brother for who he is, the brother that you saw the night before Jungkook joined your gang. 

“The only thing she ever did was love me and now I realize that I gave up a life with her for you. For my selfish brother who let my young, innocent self join a gang in his place because he knew I’d take the fall for him. Who then joined another gang in an attempt to murder the woman I love just because she reminds you of what you did. Of the sacrifice I made for you that you made meaningless. So if I have to choose between the two of you, I choose her.” He turns to you then, eyes glossy as he holds a hand out for the gun between your waistband. 

“Jungkook-“ You start, tears pooling in your own eyes as you realize what’s about to happen. “You don’t need to do this-“ You say and Jungkook smiles sadly at you. 

“It’s the only way I can protect you. I have to do it.” Handing over the gun Jungkook’s hand shakes as he presses it to the head of his own brother. He takes in a deep breath before stilling his hand and looking at his brother for the last time. “Despite everything I still love you.” Jungkook whispers and just as he’s about to pull the trigger a bullet already finds itself in his brother’s head. You both glance up to find Yoongi standing there, his hand shaking as a gun lies in it. 

“Yoongi!” You scramble to stand up, questions swirling in your mind so quickly that you can’t even speak as your thoughts cut over one another. “How-how did you find me?” You finally ask and Yoongi just gives you a sad smile. 

“You kept your phone on you.” He says before turning to disappear behind the boxes. Jungkook’s sobs keep you from chasing after Yoongi as you run over to him, catching him in your arms as he falls back from the onslaught of tears. His body shakes and you climb over him to pull him into your chest, his strong arms coming to wrap around your waist and his head nuzzled into your neck as you quietly shush him. 

Hours later the two of you finally manage to pick yourselves off the floor of the warehouse and drive home. Jimin and Taehyung rush towards you when you finally open the door, pulling you both into their arms with fervor. “I thought you’d be dead.” Taehyung sobs and you flick the back of his head. 

“I told you I’d bring him back safe.” You say and Jungkook only begins to sob again as he must be thinking about what just happened again. The boys immediately ditch you in favor of one of their best friends and despite the situation you can’t help but smile at the soft scene before you, at the family you always dreamt of having.

With Jungkook finally settled and Taehyung clinging to him like a parasite, you and Jimin head into the kitchen to make some snacks and run over what just happened. “The one odd thing is-“ you start while mixing the cookie dough. “he talked about the third head of MKJ dying tonight. And I’d somehow outed his location? I just can’t figure out who it would be, I don’t really talk to anyone outside of you guys.” 

“What if it was that flower guy?” Jimin jokes and you pause, it all suddenly making sense. He knew who you were when you had first met and knew everything about you because he monitored you for MKJ. It matches his cover job in computer information. It explains the 10k watch and why he wanted a slow pace job. It explains why he suddenly moved in 6 months, conveniently the same time as when Jungkook’s brother became the head of intel. Interlude was the password to the MKJ files which is the same word tattooed on Yoongi’s wrist. He spoke like he knew your pain when you had to hide because people were shooting at you.  It explains why he panicked when he slipped and called you Blossom. MKJ. Min, Kim, Jung. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why he wanted a relationship with you. Was it all a ploy to separate you and Jungkook? But then why did he save Jungkook from having to kill his own brother? 

As if he knew you were thinking of him Yoongi messages you to come outside and immediately you panic. Hurriedly you grab the gun lying on your bed and head out the front door only to find Yoongi standing there anxiously, covered in ash. “Yoongi?” Immediately you drop the gun and check him for injuries, only finding a few minor burns. “Come inside, we need to treat these.” You say with a gentle pull on his wrist. 

“I can’t I don’t have time. They’ve burned down my shop and I barely escaped.” 

“Who did? MKJ?” You ask and then it clicks. Jungkook’s brother mentioned killing the final head, now known to be Yoongi, in his last moments. 

“Yes, they’ve discovered me and I don’t have much time before I have to leave again. But I couldn’t leave without asking you to come with me.” Taking your hands into his he soothes over your knuckles with his thumbs while looking up at you hopefully. “Come with me and we can settle down somewhere new and I’ll give you that white picket fence we talked about. We can get the house with the grand piano and can have a big yard in the backyard and tend to a garden. I have enough money that we can just stay in the house and relax every day, there’s no need to put ourselves in danger by going out and working. We can have the normal life that we’ve always dreamt of. So come with me and I’ll make it come true just for you. I’d do anything for you.” 

“Like kill Jungkook’s brother?” You ask, unable to help the question from falling off your lips. 

“Yes like killing his brother. I knew he’d hate himself for killing him or you for killing him so I decided he could just hate me. Another person can’t hurt.” He laughs weakly. “I know we haven’t been together for long but-“ 

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was?” You ask.

“If I told you I knew would you have even talked to me after? I meant what I said when I said you were a good person despite the circumstances. And I know it’s soon but I can see myself having a life with you and I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’m willing to give you everything I just need you to come with me. Please come with me, I don’t want to go through this alone.” His eyes shine with hope and yours shine with tears as you realize that this man in front of you is willing to give you everything you’ve dreamed of but you don’t want it. You don’t want it because it’s not with Jungkook and despite the ups and downs you’ve had with Jungkook there’s no one else you’d rather be with. You don’t want the white picket fence if it’s not with him. Sniffling you make eye contact with Yoongi and you can see the hope wither as he no doubt can see the rejection in your own. 

“I’m sorry but I can’t.” 

“But why?” Yoongi pleads, gripping your hands tighter as he senses you’re about to pull away. 

“I don’t want it if it’s not with him. I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s face falls and silently he slips his hands from your own to have them limply hang at his sides. It hurts to see him so sad and broken but after everything he’s done for you Yoongi deserves the truth. “I can offer you protection though. You don’t have to go.” 

“But I do. I won’t be able to just sit to the side and watch you love him. Besides I promised myself when I left MKJ that I wouldn’t return back to this life and I already broke that promise once for you.” You can only nod, eyes watering as you hold them back through a sniffle. Despite not knowing each other for long it hurts to see him go; you’d grown rather fond of the feisty flower boy.

“I understand. Call me if you need anything.” He only nods, coming closer for a second to place a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Take care Blossom. Maybe in another life we can be together.” He murmurs before turning away and disappearing into the night. 

Six months later and things are finally slipping into place. MKJ has imploded, the members turning against each other in aim to be the new head but the only thing they’ve accomplished is killing the entire gang off. With your rival out of the way you’ve had time to work things out, like your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve waited patiently by his side through his grief, holding his hand every time he breaks down as he remembers the final moments with his brother. You’re never more thankful for Yoongi than you are at these times, knowing that had he not shot the gun that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to survive the self-hatred. You still itch to check up on Yoongi but in order to protect him you refrain. He deserves a clean break and that means that you can’t be in his life, even as a friend. It hurts but the least you can do is let him move on. During this time you’ve also worked on yourself and all your past scars, pulling away at the old bandaids thrown haphazardly over your wounds to actually sew them back together. It’s hard and you must cry nearly every night but at this moment in time you can say that you’re finally okay with the person you are. That you deserve to be loved and that what matters is who you are today. Because as a great friend once said: our past does not define us, the only thing that does is who we are today. 

“Go on a date with me? A real one where I call you my girlfriend and hold your hand and do all that mushy shit.” Jungkook says, cheeks dusted a soft pink as he leans against your door frame with a bundle of yellow roses in his hand. 

“Ahh ever the romantic.” You tease to distract him from the way that your breath catches in your throat. His hair is parted neatly in the middle, framing his strong cheeks as it slightly curls around the edges. His large chest is hidden underneath a slim fitting black button up, the silk material shining softly under your bedroom lights. His thick thighs are covered by fitted black trousers and you have to stop yourself from swallowing loudly. He looks so handsome that you can barely figure out what to do with yourself as he fiddles under your stare. 

“Is that a yes?” He asks shyly and you can’t help the small laugh that tumbles out. He’s so intimidating in normal situations but here he’s like a boy asking out their first crush. He’s adorable and all yours. You’ve never felt so lucky. 

“It’s a yes Kookie. Let me get changed and we’ll go out okay?” He only nods, gently setting the flowers down on your bed. 

“So where are we going?” You ask as you change into a black dress tucked away in your closet for special occasions. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on you but pay it no mind as you move across the room to put on the necklace he bought you. Jungkook moves to stand behind you, humming thoughtfully as he latches the necklace around your neck. 

“It’s a surprise.” He says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder softly in finality. “Now cmon, my pretty girl deserves to finally be shown off.” Taking your hand in his, he leads you through the house and you giggle at his haste. You pass by Jimin and Taehyung who smile widely at the two of you, giving you a thumbs up as you walk by. 

You’re shocked to say the least when you pull up at the familiar location, a small restaurant taking place of Yoongi’s old shop. The floral scent has been replaced by that of baked bread and grilled meat as the two of you stand in front of it. Your eyes turn glassy for a minute as you stare up at what used to be your secret sanctuary. “I saw their opening night was tonight and thought you might want to come. I know this place meant a lot to you and I wanted you to know it turned into something beautiful.” 

Beautiful it was with its artisan exterior, the loft upstairs turned into a patio where you can eat under the stars. With a gentle tug, Jungkook leads you inside giving the hostess your name before she leads you up the stairs and to the patio. If you close your eyes you can still remember what Yoongi’s small apartment looked like and you smile at the memory. Opening your eyes everything is cast in a warm golden glow from the lights strung above and through the thin awning you can see the stars. 

“This is beautiful Kookie.” You smile and Jungkook smiles widely at you, reaching over to take your hand in his own. 

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried it might make you upset and that I ruined our first date.” 

“You did a great job baby.” You say softly, leaning over the table to place a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you.” You tell Jungkook and he brings your conjoined hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. 

“I love you too. Forever and always.” The moment is soft, his eyes turned honey as he gazes at you warmly, his love and adoration encasing you entirely. You’ve never felt more at home then in this moment and you know you made the right decision all those months ago.

[wkemeup]

Guiding Light (5)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7.9k warnings: torture, angst™, a fluffy flashback bc it’s seriously needed 🖤series masterlist // series playlist

O N E  M O N T H  L A T E R

Bucky was covered in sweat. Blood dripped from the gash on his forehead and an awful pain in his left thigh from where a knife was currently embedded into the muscle. He let out a guttural shout, shoving the Hydra agent back several feet and straight through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the foundation as particles of dust and drywall clouded around him.

The agent groaned, turning onto his stomach and attempted to crawl away, hands scrambling on the concrete, but Bucky was too quick, stalking over him with a quick yank to the knife buried in his leg and tossed it across the room. He reached down and grabbed a tight grip of the man’s collar, heaving the agent to his feet, then higher still as he held him off the ground. The man’s feet kicked at the air.

“Where is she?!”

“I don’t know what you’re—"

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Bucky howled, shaking the agent as his hands grasped at Bucky’s left wrist, nails scratching over metal plates. Bucky slammed the agent against what was left of the wall. “Tell me where she is or I’ll end your pathetic little li-”

“Bucky!” Steve shouted as he emerged through the hole in the wall, holstering his weapon.

Bucky shot Steve a glare, turning back to the agent and pressing the grip of his hand around the man’s neck, watching as he started to turn red. It was satisfying to watch him squirm.

Steve groaned, half-jogging towards Bucky until he stood over his shoulder.

“Buck, stop it,” Steve demanded, voice stern though he didn’t make a move to force Bucky to stand down. “We need him for information. You kill him and he’s useless to us.”

“He’s pretty useless right now,” Bucky countered, pressing harder on the agent’s windpipe.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Steve warned, cautious eyes glancing over his friend. “We’ll bring him back with us and interrogate him. He might know something, even if he doesn’t realize it.”

Bucky growled, eyes narrowing on the man as his skin began to turn a light shade of blue, lips gasping for breath, eyes bulging, and then, Bucky released his grip. The agent fell to the floor, coughing and retching as he struggled to find air. Bucky rolled his eyes in disgust, stepping away just as Sam rushed in to restrain the agent on the floor.

As Bucky made his way through the hole in the wall, blood dripping from the open wound in his thigh, Steve put his hand on his shoulder, a soft touch though it brought Bucky to a cold stop.

“I don’t like what this is doing to you, Buck.”

Bucky shook his head, the flattened expression seemingly permanent on his features. “I left this one alive for you, Steve. That should be good enough.”

Without bothering to wait for the speech Steve usually gave at the end of every raid about how Bucky was coming dangerously close to winter soldier territory and how he should take a break from missions for a few days, Bucky pushed his way out of the room and towards the quinjet. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d sit out another mission, not until they brought you home. He didn’t care if he fell right back into the cold, dark shell he barely existed in in the years before you came into his life. He'd put himself through the chair before he gave up on you. Consequences be damned.

The ride back to the compound was filled with the same uncomfortable silence it usually carried. With Steve attending to the pilot’s seat and Sam guarding the Hydra agent they had taken prisoner, Natasha swung her legs around the seat ahead of Bucky, eyeing him carefully as he kept his stare hardened on the flicker of the altitude light on the dashboard.

He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, and he curled his hands around the arm rests.

“Steve’s got a point, you know,” Nat said, leaning her right shoulder against the backrest of the seat. “Don’t think Y/n would like what all this is doing to you, either.”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Y/n is being held captive by the people who tore me apart from the inside out. She knows what they could do to her and she'd want me to do whatever the hell it took to bring her home.”

Nat sighed, gaze dropping for a moment as her eyes flickered over to your empty seat, the one next to Bucky. “She wouldn’t want you to lose yourself in the process, James.”

She was right. Bucky knew as much. From his first mission back in the field following the clearance from his therapist and Dr. Cho, he’d been different; more aggressive, too quick to shoot on sight, a cold hollowness in his chest with every base they raided only to come up empty. 

He was a far cry from the man you knew. The one who smiled often and teased you about the pillow crease marks on your cheeks in the morning and learned how to make banana bread just because he overheard you mention just once in passing how much you loved it. He lost his quick-witted jokes with Sam and flinched away from Steve’s touch. You’d be disappointed in him for closing up so easily without you around.

Bucky clenched his jaw, turning back to Natasha. “Yeah, well Y/n isn’t here, is she?”

Nat stared back at him, firm features on her face, though a sadness lingered being her eyes. She nodded carefully because there was nothing left to say and turned back around in her seat. Bucky felt no relief.

Hours later as the team debarked the jet, Tony was waiting at the edge of the hanger, arms crossed over his chest and a desolate look upon his face. Bucky could already fell the tightness in his chest, knowing exactly what that look meant.

“We got another tape,” Tony said flatly. Steve and Sam exchanged a worried glance and Bucky could feel the entire team’s eyes on him, searching for a reaction they wouldn’t find. He was too numb for that now. Tony gestured for everyone to follow him back into the compound.

“How many does this put us at, Tony?” Steve asked as they made their way to the living room on the eleventh floor.

“Five,” Bucky replied, interjecting before Tony could answer. Sam cursed under his breath.

Since the first video was played on live television, different news networks across the country had started to receive a new tape once a week.

The second time you appeared on the television, looking worse than the first with the infection on your cheek spreading in angry red veins down your face, and dark purple bruising under your eye, Bucky had been out on a run.

He’d returned to find the entire team gathered around the television in the living room. Nat’s hand pressed over her mouth. Steve pacing back and forth as he stole quick glances at the screen. Sam gritting his teeth, arms crossed over his chest. Tony sitting on the very edge of the couch, hands clasped, head dropped.

You’d been forced deliver some bullshit line about how Hydra was the real hero of the attack in D.C. and how SHIELD was an enemy of the people. You looked like you had taken a fresh beating before that recording and Bucky knew you had tried to resist reading those cue cards, but Hydra has an exceptional way of making even the strongest of wills cave. He was familiar with it himself and he was thankful you did, if it spared you even an ounce of pain.

Tony was somehow able to get a hold of the third video before it aired and he did everything in his power to keep the news network from releasing it. It was shock value, ratings, just to have your face on their screen, broken and beaten, reciting from cue cards with a voice so raspy Bucky could barely stand hearing it without tears welling behind his eyes. You swayed in the seat as you spoke, barely able to keep yourself upright. This time, Hydra had you talk about their technological advancements, how they were surpassing SHIELD in strategy and resources. Steve was taking notes.

The media started to speculate after that; throwing around commentary aimlessly about whether you were a traitor to the state or if you had been a double agent all this time. They had debates about if resources should be spent to find you at all, given the state of your appearance and the apparent ‘obvious’ fact that you’d given Hydra information on US defense programs. Bucky had nearly thrown an entire chair at the TV when he heard that. Even daytime talk shows and late-night hosts were talking about it, giving their two cents as if their opinion mattered.

The fourth video had been the worst. They didn’t bother with cue cards, or with strapping you to a chair. Instead, the entire three minute and forty-six second video was just a man in a black mask beating you. You were too weak, your muscles too deteriorated and brain too foggy to fight back. Blood splattered onto the camera lens when the final hit took you down, knocking you out cold.

Sam nearly lost his mind, calling down to the network himself for them to cut the feed to the damn video, questioning how they could even air something as graphic and violent as that. It always came back to the same answer: ratings.

The man in the mask, the same voice Bucky recognized from the first video, had said that this was a punishment for you as he held your unconscious body up for the camera to see. For what, Bucky didn’t know. He supposed it didn’t matter. He had gripped the edge of the counter so tight it broke into pieces in his hands.

Forty-five days you’ve been held captive by Hydra by the time the fifth video came in. Forty-five days.

Bucky knew exactly the kinds of horrors you would face. He knew they would beat you and starve you and torture you until you lost your will to live. He didn’t dare let himself imagine you like he had once been; crying and begging, so fucking afraid and cringing from every touch because pain was all he came to know. He didn’t want to imagine you as anything other than the impossibly sweet, bubbly, endearing woman that pulled him from the cold edge of darkness, the woman he came to love.

“This aired while you guys were somewhere over the Atlantic,” Tony said, turning the TV on and setting up the recorded segment. This time, a man sat behind the anchor’s desk, dark brown hair coiffed away from his face and a navy-blue suit. He was scribing with a pen as he spoke, keeping his hands busy.

“--received yet another recorded tape from members of the terrorist group known as Hydra,” the man stated as an image of your face appeared on the screen beside him. It was a still from the previous video, blood covering your face. Bucky cringed.

“This time, the tape had been left at our studio headquarters in Los Angeles. The random drop offs seem to be the culprit's main tactic in evading the police who have attempted to apprehend whoever is behind these recording.”

The anchor sighed. “Please be advised that what you are about to see may be graphic and difficult to watch.”

The warning that always proceeded these videos.

They didn’t have to show this. They didn’t have to put your pain and torture on display for millions to witness, but they did anyway. For what? Ratings? They were feeding into what Hydra wanted. To create fear and distrust amongst the people, to see their hero beaten and broken while the Avengers did nothing to save her.

Bucky felt sick.

The screen switched to the same dark room they usually filmed these videos in and sure enough, there you were, gazing at the camera under heavy lids, purple bruises and features gaunt. Bucky gripped at the edge of the couch as he leaned against it for support, dropping his head for only a second to catch his breath. Steve’s hand rested on his shoulder and Bucky took as much strength as his friend was offering and faced the television again.

You swallowed, eyes glazing over as you struggled to read from the cards. There was a clench in your jaw, a sniffle, and Bucky realized suddenly you were trying to keep yourself from crying. You glanced over at someone behind the camera, pleading, begging, and you closed your eyes shut at whatever his response was. A tear slipped down the side of your face. Defeated. 

Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he tasted blood.

“Bucky,” you choked out and his stomach plummeted, all eyes in the room turning to him, “they know you’ll-- you’ll be watching this and they have a message for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, hands curling against the arm rest, finger nails long been ripped from you, red angry skin in its place. Licking at your lips you shook your head subtly, so carefully that Bucky almost missed it, like you were trying to send him a sign beyond what your captors would notice. A tear passed over the dried blood caked on your cheek.

“This is—this is because of you.”

Then, your restraints were released and you were being thrown from the chair, body slammed against the wall with such force you let out a pained cried as you struggled to grab onto the arm holding you in place. A tall figure, muscular build, with that same black mask covering his face he wore in every video thus far, wrapped his hand around your neck.

Bucky clenched his hands, arms trembling, helpless, because there was nothing he could do. This had already happened. You’d already been beaten, already uttered his name in that helpless cry, all while he was completely unaware. It was only a recording. He couldn’t save you from what had already happened. 

The man pulled you towards him, only to slam you against the wall again. When your face turned blue, he tossed your body carelessly across the room. You heaved through raspy breaths, desperate to find air and you tried to crawl away. The fear in your eyes was enough to break Bucky in two.

Then, the screen turned black.

“What the hell!” Bucky shouted, rushing towards the television, searching for the power button only to find it did nothing as he pressed it. He whipped around to face Stark. “What did you do!?”

“You don’t need to see that,” Tony replied calmly and Bucky nearly released a feral growl as he attempted to charge at Stark before Steve came up behind him and held him back.

Tony stood his head. “There’s nothing else in that video beside that asshole beating Y/n unconscious. Again. They’re doing it to torture you, Barnes.”

“So, let them!” Bucky shouted, struggling against Steve’s grip. He slammed Steve’s back against the television, though it did nothing to release his grip.

“I’ve seen the whole thing,” Tony snapped, shouting over the struggle between the super soldiers. “It’s ugly and I know for a fact Y/n wouldn’t want you to watch it. Its only purpose is to mess with you, don’t you get that? You saw how hard she was fighting even having to read that damn card! We all know you’d only use it as fuel to punish yourself again and again for her being where she is and I’m sick of it! Y/n would be pissed as hell that you’ve been so willing to jump right back into Winter Soldier mode at the first excuse you got!”

“Watch it, Tony!” Steve warned and Bucky threw himself from Steve’s hold.

To everyone’s surprise, even as Tony activated the extension of his suit on his hand from the pieces in his watch, as Sam and Nat readied themselves for a fight, Bucky remained completely still. Chest panting, hands clenching into painful grips at his side. A lull came over and everyone relaxed. Everyone but Bucky.

“What’s happening to Y/n is not your fault, Barnes,” Tony pressed and Bucky kept his gaze focused on the floorboards. “We all know that you did everything you could to save her that day. But Y/n is strong. Her body may be weak right now but her mind isn’t. She’s strong and she’ll survive this. Just... don’t be a different person when she gets back.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, looking up to Tony who was disarming the iron man armor on his hand. Tony was never someone Bucky expected to get along with, not after the history they shared, and he was okay with that. So, for Tony Stark, the man who Bucky deprived of his parents, to show him concern, to some him even some level of compassion, was too much.

He turned on his heels and left the room, disregarding his name as it was called.

***

“Let me talk to him.”

Forty-seven days since you’d been taken and Bucky stood outside of the interrogation room in the sub-ground level of the compound. Behind the thick layer of the one-way mirror, Bucky observed the agent he nearly beat to death in the abandoned Hydra base in Germany sitting smugly at the center of the room. The agent that now had an identity after FRIDAY was able to run facial recognition.

His name was Cal Jennings, a mid-level agent with a Hydra security clearance high enough to know more than what he said. Dried blood caked on his upper lip from where Natasha had broken his nose on day one of her interrogation. He wasn’t the same fearful mess he had been when Bucky had his hands on him. It was a front, a ploy, to lure Bucky into killing another one of their agents before they could be interrogated for information.

Jennings sat alone, arms tied behind his back, as he stared at the mirror. If Bucky didn’t know this was a one-way mirror, he would have thought Jennings was looking right at him.

“You know I can’t allow that, Buck,” Steve replied to his request as he turned away from the window to face his friend. “He knows something and--”

“That’s exactly why you need to send me in, Steve,” Bucky countered, growing desperate. “I can get it out of him. You know I can.” Steve hesitated, clearly thinking and Bucky continued, “If he knows anything about where Y/n is... Please, Stevie.”

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping and he gave a slow nod.

Before Steve could change his mind, Bucky pushed his way out the door and into the hallway. The fluorescents were brighter out there, enough that he had to squint to avoid the harsh influx of light to his eyes. A few more steps and he was at the door. Right hand reached out and touched the cold metal of the knob, unclicking the locks until it swung open.

Jennings didn’t so much as turn in Bucky’s direction as he stepped into the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Bucky studied Jennings, searching for weaknesses he’d been trained to locate in his Hydra days; fresh wounds to exploit, the slight dip of a bone broken years ago he could re-snap, the flicker of eyes to a vulnerable position. Jennings gave him nothing, kept his stare straight ahead on the mirror, admiring his own reflection, but Hydra had trained Bucky well. He would find something to make Jennings talk. He always did.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky grumbled, pacing around the room in slow, calculated steps, “where is she?”

Jennings chuckled and it made Bucky’s blood boil. “I thought I was... what did you say... ‘useless?’”

“An act,” Bucky spat, circling around the back of Jennings’ chair. “You wanted me to kill you so you wouldn’t have to sit where you are now. You knew what you would face if we brought you in alive and you cowered away.”

Jennings smirked, meeting Bucky’s eye in the mirror. “You think very highly of yourself, Soldat.”

Bucky flinched at the name, a chill sweeping through his spine. Jennings pursed his lips, taking note of the curl of Bucky’s hand at it clenched into a fist.

“Tell me, Soldat,” Jennings taunted, “does your whore know everything about your past with us? Does she know how many you’ve killed? How many civilians have been caught in the crossfire? Does she know how much you enjoyed it?”

He paused, snickering as he glared over at Bucky with a kind of disgust and amusement all mixed in one, eager to watch the former soldier fall apart at the mere mention of your name. Jennings smirked.

“Does your girl know she’s fucking a monster?”

A growl ripped through Bucky’s chest and his left hand was suddenly wrapped around Jennings’ throat. Pressing hard against his vocal cords, Jennings still managed to chuckle through the gasps of air.

It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you like that, that he’d never had the chance to so much as tell you how he felt, let alone show you in such a way. The very idea of this man talking about you like that, the clear picture in his head as his licked his lips even with Bucky’s hand wrapped tight around his neck, drew a burning rage from somewhere dark, deep within Bucky’s chest.

A hand slammed against the one-way mirror from the observation room; Steve’s warning to back off. Bucky released Jennings with a grunt.

Heavy coughs and a snicker under his breath, Jennings only seemed to grin wider at Bucky’s reaction. “Touchy...”

“Where is she?” Bucky demanded, voice low, even, and restraining the rage festering under the surface.

“Who?”

“You know the fuck who, asshole.”

“Oh,” Jennings feigned realization. A short shrug of his shoulders and then, “Agent Y/l/n?”

Bucky took in a breath that was hot in his lungs. He folded the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, exposing the cold metal of his left forward. Jennings laughed to himself.

“I remember her. Liked the way that stealth suit of hers clung to her ass,” Jennings jeered, shooting Bucky a watchful stare from the reflection of the mirror, waiting for him to break. Bucky clenched his jaw, curling his hands back into fists to keep them off of the man’s face.

“Enough,” Bucky spat. “Where is she?”

"You know, I see why you’re upset, Soldat. You know exactly what we will do to her because you’ve experienced it yourself,” Jennings said, too calmly, too arrogantly to stir up anything but a paralyzing dread in Bucky’s stomach. “You know that we’ll ruin her. You know we’ll rip her apart from the inside out. We’ll break her down so she becomes something so unrecognizable you’d wish we had killed her!”

Jennings yanked on his bindings, almost feral, and Bucky suddenly couldn’t move.

“She’s been beaten and tortured and mutilated just like you were!” Jennings continued with a malice in his voice Bucky had only heard in his decades under Hydra’s hold. “You won’t find her in time. You won’t save her. She’ll die in that cell the way you were supposed to! You’re never going to see her again!”

It was too much, the blood boiling in his veins, the pulsing in his head blinding his vision, and Bucky could hardly feel the ground beneath his feet. Jennings watched him from the mirror as Bucky stood in the back corner of the room, eyes on the floor, struggling to get ahold of himself and Jennings began to laugh, a sick kind of sound that only seemed to worsen the trembling in his hands.

“Tell me where she is!” Bucky yelled out, punching his fist against the wall enough to break off fragments of the concrete wall behind his knuckles. Jennings shrugged, unaffected.

“Why would I do that?” he sneered, a vicious grin curling up his thin lips. “It’s so fun to see the infamous Winter Soldier, the man who has killed presidents and taken out entire governments single handedly, reduced to a lovesick, pathetic little man over some cheap, worthless whor--”

Bucky’s fist collided with the side Jennings’ face, enough for blood to splatter from the sick curve of his grin to the pavement below. But he didn’t let up. No, he swung again, this time with the hard metal of his left fist and Jennings’ chair, bolted to the ground, lifted from the hinges and crashed to the floor on its side. Bucky couldn’t hear Steve as he pounded on the glass, warning him, not as he threw punch after punch into Jennings’ side, his face, his gut, as he grabbed a hold of Jennings’ leg and twisted until something popped and Jennings let out a scream.

Steve and Sam barreled into the room, arms snaking around Bucky to hull him off, blood dripping off of his knuckles as he shook Sam off easily, shoving Steve back against the mirror causing it to crack. Bucky charged back to the ground, grabbing a firm grip of Jennings’ collar, forcing him to meet his eye, even under layers of blood on his face and the swelling already forming over his features.

“I won’t ask again!” Bucky roared, fist held high, ready to strike, “Where is she?!”

Steve and Sam froze behind Bucky as Jennings began to snicker, blood sleeping out from behind his lips, pooling over his chin. He spat a thick glob of it to the floor, teeth red as he jeered up at Bucky.

“You will never find her, Soldat,” Jennings slurred through the blood pooled in his mouth. “Your final punishment is what we will do to her and she will never be the same.”

Bucky dropped his grip, stumbling back and Jennings collapsed to the ground. Sam rushed forward, hulling Jennings’ chair back on its legs and pressed his fingers to Jennings’ pulse. A sigh of relief as he looked back at Steve, a nod, and Bucky nearly fell to the ground. Steve’s strong arms snaked under Bucky’s and yanked him to his feet before his knees could buckle under him.

“You got this?” Steve asked Sam, nodding at Jennings whose chin was draped to his chest, knocked out cold.

“Yeah I can handle this piece of shit,” Sam grumbled back, resting his hands on his hips. He glanced back at Buck as he hung in Steve’s grip. “Get him out of here.”

Bucky allowed Steve to assist him out of the room, just long enough to regain strength in his legs, and he waved him off carefully, giving him an appreciative nod. Steve didn’t say anything, but he walked Bucky the entire way to the elevator. For good reason, Bucky assumed. He would have tried to sneak back into the interrogation room for another shot at Jennings if he thought Steve wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“You’re not thinking straight, Buck,” Steve said as they approached the elevator. He pressed the single button and it illuminated under his touch.

“Never really could without her,” Bucky shrugged.

“That’s not true. You’ve done so well and, sure, Y/n has been a huge help in your recovery and you’ve only gotten better since you guys have been, um... close,” Steve said awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head, “but, you can still be you without her. You’re strong enough for that.”

“What if I don’t want to be?” Bucky sighed dejectedly.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, though Bucky didn’t move. He stared at the small scratches on the metal shine of the wall, tiny imperfections. An ache sat and festered in Bucky’s chest, like a boulder holding weight on his lungs, only able to alleviate when you were beside him.

“Please, don’t say that,” Steve exhaled sadly. “We all know what she means to you and I know this is killing you but... you’ll survive this, Buck. We’ll bring her home, you hear me?”

“It’s just, I...” Bucky let out a heavy breath, turning to his oldest friend as his clenched his jaw, trying to stop the lump building in his throat, “I love her, Steve, and... and I’m-- I’m afraid it’s the reason they’re doing this to her.”

The doors began to close and Steve stuck his hand out to hold them against the frame. Bucky stepped inside, pressing his lips into a thin line. It was the most he could manage. Steve only stared at him, trying to find the right words to say even if there were none. The doors tried to close again but Steve kept them open.

“We’ll bring her home, Buck,” he said again, though the hesitancy in his voice betrayed him.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from the ground. He wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore. 

The doors rang out and attempted to close a third time and Steve let his hand fall away, stepping back into the hall. There was nothing left to say.

***

Bucky didn’t know how he ended up at the door to your room, but there he was. It was quiet on the floor. With Steve and Sam still in the sub-level interrogating Jennings and Natasha spending most of her time training, the private quarters were largely unoccupied. You shared a floor with Bucky, Sam, and Wanda, though Wanda has been off in Wakanda for the last few months working with Shuri and Vision on controlling her abilities.

Bucky wondered if Stark had assigned him to this floor on purpose, with his room just a few feet away from yours. He could have thrown Bucky into a floor all his own, secluded, away from everyone else, just because he could, as some frankly reasonable punishment for what he did to Stark’s parents, though, he must have figured Bucky would have preferred that. And yet, being so close to you, running into you every morning felt almost like fate.

Slowly, he twisted the knob to your door, cool under his touch, and stepped inside. The window was open, curtains flowing softly with the breeze as it swept through the room. Chills ran up Bucky’s spine and he crossed the room to close the window. As he turned around, he spotted your workout clothes from that morning still tossed over the edge of your bed, sneakers kicked off by the bathroom, and the hanger your stealth suit lying on the floor by the door.

It was untouched, like you were never gone, like it hadn’t been forty-seven days since he last saw you.

Bucky swallowed back the bile in his throat, glancing down at his right hand as he sat on the edge of your bed. His knuckles were covered in blood, red angry marks and broken skin upon his fist.

He closed his eyes and tried to bring himself back to the first time you had helped clean the wounds on his skin. Dr. Cho was busy tending to Steve’s injuries, with Sam closely next in line, and Bucky only had superficial cuts, ones he insisted would heal overnight, but you wouldn’t accept that.

You dragged him up to your room, demanded he sit on your bed, and you grabbed the first aid kit from your nightstand. He couldn’t quite tell if you were angry or just determined with that thin little crease forming on your forehead as you worked bringing a twist to his stomach. You didn’t say a word as you disinfected the open wounds on his hand or when he hissed at the alcohol on his skin. You didn’t warn him to be careful next time because you knew it would happen again. It was his job, after all.

Soft, careful touches as you wrapped his hand in gauze, offering him a sweet smile as you told him he was good as new like you actually believed that. It was one of the memories he held onto tightest. Just the ease with which you touched him, like he wasn’t made of broken fragments, like he was something whole. It was the first time he considered that you might be right.

Bucky stood and rounded the corner of your bed, pulling out the drawer of your nightstand. Sitting on top, just as he remembered, was the first aid kit. He pulled it from the drawer and set it on the bed, popping open the lid and grabbing the supplies he would need. He did his best to clean the mess on his hand, all the while knowing that you’d have done a better job because you always handled him with the kind of care he never gave himself.

After his hand was wrapped and the sting of the alcohol was fresh on his skin, he moved to set the kit back into the drawer when something caught his attention.

Carefully, he slipped his left hand into the drawer and pulled out a single polaroid. It took him a moment to recognize where it was from, but the moment he did, the memory came flooding back.

-

Bucky always liked running; the feel of the air sweeping through his hair, the burn in his lungs, the sore ache of his legs. It let him focus on something other than the thoughts rummaging in his mind. It gave him an opportunity to just... be.

You were on his left, a slight pant in your breath, and Bucky was cautious to take note of when it sounded like you were struggling to hold the pace for his sake and he’d slow down enough that you wouldn’t notice and your breaths came in a little easier. Then, he’d speed up when he thought you were ready again.

Seven miles around the property; the path twisting through the back field where the recruits did their field training, behind the lake, and through a section of the forest which helped to seclude the compound. It was a beautiful view, if Bucky was being honest. Upstate New York in the fall just as the leaves were turning colors, some crunching under his sneakers as he ran. The air was crisp in his lungs, cool on his skin.

It had been a while since he felt so relaxed. You had a habit of bringing that out in him. It had become part of his routine, getting up in the morning and throwing on shorts and a crew neck, tying his sneakers at the kitchen table as he waited for you to emerge from your room; that genuine look of surprise that always seemed to morph into something like relief as you spotted him.

Even after he warmed up a little, letting himself find his voice around you and reluctantly agreeing to follow you into the middle of Brooklyn, he still found himself incredibly nervous. It was foreign for him to feel such a way, like a heat could form in his cheeks if you asked him the right question and the sweat that lined in his right hand as you stood close to him without thinking much of it.

You were starting to breath too hard beside him, face burning red and sweat dripping down from your hairline, and Bucky slowly pulled to a stop. There was only a half mile back to the main building from here, and he figured you could use a cool down to stretch your muscles anyway.

You paused, leaning over and resting your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. You stole a quick glance up at Bucky, who was only watching you carefully. His heartrate was hardly elevated, hair dry and hanging by his shoulders, breaths even.

“You’re insufferable. You know that?” you teased with a growing smile, wiping your forearm across your hairline and shaking the excess sweat out into the grass. “Why even bother coming on these runs with me if they clearly do nothing for you?”

“I never said they did nothing for me,” Bucky replied softly, eyes squinting from the sun as he looked back up at the compound.

These runs may not challenge him physically, but they still had purpose. It got him out of his room and dressed in the morning. It got him using his body again for something other than destruction and survival. It got him pumping the blood back into his veins and out into the fresh air, something Steve had been trying to accomplish with him unsuccessfully in the month before he met you. It got him more time with you.

These runs were something Bucky looked forward to. It had been a while since he had something like that.

You narrowed your eyes on him, a purse of your lips as you studied him for a tell you wouldn’t find. A short laugh as you shook your head and exhaled, “ok fine! Run at a mortal's pace then, super soldier.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath as you started to walk back along the path, watching as you shot him a teasing smirk over your shoulder and he jogged a few paces to catch up to you. He always felt better by your side, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

It was a slow walk up to the back entrance, with you stretching your arms behind you until they cracked, pulling a wince out of Bucky you found to be rather hilarious. You complained about your sore muscles and teased Bucky about his unfair advantage, all while tossing him those smiles that made his stomach weak.

He pushed a few steps ahead to grab the door for you as you walked back inside, giving him a casual salute as you passed by, causing him to chuckle softly.

“So, what are your plans this morning?” you asked off-handedly, like you genuinely believed he might have something on his schedule other than secluding himself to his room. You grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen and tossed one to him over the counter. He caught it easily in his left hand.

“Super busy,” Bucky shrugged as he twisted off the cap. “Thought I’d head back into the city and walk around for a while. Maybe see if Sam wanted to meet me at one of those coffee joints with cats hanging around and buy a novelty shirt from Times Square.”

“Wow, Buck, that’s--” you started, a little taken back and surprised at his answer. Though, when Bucky tried to suppress a laugh as he took a swig from the water bottle, you pouted, putting your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to the city.”

“No, I’m not,” Bucky confirmed with a slight shake in his head. “I’m a little shocked you thought I’d go anywhere with birdbrain, let alone back into the city.”

“Oh, it’s not entirely unrealistic! You had a good time when we went to Brooklyn last month, didn’t you?”

Bucky nodded, “yeah, but I was with you, wasn’t I? Different situation entirely.”

“Is it?” you asked curiously, the teasing nature absent from your voice and Bucky realized the implications of what he said. You were watching him too carefully, with a hopefulness behind your eyes that caught Bucky entirely off guard.

“Oh, well, I meant that, um,” Bucky stumbled over his words, his throat suddenly feeling dry, “I just... I don’t know... I’m more comfortable around you. I guess.”

Your lips slowly curved into the widest smile Bucky had ever seen, which was a feat within itself knowing you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, think so,” Bucky replied with a nervous laugh and you punched the air like you had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. The anxiety faded away as he watched you grin at him, like you had been hoping for this all along. He let himself laugh.

“Good! Well that means you’re free then,” you quipped, rushing from behind the counter and grabbing a hold of the wrist on his left hand, like it wasn’t made of metal, like it wasn’t something lethal, and tugged him towards your room. “Come on! I’ve got something I wanna show you.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile pressing up on his cheeks as he followed you down the hall, your delicate fingers still wrapped around metal. He found himself fixated on it, so perplexed how you could touch this piece of him so casually, like it wasn’t something to fear, something to be disgusted by.

You pushed open the door to your room and shoved him teasingly to sit on the flood at the end of your bed. He watched as you raced around the room, grabbing a few books off the shelves and your laptop from the desk. You took a seat next to him, folding your legs under you and your shoulder brushed his.

“Prepare to get educated, Barnes.”

You showed him a few of the books he recognized from the trip to Brooklyn, ones you purchased after you had insisted he catch up on what he had missed. After careful consideration, you placed two of the five books on his lap, explaining the synopses and instructed him to pick one. He had just finished To Kill a Mockingbird, his first choice on the list you gave him. Of the two you laid out for him, he chose Fahrenheit 451. You, of course, got a kick out of that because it was Steve’s favorite on the list you had provided when you first met him as well.

Bucky couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the thought of anyone else sharing these kinds of moments with you, curled up one the floor by your bed, rustling through old books, as you typed away on your laptop. Though, with the way you were stealing glances at him every few minutes, lip caught between your teeth as you typed away, it was easy to forget about anything but you and this moment.  

"What are you doing?” Bucky asked as he glanced over the back cover of the book, flipping through the worn pages.

“Making you a playlist,” you replied, eyes still glued to your screen as you clicked and dragged songs over into a folder on the left side. “Your education doesn’t stop with books, Bucky! I’ve got a whole plan here. Music. Movies. Television. Food. Theater. Tourist traps.”

“Of course,” Bucky laughed, the very idea of spending more time with you like this making his stomach pleasantly weak. You grinned back at him and set the laptop in the space between you, clicking play on the first song of the playlist. Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You’re done already?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you shrugged and Bucky’s lips curved up into a smile, wondering when you had decided to put the first song on the list and what moments made you think of him, what melodies or lyrics reminded you of him enough to put them together in a playlist. You shoved his shoulder, pointing to the laptop. “Listen!”

Bucky pressed his lips together, nodding as he stilled himself. The soft strum of the guitar filled the room, accompanied by what sounded like an old grainy texture he’d find on tracks from his time, only this sounded more like waves coming in along a beach. Then, a man’s voice came through the static and the acoustic strumming, soft, comforting, joined by the delicate pulsing rhythm of a tambourine.

‘Been traveling these wide roads for so long.

My heart’s been far from you

Ten-thousand miles gone’

Bucky sat back against the frame of your bed, letting the soft tones of the music relax in his muscles and carry away the thoughts in his head. He listened as the harmonies sang over the chorus, the familiar sound, the new sound, the somewhere in between, until it eventually slowed and a woman’s voice came through, lulling Bucky into a calm he could only drop his guard to find next to you.

The voices began to fade and tambourine chimed one last time, and you reached out and pressed pause before the next song could play, carefully looking to him for his reaction. Bucky didn’t know how you had come to learn him so well in the few months since he met you, how you had managed to get him to open up, even if in small careful steps, how you could possibly find a song that reminded him so much of his youth but ushered in a new era at the same time.

It was perfect. It was his new favorite song. He wanted to hear it twenty times over as long as you’d sit next to him.

“Do you like it?” you asked nervously, glancing back at the screen. “There’s others, too. I just thought, maybe you’d--”

“Play again, will ya?” Bucky interjected, smiling at you softly, enough for you to return it eagerly as a relief relaxed over your features. You nodded and restarted the song. The strum of the guitar filled the room again.

Bucky didn’t even notice you pull a camera from under your bed as he listened to the calming melodies of the song. You scooted an inch or so closer to him, enough that your hip touched his and Bucky sucked in a careful breath. You held the camera out at the end of your arm, lens facing you.

“Smile, Buck,” you requested, nodding to the camera when he shot you a confused look.

Bucky watched as you turned back to the camera, smiling as you leaned your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t imagine how easily it was for you to be so close to him, to want to be, after all that he’d done. You treated him with a kindness he never thought he’d see again. He decided he’d do just about anything you asked of him.

So, he took a deep breath, turning to the lens and allowing the smallest of smiles to curve on the edges of his lips, his head tilting until it rested on the crown of your head, soft waves under the subtle of his jaw.

The flash clicked and a square film printed out from the bottom of the camera. You pulled it out carefully and blew it on delicately. It was dark and Bucky could hardly tell if he was even in the image or not.

“It’ll develop, don’t worry,” you said with a wink. “In the meantime, I’ve got more songs for you. Get ready to be blown away.”

Bucky chuckled, settling in for the rest of the day if you wanted, resting his back on your bed and playing with the fibers of the carpet under his palm. Your thigh was still pressed up to his and you made no effort to move away. Bucky found he didn’t mind at all.

-

Three years later and you kept it all this time.

Bucky held the polaroid in his hand, gripped so tightly between his fingers it startled to crinkle in the corner. The curve of your smile, the lines by your eyes as you grinned for the camera, curling up against him. An innocence in his own eyes he hardly even recognized.

You changed him, pulled him from the darkness, helped him find his own footing to step into the light.

Bucky pressed the photo to his chest, tears welling in his eyes as a lump choked in the back of his throat. He didn't know if he could survive without you, without his light.

He didn’t know if he wanted to.

-------

If you didn’t notice up at the top, I’ve made an official playlist for this series! It has the one in the memory, some songs that will pop up later, plus just some stuff that inspired me as I wrote and songs that just complete the vibe of this fic. Check it out if you’re interested! 💕I am also working on one for The Witness and an upcoming mini series 🌸

feedback is always appreciated! 💖

tags 👟@sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13

[anotherkpopvictim]

Into a New World (Through the Gate) - BTS OT7 Fantasy Story Chapter 5

(Gif source - btsville)

A/N: Dang...has it really been almost a month since I last updated? Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy this. I had to spend some time figuring out where this story was going.

I decided to come up with a timeline because the next few chapters might be a bit confusing if you don't have a visual timeline with their ages and the flashbacks. Each chapter I will add a link to an updated timeline that includes new information from the previous chapter. You don't need to read the timeline, but if find yourself a bit confused about things while reading, it should help. This first one is very short, but each chapter they will get longer as more information is added.

Timeline - https://docs.google.com/document/d/19VsexNuIkbWRu6IuXSjYoRNImk7DtAc2ckW0erLUHRU/edit?usp=sharing

Relationship: BTS X BTS

Rating: T

Words: 3159

Hurt/comfort, fluff, fantasy

NOTE: I've added the present-day date (3501) to this chapter and the next few chapters as they will contain quite a few flashbacks. Flashbacks will be in italics.

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Chapter 5: The Ties

Worldbuilding Note on Packs: A pack is simply a group of any number and mix of supernatural creatures. Most commonly, say on Earth, you would find packs made mostly of vampires and werewolves with the occasional witch or another being, while packs in Aurora (the fairy kingdom) are pretty much one hundred percent comprised of fairies. Creatures tend to stick to their homeland, but Earth is a bit of an exception as it is considered the center of all the worlds - a hub of sorts. Packs are comprised of all members of a polyamorous relationship (or sometimes simply a pairing).

A pack bond is initiated by exchanging bites on the neck. Depending on the number of packmates, these bites can sometimes overlap. As packs are considered soulmates, some of the members have a tug at their heartstrings upon meeting a future packmate for the first time - only some of them, however. These people of a pack are known as the Ties and tend to take on a leadership role as a pack grows. There is usually only one Tie for small packs, but larger packs can have more than one. Once bonded, pack members have a much easier time understanding each other's feelings and simply feel closer on another level. Ties usually feel an amplified version of this from the second they meet a pack member.

Finding all members of a pack can take anywhere from years to centuries, and it isn't uncommon for some packs to never find all of their members and consequently, some creatures never have a pack. Fate works in mysterious ways. If you are lucky enough to find all of your pack members, you will know because the Ties with feel an overwhelming sense of peace and settlement once everyone is bonded.

On another note, a were-pack is different from a pack. A were-pack is simply a community of local shifters, usually separated by city or village. While some big-city were-packs live with humans, smaller towns or villages of were-packs don't have close connections with humans.

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

September 8 3501, Present Day

"You really..." Hoseok trailed off, unsure of how to put into words the many things running through his mind at that moment.

"Jungkook was the last one to join our pack," Namjoon began, eyes on the fairy as he picked at the skin around his fingernails nervously. "His pack bond with us became obvious when he was turned and all of us had known him for a while and felt things for him, so it wasn't an unexpected feeling to have." The alpha took a deep breath, "But you, Hoseok-ssi, you came into our lives loudly and all at once. I was so worried about a stranger in the house that I ignored the pull inside of me that told me you were meant to be with us."

Hoseok still felt a little bit dumbfounded, so he just let an eloquent, "Wow."

"Do you think that fate has made a mistake, Hoseok-ssi?" Namjoon asked, analyzing his reaction. "Do you feel nothing for us at all?"

"Of course I feel something," the orange fairy replied genuinely. "I just haven't really had much time to think about my attraction to the six of you and what to do about it. It makes sense, though, that we're packmates." Hoseok couldn't help but smile, "I've always wanted to find my pack, you know? I just didn't have my hopes up after a hundred years."

The shapeshifter's lips spread into a beautiful, relieved grin, accented by his deep dimples that Hoseok was now just seeing for the first time. He wished he had been warned about them. "I'm glad you feel the same way."

"How old are you all, by the way?" Hoseok questioned, realizing that besides Jungkook, their ages were still unknown to him. "If we're going to be a pack, I should know who I need to call hyung."

Namjoon chuckled, "Well, Seokjin-hyung is the oldest. He's four hundred fifty-six years old." The fairy couldn't help but widen his eyes at the shapeshifter's impressive age. "He and I were together first. About a decade after we got together, we met Yoongi-hyung and Jimin, who had also been together for a few years. Yoongi-hyung is the second oldest of us at three hundred forty-two years old. I'm one hundred twenty-five years old, the next oldest."

"Not anymore," Hoseok said cheekily, despite his still tired body. "I'm one hundred thirty-eight years old. So I'm older than you."

The alpha's lips twitched, "I suppose I should call you hyung, then. If you'll allow me."

"Of course you can," the fairy replied. "Who's the next oldest?"

"Jiminie is ninety-eight," he answered.

Hoseok smiled thinking about the pink fairy. He couldn't wait to get to know the other better. "What about Taehyung-ssi?"

Namjoon continued, "The four of us were together for about sixty years before we became acquainted with Taehyung about ten years ago. He's now sixty-seven years old. Then we met Jungkookie as a human about eight years ago." The smile fell from the shapeshifter's face a little. "I would gladly tell you everyone's life stories, but I feel like that's better coming from them personally."

Hoseok hummed and dipped his head in agreement.

"Might as well start with us two," Seokjin announced as he stepped back into the guest room. He'd changed his soaking wet shirt for a comfortable and dry baby pink sweater. He smiled again softly in Hoseok's direction as he fluffed his warm brown hair. "It was quite surprising when Joon and I came to the realization that you were our packmate. Not much takes us by surprise these days."

"Are you two the Ties?" the orange fairy asked.

Seokjin nodded before dropping himself unceremoniously into the alpha shapeshifter's lap. The other instinctively moved to hold the omega by the hips, stabilizing him. The fairy both admired and envied the natural movements.

"So, how did you two meet?" Hoseok inquired.

"Well, we were born in different villages. I was from the large were-pack here in Seoul," Namjoon began.

"I lived in the were-shifter village of Rosewood, a couple of hours east of here," Seokjin explained.

---

December 3420

Kim Seokjin had lived in Rosewood for three hundred seventy-four years before he decided he needed a change of scenery. The small village was rather secluded and they barely saw humans more than a few times a month. While the omega wasn't unhappy with his home in Rosewood, he had heard many exciting tales of the big city, where the were-shifters intermingled with the humans every day. He'd felt a pull towards Seoul for many years, but ignored it in favor of his comfortable life in Rosewood. Eventually, however, as years passed by, the pull became too strong to ignore any longer.

His family had been hesitant when he'd announced his plans, but their doubts didn't deter him in the slightest. He'd made up his mind. Rosewood wasn't far from Seoul anyway, so he promised to keep in touch with them and visit often. He gave them all one last kiss on the cheeks before he left with nothing more than a single suitcase carrying his most valuable belongings.

The hustle and bustle of the city were jarring, but the immediate sense of right he felt upon arriving in Seoul quelled any anxiety he had. Seokjin approached one of the counters at the train station, where he could see a shapeshifter sitting at a computer. The information counter, known as a Connecter, helped new shifters connect with the local were-pack.

Kim Minseok was matched with him as a guide to the new city as he'd been a village boy himself. He was about a hundred years older than Seokjin, and also an omega. He was kind and had a sweet smile. The man helped set him up with an apartment and a part-time job at a cafe.

Seokjin was pretty much completely used to the presence of humans all around him by the end of the first week. The crowds and the subways and the mingling of supernatural creatures and humans - all of it turned out to be exactly what Seokjin had needed in his life.

During the third week, while Seokjin was working a late shift at the cafe, his whole world changed. It was close to dark so the tables were empty and the omega was doing his cleaning duties while pausing every once in a while to assist a customer.

The tinkle of the bell above the front door alerted him to another one. He set down the cloth he had been using to dry off a few mugs and turned to greet the customer. "Hello, welcome to T's cafe, what can I get for-"

Seokjin cut himself off with a gasp as he locked eyes with the person walking up to the register. A young alpha shapeshifter - he could tell by the aura surrounding the man - was looking back at him with wide brown eyes. He had blond hair almost long enough to fall into his eyes and was dressed casually in fitted jeans and a graphic t-shirt.

"Oh!" the alpha exclaimed, a hand shooting up to rest over his heart. "Holy shit, my heart is gonna beat out of my chest! What the fuck?"

The laugh that tore from Seokjin's throat couldn't be stopped, giddy and amused. "I think - I think we're packmates," he managed out, a little lost in the awe he was feeling.

The man's already wide eyes somehow managed to open even further and his jaw dropped. "What - really? Is that what this feeling is?"

"I've never felt it before, but I've heard many stories about Ties meeting each other for the first time and this is exactly as it was described."

"I'm Namjoon!" the alpha announced excitedly. A big smile was taking over his face and showed off a set of adorable dimples. "You think that we're Ties?"

"Seokjin," the omega replied, "And yes, I do. Only Ties would feel such an obvious, strong connection to each other upon first meeting."

"Wow," Namjoon breathed in awe. "I honestly wasn't expecting to meet any of my packmates so soon. I mean, I'm only forty-three!"

The omega playfully winced, "You make me feel so old. I've got more than three hundred years on you."

"That's not that old, hyung."

"Yah, I was joking! Of course, I'm not old!"

Namjoon let out a wheezing laugh as Jin feigned anger, hands on his hips and all. "Well, it's nice to meet you, hyung," he greeted once he had gathered himself together.

"So," Seokjin began, "You're part of the Seoul were-pack, huh?"

"Mhm," the alpha nodded in confirmation. "You must be fairly new here, I haven't seen you around before."

"I'm from the Rosewood were-pack," the older man replied. "Felt like I needed a change of scenery. Although, I suppose it could have been fate nudging us closer together."

Namjoon couldn't be more obvious with the heart-eyes he was making towards the omega. "Perhaps it was. Fate is a mysterious thing."

"Fate is a mysterious thing," Seokjin repeated in agreement. The two of them jumped when the timer on one of the coffee pots went off, signaling that the brew was hot and ready (maybe Seokjin was too as he was so caught up in the man before him). "Oh, right! What can I get for you?"

The alpha blinked and looked around like he had just remembered that they were in a cafe as well. "Um, uh...a caramel macchiato please, hyung."

And who was Seokjin to say no to those wide, heart-melting eyes? (besides the fact that it was his job and he technically couldn't even if he wanted to).

"Of course," the omega replied, punching the order on the screen in front of him. "I can't give you a packmate discount, unfortunately."

"That's okay, I don't mind paying for it."

Seokjin almost let out a gasp when Namjoon pulled a black card out of his wallet. He'd never seen a black card in his life until he came to the city, and he knew the significance of them. Namjoon was rich, and Seokjin didn't almost gasp because he was a gold digger, but rather because of all the rich people the omega had encountered over the last few weeks, both human and not, Namjoon didn't present himself as such a person at all. The others had been so...proper, but the alpha was so casual and sweet.

The omega continued on like he hadn't seen the black card at all, taking his payment and going about the familiar motions of making a caramel macchiato. "So, do you work, Namjoon-ah? Or go to school?"

Namjoon nodded, "I'm in school right now for business. My parents want me to run a branch of their company in the future, but I kind of have an idea for my own business running through my head."

"Wow," Seokjin said in awe. "In my were-pack, we didn't really have "jobs" like the city folks here do. I have no idea what I want to do for a career, so that's awesome that you have such a bright future career ahead of you."

"The Rosewood were-pack is a traditional one, right?" Namjoon asked. "So everyone just contributes what they can and no one has to pay for anything, correct?"

The omega nodded, "Yeah, we're pretty primal. We prefer to hunt but we buy human food as well. So some of us are hunters, some of us are cooks, some of us are builders. Coming to Seoul, the number of possibilities of work is kind of overwhelming."

"What did you do in your were-pack?"

Seokjin popped the lid on the paper cup and slid it across the counter to the alpha who immediately went to take a sip of the drink and promptly burnt his tongue. The omega ran to fill another cup with cold water and came out from behind the counter to shove it into Namjoon's face. "You idiot, it's still scalding hot!" he reprimanded.

The alpha half-winced, half-smiled sheepishly as he accepted the cool water, "Sorry."

"To answer your question though, I cooked and baked mostly. Sometimes I'd babysit the pups or assist the healer in the rare occurrence they were needed."

"You did a bit of everything," Namjoon noted thoughtfully. "Did you feel passionate about any of those things?"

Seokjin nodded as he smiled shyly. "Baking. I love to experiment and create different sweets. And decorate them."

"I'd love to try your baking sometime!" the alpha exclaimed. "My mom always tells me that I should stay out of the kitchen for the safety of everyone, so homemade food isn't something I have a lot."

The older man chuckled, "Well, I would very much appreciate your feedback on all my food - baking and cooking."

The two of them were so giddy, feeling high on the emotions of meeting another packmate. Their grins were wide and cheesy and their cheeks were beginning to ache, but neither of them could care less at the moment.

Namjoon hesitated for only a moment before he reached over and took Seokjin's hand into his own, reveling in the warmth and softness. "I look forward to that."

---

September 8 3501, Present Day

Hoseok smiled as he listened to the story of Namjoon and Seokjin's first meeting. Ties undoubtedly had the most overwhelming meeting of anyone in a pack, and the two shapeshifters' were a perfect example of that.

"That's so sweet," the orange fairy said. He could feel his mind and body wearing out quickly, but he did his best to keep himself together. "What came of your business career, Namjoon-ah? And your baking passion, Seokjin-hyung?"

"Oh, Namjoon has become quite the businessman since then," Seokjin replied with a fond look in the alpha's direction.

Namjoon grinned, "I own the bakery Seokjin runs, as well as the magic shop Taehyung and Jimin run right beside it. The supernatural creatures like us enjoy the bakery, and the humans appreciate the magic shop."

"Wow," Hoseok said, a little breathless as he felt his body becoming more and more exhausted. "That's perfect for you guys."

"Hoseok-ah," Seokjin began hesitantly. "Once you're healed, we would love to have you stay with us, but we don't want to assume that you will just because you're our packmate."

While the fairy was touched by their thoughtfulness, he didn't exactly have anywhere else that he was eager to go. "If I'm healed, I would love to stay here. Aurora isn't exactly welcoming to me at the moment anyway."

The omega clapped his hands together and bounced excitedly in Namjoon's lap, who held his hips tighter to keep him from falling. "That would be awesome! I'm sure Taehyung and Jimin would love your help at the shop, or if you would prefer, you could work with me!"

Namjoon pulled the other back against him and kissed his cheek with a chuckle. "Calm down, hyung. Everything is still new, so let's focus on getting him healed before we talk more about the future."

Just as the alpha finished his sentence, Taehyung appeared in the doorway to the guest room. Hoseok was relieved to see another cup of that familiar blue-green concoction in his hands.

"Sorry to interrupt," Taehyung said, eyeing the three of them with a raised brow at what he'd heard but not saying anything more.

"That's okay, Tae," Seokjin assured. "We were just talking."

Taehyung nodded and moved closer to the bed to hand the orange fairy the cup of energy elixir. "You must be needing more of this, I'm sure."

Hoseok drank the minty-tasting potion eagerly, reveling in the small but immediate boost of strength it gave him. "Thank you," he said.

Taehyung smiled back at him and took a seat in the empty chair beside the one the two shapeshifters were still sharing. "Well, I came to let you know that I have a possible lead on someone who can help you, Hoseok-ssi. Though if I'm being honest, I'm not sure if it's anything promising."

"You found a witch up for the challenge?" Namjoon inquired.

"Not exactly..." Taehyung admitted. "I found someone who might have met a witch once that might be able to help. They agreed to meet me tomorrow in the city."

"Hmm," the alpha shapeshifter hummed thoughtfully. "Sounds kind of sketchy. You should take someone with you."

"Well, Jimin's in charge of the shop tomorrow, and Seokjin's got stuff at the bakery to deal with, so it's either you or Yoongi-hyung, Namjoon-hyung."

"I'll talk to Yoongi and see what he thinks," Namjoon replied.

Taehyung turned back to Hoseok and gave him a sheepish half-smile, half-grimace. "I really hope this lead works out, Hoseok-ssi. I'm really not sure how long that energy potion is going to help you."

Hoseok nodded in understanding. "We'll keep our fingers crossed."

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A/N: Sorry again that this chapter took so long to be posted. I do hope that you enjoyed some backstory though!

And thank you to everyone who left comments on this story, it always keeps me motivated to hear your feedback <3 Let me know if there is anything you'd like to see in future chapters (like certain pairings or plot points) and I'll do my best to incorporate them in.

Ages:

Seokjin - 455

Yoongi - 342

Hoseok - 138

Namjoon - 124

Jimin - 98

Taehyung - 66

Jungkook - 30

[oliviastan17]

Just a dream (6/7)

Warnings: this is really fluffy, I wouldn’t call it smut but it’s more than a mention of sex, pregnancy and childbirth (nothing graphic), language, 18+

Length: 3.7k

A/N: Part 7 is coming but I think it’s the last one because I haven’t had a dream continuing this series in a while. I’m working on writing out a one shot dream I had though so look for that. And I never know, that one shot could turn into another series. DO NOT POST ON ANY OTHER WEBSITE! Reblog and leave comments and all that good stuff!

———–

You were 35 weeks pregnant now. Your mom had called saying that she decided she wanted to throw you a baby shower. She was always doing things last minute and if she had called one week later you wouldn’t have been able to fly out there. You hadn’t seen a lot of your family in a while. Your brother had flown out once with his kids and your mom. You and Sebastian had gone back for Harper’s birthday. You were really looking forward to going home.

Your flight got in late so you and Sebastian went straight to the hotel. While you got in the shower he ordered room service so it was waiting for you when you got out.

“You are the best. Seriously, what did I do to deserve you?” you asked while climbing awkwardly onto the bed. It was getting difficult to move.

He just smiled and brought you a plate with a cover still on top as you leaned back on the headboard. You placed a pillow on your lap and the plate on top of it. He kissed you before turning back to grab another plate. You took the top off the one in your lap and you froze.

“Um…this isn’t what I was expecting,” you said darting your eyes to look at Sebastian who was walking back towards you.

He smiled as he kneeled by the side of the bed and reached for the ring box that was where you expected to see your dinner.

“You know, I’ve wanted to do this for a while but I wanted to wait until we’d be around your family. I know your mom was bummed when she couldn’t hug you and celebrate when we told her about the baby,” he said taking your hand. “Y/n, I love you with every ounce of my being. Nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my life showing you how much I love you. Will you marry me?” he asked opening the box.

You were too busy staring in his eyes to even look at the ring.

“Oh, babe! Of course I will!” you said smiling and leaning in to grab his chin and pulled his lips up to yours.

After he put the ring on your finger you grabbed his face and brought it to yours to kiss him over and over. As he hugged you, you brought your hand up to look at the ring on your finger.

“Holy shit!”

He pulled away and saw you looking at the ring. It was a princess cut diamond (2 carats at least) with small diamonds around the band. It was beautiful.

“You did good!”

“I know,” he said smiling at you.

You were talking about the ring. He was talking about you.

“I love you so much,” you said as you held his face in your hands.

“I love you too,” he said and then you pulled him in for a kiss.

It was a passionate kiss. Neither of you could help it. There was too much love flowing through both of you.

Sex while you were this pregnant was a bit of a challenge but not impossible. You started off doggy style but the weight of your stomach hanging down was hurting your back. Missionary also put too much strain on your back. You tried laying on your sides facing each other but your stomach got in the way. Laying on your sides with your back to his front was working. You could still turn your head to kiss him and he would bring his arm around you to grab your breasts and then to rub your clit.

You didn’t feel the need to have the best sex ever. You just wanted to be close to the man you loved. He, however, refused to leave you unsatisfied so he worked his magic and you were soon clenching around him as you came.

The next day was the baby shower that quickly morphed into a baby shower/engagement party. Seeing as your dad was not in the picture Sebastian had called your mom and brother to let them know his plan before you had even left New York. He knew you felt the asking for permission thing was outdated. He needed your and only your permission to marry you and that was all. Your mom was thrilled, made all the party arrangements and made sure all your closest friends were there. Your friends and family got you so much stuff you were going to have to mail it all back to New York.

It was a short trip but it was a great trip. You were sitting in the first class lounge at the airport waiting for your plane and looking at the pictures you had posted on your private Instagram when you got a call from Chris.

“I had to find out you’re engaged from your Instagram?!”

“I thought Seb would have told you! You talk to him more.”

“Yeah, but I’ve known you longer. You’re like the sister I never wanted.”

“Don’t you have a sister?”

“Whatever. I am prepared to perform the ceremony whenever it is. How’s little baby Chris?”

“His name is not Chris.”

“What is it?”

“He doesn’t have one. Nothing goes with Stan.”

“I’ll think about it and text you some suggestions.”

“Please don’t. Even if I like it I wouldn’t choose a name you suggested just out of principle.”

Over the loud speaker you hear they are beginning boarding for your flight.

“I would love to continue this conversation but I’ve got to go. They’re boarding my flight.”

“Alright, I’m coming to NYC soon so I’ll see you soon. Maybe 3 weeks or so.”

“Alright, see ya.”

Chris got you thinking about how you didn’t have a name picked out so that’s what you did on the plane.

 “I think it has to be 3 syllables. That’s why Sebastian works.”

You pulled up a website that had 3 syllable boy names and went through the list.

“Found it. Blueberry.”

“That can’t be on the list,” he said in disbelief. Then you showed him your phone.

“I’m gonna say no,“ he said.

You spent the entire flight tossing around names but were not able to agree on one you both liked. You wanted to pull the ‘I’m carrying him so I get to name him’ card but you actually liked that he cared so much. He was very much involved during the pregnancy and read all the books he could. It was very sweet. You weren’t wrong. He was going to be a great dad.

 —————

One month later you were absolutely over the magic of it all. Your back was hurting, you were peeing every single hour and you could barely stand up from a sitting position.

“Please get out of me,” you said looking down and talking to your baby. “Does this make me a bad person?” you asked Sebastian.

“No, I’d probably be saying the same thing,” he said pulling you in for a hug. It was a side hug because your belly was too big.

“Will you please tell him to get out?”

“It’s only 1 more week. Hang in there for 1 more week.”

“Ugh, if I have to,” you said dramatically rolling your eyes and walking into your bedroom.

“I love you.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

When you went to bed that night you were sound asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Growing a human was no joke. A pain woke you up in the middle of the night and Sebastian woke up to see you sitting up and taking some deep breaths.

“Oh my god, is it time? Are you okay?”

You didn’t respond until the pain had passed.

“No, it’s just Braxton Hicks contractions. I’ve been having them since yesterday. They stop after a while. Go back to sleep.”

You both lay back down and he rested his hand on your stomach gently drawing imaginary shapes with his fingers. You felt the pain again 7 minutes later. And another 7 minutes after that. You gave up on sleep at that point and got up and went to the living room to watch some TV. You were flipping through the guide when Sebastian came in to join you.

“Ugh, really?” he asked when he saw what show you started to watch.

“It’s my guilty pleasure. Deal with it.”

He sat down on the couch pulled your feet onto his lap and massaged them as 90 Day Fiancé started. It was a show about Americans applying for a K-1 visa to bring their fiancé over from other countries who then had 90 days to marry or be sent back to their country. Some of the foreigners were only in it for the green card and some were in it for love and it was fun to guess which was which. The show fascinated you. But it had caused a small argument between you and Sebastian.

Flashback

“You’re telling me that if I still lived in Romania and we met there, you wouldn’t bring me here on a K-1 visa?”

“If I’m being honest, probably not.”

“That’s messed up.”

“If you lived here and I lived in Romania would you bring me here?”

“Yes! Without a question!”

“That’s insane! These people barely know each other and they have to get married. Most of them have only physically spent less than a month together.”

“How well would you have to know me to bring me here?”

“I don’t know. I feel like we would have to physically be together for at least 6 months before I would think about it.”

“Six months? I would have brought you over here after our first night together!”

“If I brought you over here I would be financially responsible for you and I would be fucked if you screwed me over.”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“I know you wouldn’t. Why are you so upset? This is a hypothetical situation. We are together.”

“You’re too practical! Can’t it just be about the love?”

This went on for an hour.

“These two are never going to work,” you said talking about the couple on the TV.

You had a contraction again and noted the time telling Sebastian to write it down. Two hours later they were 5-6 minutes apart and not stopping when you started walking around the apartment. You realized these weren’t Braxton Hicks but it was still a little early to go to the hospital. You wanted to labor at home for as long as you could.

“Do you have your bag packed for when you are ready to go?” he asked.

“Shit, I was going to do that today but I was too tired,” you said walking into your bedroom.

You packed, taking a break with each contraction. Sebastian was helping you when you stopped and placed your hands on the bathroom counter, gripping it tight.

“Ah, fuck!” you said through your breathing as Sebastian rubbed your back. He felt absolutely helpless. There was nothing he could do to take the pain away but he desperately wanted to.

A few hours later the contractions were getting even stronger and were now 4 minutes apart.

“Okay, it’s time to go,” you said. He had wanted to go an hour ago but you were being your stubborn self so he didn’t push it because he knew he couldn’t change your mind.

You were walking into your room to change out of your pajamas while he was calling the hospital to let them know you were on your way. All of the sudden he heard you yell, “Mother fucker!”

He dropped his phone and ran into the bedroom to find you looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

“What?”

You looked at him and pointed to the floor. He looked down and saw that your water had broken. Everywhere. Thank god they were wood floors.

“I was really hoping if my water broke it would be a slow leak and not a waterfall,” you said laughing and beginning to walk to your closet to change your clothes.

He just smiled, grabbed your arm so you turned around and held your face in his hands. “I love you.”

You pulled him for a hug and a kiss. “I really, really love you.”

After arriving at the hospital they confirmed that you were in labor and actually already 5 cm dilated. Once in a room and in a gown you were hooked up to the fetal monitor and checked out by the woman who was going to be your nurse.

“Do you need anything hun?”

“Drugs. I want all the drugs,” you replied.

“Absolutely!” she said laughing. “I think anesthesia is just down the hall so I’ll let them know you’re ready for an epidural. You need anything, Dad?”

Sebastian was slowly pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets entertaining weird thoughts in his head to help keep him calm and didn’t hear anything.

“I don’t think he’s answering to Dad just yet,” you smiled. “Seb!”

“Mmh?” he said turning around.

“If you need anything the nurse’s station is just out the door and to your left,” the nurse said.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he said while rubbing the whiskers on his chin.

She left and soon after the anesthesiologist came in and administered your epidural. Once it started to work you were able to take a nap thankfully. You had barely slept and been up since 2am. It was now 9am. You weren’t sure but Sebastian may have dozed off on the couch that was there for that exact purpose.

Your nurse came in to check your progress every hour or so. At 2pm she informed you that you were fully dilated and it was time to start pushing.

“Oh god,” you said as you realized this was it. You were about to see your son for the first time.

“You can do this. You are amazing and I love you so much,” Sebastian said encouraging you.

For the first 30 minutes it was just you, Sebastian, and your amazing nurse. Every time there was a contraction you pushed as hard as you could while the nurse counted to 10. You would take a breath and push again as long as the contraction lasted. You didn’t know how anyone did this without an epidural. Sebastian was holding your hand and holding one leg up while saying sweet and comforting things so you felt really bad about what came out of your mouth.

“Oh my god, Seb shut up. Seriously just shut the fuck up!” you said mid push.

Once that contraction and push were over you said, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I just need you to not talk when I’m pushing. All I want to hear is the counting. I’m sorry! I love you.”

“It’s okay. Just tell me what you need,” he said so calmly while he brushed a piece of hair out of your face which made you feel even worse for the way you talked to him and then he kissed your temple.

Once you had made enough progress more nurses came in with your doctor and an infant warmer. It was really time.

“You ready to have a baby?” your doctor cheerfully asked.

“I guess it’s too late to change my mind.”

“I would say so!” she said laughing while putting on gloves and a gown, then sitting on a chair and getting a view that only Sebastian had ever seen.

After the first push and everyone in the room saying encouraging things you looked at Sebastian with an annoyed expression so he spoke up and said, “She only wants to hear the counting when she’s pushing.”

You mouthed ‘thank you’ to him.

After 5 minutes of pushing your doctor said, “Okay, you are doing great Y/n! I can see the head! Sebastian, do you want to see?”

As Sebastian looked he kept your hand in his and then looked back at you and said, “Oh my god, he has so much hair!”

“One more push Y/n and he’ll be out okay?” your doctor said.

You nodded and looked at Sebastian.

“Okay push! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and here he is!” she said as she placed your baby on the blanket a nurse had placed on your chest while she wrapped the blanket around him and began to clean him off a little. The doctor instructed Sebastian on where to cut the umbilical cord and he did.

Then you heard his cry for the first time. He was here. Finally. He was beautiful. It was all worth it. The pain, the discomfort, the constant peeing, the lack of sleep. You would do it all again just to relive the moment of seeing him for the first time.

Sebastian brought his hand up to cradle his son’s head. He had no words. He just had tears falling down his face and a deep love filling his heart. He put his arm around you and brought his temple next to yours as you both looked at the precious baby you two had created together.

After a minute or two the baby nurse took your son over to the infant warmer to weigh him and get him cleaned up.

“Go with him,” you told Sebastian even though it was only 6 feet away from where you were. Sebastian only took about a 100 pictures. Once they had cleaned him and swaddled him up, Sebastian got to hold him for the first time. He thought his heart was going to explode. Between his love for you and for his son he was sure his heart wasn’t big enough to handle it.

When your doctor was done taking care of you Sebastian walked over to you and placed your son in your arms. You brought your hand up to pull Sebastian in for kiss and told him you loved him. You both stared at your son who was wiggling in your arms. He was the living proof of your and Sebastian’s love.

“Congratulations! You did great! Do you have a name for him yet?” your doctor asked you.

“Maverick,” Sebastian replied never once breaking his gaze from his baby.

“Are you a Maverick? Do you like that name? I hope you do cause we couldn’t think of anything else,” you laughed and your son responded with a smile in his sleep.

 ————

Once you were transferred to the postpartum unit the adrenaline of the day wore off and you were just exhausted. The epidural was wearing off so you were in pain as well. Your nurse gave you the pain medication your doctor had prescribed and that made you fall asleep fast. When you woke up Sebastian was sitting in the rocking chair in the room with his shirt off and was asleep holding Maverick against his chest with a blanket covering them. Your nurse had made a point to tell Sebastian that skin to skin contact is not just for mom and baby but that it’s important for him to do it too because it helps with bonding.  Your heart just about exploded with the love you felt looking at the boys in your life who completely owned your heart. You took a picture so you could remember this moment forever.

Maverick woke up and started crying so Sebastian placed him in your arms and you began breastfeeding him. It truly was a blessing that you had no problem breastfeeding. Maverick latched on perfectly.

You FaceTimed with your mom but you couldn’t be positive she could see anything through her tears so you sent her a ton of pictures and videos.

 Sebastian’s mom came to see her first grandchild. She was so happy and gave you about 7 hugs throughout her visit. On her way out she whispered something in Romanian to Sebastian that he later translated.

“She said I did good. That I picked a good woman and made a beautiful son. She’s proud of me.”

Chris came next.

“I come bearing gifts!” he said handing Sebastian a bag. “Where is he? What’d you name him? Can I hold him?”

“This is Maverick. You can hold him but support his head,” you said handing Maverick over to him.

“Hey little guy! I’m your Uncle Chris! Oh my god he is so cute! Middle name Chris?”

You shook your head no. He still didn’t have a middle name yet.

“Really?” Sebastian asked after opening Chris’s gift. He held up a onsie with a picture of Chris as Captain America and underneath it said “My uncle is the shit!”

“What? It’s the truth!” Chris said.

You just laughed. You actually really liked it. Chris stayed for an hour or so and left so you could breastfeed. You were officially done with visitors. Now you focused on bonding as a family of 3.

After one more day in the hospital you and Maverick were cleared to go home. It took you 10 minutes to teach Sebastian how to strap the car seat in the back of the cab you were taking home. The cab driver was so sweet and patient, never complaining and not even starting the meter as you made sure the car seat was secure.

Once home you were breastfeeding Maverick in your bed and Sebastian sat next to you. He loved watching you feed your son. When Maverick was done eating Sebastian changed his diaper and then placed him in the bassinet you had set up next to your bed. You both stood there just watching him sleep. Sebastian put his arms around you and kissed the top of your head you were resting against his chest.

He was an amazing father. There was no arguing over who got up in the middle of the night to feed or change Maverick’s diaper. He always got up, even if it was just to bring Maverick to you to breastfeed. You were also pumping your breast milk so that Sebastian would be able to feed Maverick which he wished he could do all the time.

Two days after you had gotten home, you had gotten out of the shower and walked into your bedroom to find Sebastian asleep with Maverick asleep on his chest. It was a precious sight. Your own father was in and out of your life when you were a kid and never showed any affection. Now you hadn’t seen him in over 10 years. You knew Maverick would never have to deal with that and that made you so grateful Sebastian was his father. You couldn’t decide who was luckier; you or your son. 

Next Chapter

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[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

Fic: stabbed

This is a fill for the Whumptober 2019 day 8 prompt: stabbed!

yes, i’m still doing this! it’s been AGES since i last wrote and i’m more than a bit rusty, so i’m trying to ease my way back with some good old straightforward h/c :)

Summary: Set after the flashback in 2.04. Dick’s first mission in Gotham after the Titans disbanded doesn’t go well. At all. 

WARNINGS: SPOILERS for Titans s2, especially 2.04. Some swearing. Moderately graphic descriptions of a serious injury. Passive suicidal thoughts. Not really much comfort to be had here--Dick’s spiralling, and he will continue to spiral (in the show’s timeline) for many years to come.

stabbed

“Robin. Status report.”

For godssake, B, Dick wants to snap, it’s just the two of us working this job. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m your soldier. The words crowd against his teeth, pushed there by a now-familiar swell of resentment in his chest. Instead, what comes out is: “Everyone’s been rounded up and handed over to the cops on my side. I’ve passed on the coordinates and date of the next big meeting with their boss.”

There’s a brief pause on the other side of the communicator. “Next meeting?” Bruce says, with the same sort of delicate scepticism that he might employ when Dick’s reaching for his third slice of butter sponge cake at the dinner table.

Dick grits his teeth. “Maroni got away this time,” he admits.

“I see.” There’s a snap and a click, and the distinct low hum of the Batmobile powering up. “I expect a full report at the Cave this morning.”

“I’m—” Dick shifts, swallows a gasp.

“… do you need me to pick you up?”

Dick looks down at the blade stuck in his gut and the blood seeping through between the armour plates of his costume, and thinks about it. He definitely needs medical attention but the thought of going back to the Cave, to sit there alone at the centre of its yawning blackness to convalesce, stewing in the ways he had failed—well. Dick can’t even stand the thought of it.

“I’m good,” he says. “Catch up with you soon.” With that, he turns off his communicator before Bruce can reply.

It’s like a string that’s been holding him upright has been cut. He slumps back against the grimy alley wall, breath stuttering with every inhale. The mesh of his uniform and the armour plates are doing a good job in securing the blade and to prevent, well, torrential bleeding, but that’s not going to hold if he starts moving. But if he doesn’t move and get some goddamned help, he’s going to bleed out anyway. He’s fucked unless he can get help to come to him, which—

which—

(we’re over, dick.)

No. No. This is fine. Things could’ve been worse—he could’ve been shot, which could’ve caused a perforating injury instead of merely a penetrating one, more tissue damage, and a greater chance of infection. Given the angle and position of the blade, it likely didn’t hit his liver or his pancreas, which means fewer chances of imminent death-by-exsanguination or auto-digestion. That the knife was able to penetrate him at all through the miniscule gaps in his armour must mean the blade is very fine and thin, so if he can just keep it in place long enough for him to seek help, he might be able to prevent the one complication with the power to kill him: infection.

So, you know. Bar a contrast-CT scan or two, Dick is very optimistic about his chances. He might as well get a headstart on writing that report for Bruce in his head:

In my first mission after losing a close friend and losing my team, I managed to lose a straightforward fight, lose the crime boss I could’ve normally captured in my sleep, and I’m probably going to lose a little bit of my intestine and shit in a bag for a little bit. Just an all-round loser losing things.

Very punchy, off-puttingly whiny, and utterly unprofessional. Bruce would absolutely hate it, but at least it would be something other than the vaguely disapproving looks he’s been giving Dick ever since he crawled back to Gotham like a pathetic thing.

Taking as deep a breath as he dares and securing the blade in his abdomen with one hand, he grabs the lip of a nearby dumpster with the other and begins to pull himself upright. Every inch of movement is like being stabbed all over again—an icy, electric pain that shoots up into his chest and squeezes his lungs. The pain makes his breathing progressively fast and shallow, which just worsens the pain, and by the time he’s able to extricate his mind out of that vicious cycle he’s sprawled on the ground again and the knife in his gut is smearing his blood on concrete approximately a foot away from him.

Well, fuck.

Dick thinks briefly, giddily, about putting the knife back in to plug the hole in his gut, wastes a few more precious moments berating himself for even thinking that, then removes his communicator from his belt. His fingers leave bloody, webbed smears all over the keypad and the screen wavers in and out of focus; he squints and pants and steadily scrolls past his long list of contacts.

To call any of the Lanterns or Superman would mean the Justice League would know about this, and that would mean Bruce would know about this. The Titans… well, clearly they’re out of the picture. (Donna would probably come and help him if he asks but the thought of facing her after letting her down so spectacularly feels like someone’s flaying the inside of his chest.) Roy can’t possibly make it on time.

That only really leaves Wally. He’s another bridge Dick’s managed to burn, but maybe—just maybe—

This number has been deactivated.

Oh, Dick thinks. His mouth feels dry and slimy, and blood trickles steadily around his now-slack fingers covering his wound. I didn’t know that. He can’t remember the last time he actually called Wally (or Wally called him), when he last remembered to properly sync his communicator with the Batcave and JL servers, can’t remember the last time he remembered to do things other than breathe through the ball of guilt and stress that had taken residence in his chest and smile and fight and eat and wake up the next morning to do it all over again.

Dick presses his forehead to the crook of his elbow, takes a shaky breath, feeling suddenly, soulcrushingly alone.

Minutes pass like hours, and more of Dick seeps out over Gotham pavement, his blood black in the moonlight. His heart is pounding in his chest, his head is gripped in a vise of pain, and he barely has the energy to keep pressure on the hole in his gut. Nausea crashes into him in waves, and at some point, he does throw up bloody bile, his throat burning, his guts feeling like they’re being stirred with a white-hot poker.

He still doesn’t call Bruce.

It’s… it’s probably not a terrible idea to fade away right here. He’s fucked up so much, much more than he’d ever realised, fucked up in ways that seem irreversible, and if his punishment for that is to die, alone and cold, in a dirty Gotham alleyway, then so be it.

so you’re going to roll over and give up. i thought i taught you better than that.

The familiar voice drags a chuckle from Dick. His eyes are open to slits at this point and what he can see is blurry, but he can just about make out Bruce, dressed impeccably in a suit, bending and peering at Dick like he’s a particularly interesting piece of roadkill. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” Dick rasps.

you summon me for a personal crisis at least every other month. Bruce grins sharply. i wouldn’t have wanted to miss this doozy, would i?

“Nothin’ much you can do,” Dick slurs.

that’s true, Bruce agrees. but i wouldn’t be here if some long-suffering survival instinct in that brain of yours isn’t throwing a hail mary so that you don’t kill yourself.

“You’ve never been the reason I’ve tried to stay alive,” Dick says.

oh, good, Bruce says. then what’s the reason? the glorified friends’ club you called a team? the memories of all the people you’ve gotten killed? or maybe the so-called friends who are still alive, when you can’t even bring yourself to even bother to keep in touch with them?

“I—” Dick blinks, long and slow. When he opens his eyes, Bruce is gone. “I don’t know,” he says.

He blinks again, and when he opens his eyes this time, it’s daylight, he’s lying on something warm and soft, and the pain in his gut isn’t nearly as sharp. He can hear a faint, steady beeping. He stares at the ceiling for a long moment before looking to his side and meeting Bruce’s steady gaze.

“You’re in Gotham General,” Bruce says. “It’s been two days since I found you, nearly dead, just off the docks. It’s really unfortunate,” he picks delicately at his sleeve cuff, “that you were mugged like that.”

Location, time, cover story—Bruce is nothing if not efficient and to-the-point. Usually Dick strives to match that discipline with his own, but his thoughts are too scattered, his chest too hollow, to really try. He just grunts in response.

Bruce frowns and leans forward. “You were bleeding out for hours and you didn’t try to call anybody for help—in fact, you lied to me about being injured at all. This is beyond being irresponsible, Dick—this is outright reckless.” He pauses. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

Dick thinks he knows the response to this. It’s not usually difficult to get out, even when he’s injured like this. But there’s something devastating about going to sleep thinking you’ve lost everything you’ve ever had to lose, and waking up to find that you were wrong about that last part.

i thought i taught you better than that.

Dick’s eyes burn, and tears drip steadily into his hair.

Bruce looks stricken, just for a moment—he reaches out, touches Dick’s hair—says, “Dickie,” like Dick’s twelve years old again and desperately, shatteringly alone and Bruce is still visibly trying—

He gets up, a little abruptly. When he speaks, it isn’t with the Batman growl, but with the mildest quaver, something that goes well with his rapidly-greying hair and deep lines bracketing his eyes. “I’ll go fetch Alfred—I’ll let him know you’re awake.” With that, he leaves the room.

Dick closes his eyes.