#try persuade me all you want that that isn’t a ponytail

[acidic-chestnuts]

discovered the diaboys' beta designs the other week, and felt weak at the knees when i noticed ayato used to have a ponytail lol.

made this wee sketch last week and forgot to post, 😔apologies

[autumntouched]

Okay I couldn't stop thinking about this, but as someone who's spent all 14 years of my education pre-uni in a very regimented/tough school, it can be hard to let go of certain habits or just going with the flow. And it got me thinking about how Phoenix might suffer with the same thing. Being a pilot in the Navy means she's always operating at a certain standard, and even during leave, it's hard to fully relax. It's not that she doesn't want to, but getting used to living a certain way and then breaking out of that routine can be hard! She's glad to have her hair down (literally and metaphorically lol), though, and will try to make the best out of it.

Sorry to post this so late! Here we go with Day 2 of Ode to Phoenix:

For you @coraphoenix

My thoughts on Phoenix are at the end!! Hope this is what you were looking for. xx

Time to Let Go

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Summary: Natasha struggles to go with the flow during her cousin's bachelorette weekend.

Natasha has always lived by lists. They keep details organized, goals on track, life in order, and pilots alive. She has fun lists of the things she wants to try, the places she wants to visit. She has banal lists of the chores and errands she needs to do. She has lists she doesn’t like to think about like the one her mom will receive if she were to die in the line of duty. Then there are the checklists she goes through each time she flies. Lists limit the unpredictable, the unexpected, the unforced error. 

And with lists come schedules. Schedules make sure the lists get done, everything completed and delivered on time. 

But lists and schedules are not exactly what her cousin, Dani, is thinking about a bottomless brunch of mimosas and bellinis in during her bachelorette weekend. Natasha has tried several times to persuade her cousin to hurry up, but her efforts have only earned her pouts from Dani and dirty looks from the other bridesmaids. 

Waiting in the living room of their airbnb, Natasha checks her watch for the fifth time. They are not going to make it to their pole dancing class on time when nearly everyone is still getting ready. How long does it take to match a top and leggings? She struggles not to pace out her impatience and opens her phone to triple check the time on the confirmation. Yep, she has it right. They’re going to be late. 

“You may as well stop worrying and just accept we’re not going to be on time for anything,” Gabby sighs. “I’m sure these places are used to it.” Her sister lounges with her legs over the arm of a chair, scrolling through the pictures she took at brunch. Natasha’s still getting used to Gabby being blonde, but the color looks good on her. Without the blonde, they would look like twins right now. Her younger sister took one look at Natasha’s black sports bra and dri-fit shorts for the afternoon and let out a long-suffering groan. “This isn’t the Navy, Sash. You’re supposed to look hot for this.” 

Which is how she ended up in makeup and a matching cornflower blue leggings and tank set. The top dramatically lifts her and plumps her modest breasts into almost a whole other cup size. Natasha has never shown so much chest in clothes meant for working out, and she can only imagine the looks she’d get if she strolled into a military gym wearing this outfit. And she really doesn’t want to imagine what some of her friends would have to say about it in the Dagger Squad group chat if they saw. 

Gabby also took offense to her low ponytail so now she’s wearing her hair down with the front braided back. The braids are the only concession to Natasha not wanting her hair in her face. Otherwise she’d be looking more ready for a runway than a dance class. 

She checks her watch again, and Gabby throws down her phone. “That’s it! Take it off!” 

“Take what off?” 

Gabby flings herself out the chair and marches over. Her glare is even more formidable than their mother’s, and Natasha shrinks like she’s about to get in trouble. “Your watch,” Gabby demands, holding out her hand.

“But I need–.”

Her sister cuts her off. “What you need is to calm the fuck down and enjoy the weekend! We’re here to have fun, not worry about what’s next on the schedule or what time we’re getting there.” 

Natasha cradles her watch protectively. “Okay, fine. But I’m keeping my watch.” 

Gabby shakes her head. “Too late. Give it to me.” Her voice doesn’t leave much room for argument except that Natasha is older. 

“No.”

Her sister thrusts her face in front of Natasha’s, her perfectly plucked and filled brows drawn into a scowl. “Give me the watch, Natasha, and I’ll have everyone out the door in less than ten minutes.” 

She considers that. Gabby can be a force to be reckoned with when she’s on a mission, and the other women have warmed up to her far more than they have Natasha. When she mentioned it to Dani the night before, her cousin just laughed and told her that they thought she was intimidating. “I mean, what do you expect, Nasha? You’re a pilot,” she’d said, as if that explained everything. Although Dani didn’t mean it to, that stung. Natasha usually has no trouble getting along with people and being a pilot is just her job. 

“Fine. If we’re in an uber in the next ten minutes, you can have it.” She’ll still have her phone at least. Or will Gabby try to confiscate that too?

Gabby narrows her eyes, determining whether she can push Natasha harder to turn it over before. Natasha glares back, and her sister straightens. “Deal.” She turns on her heel and practically skips from the room. 

They’re in cars in less than ten minutes, and she has to surrender her watch. “When do I get it back?” she hesitates. 

“Don’t forget to ask me for it before we leave for the airport. I’ll send it to you if I forget.” 

Natasha sighs and lets it drop into her sister’s hand. Gabby carefully stores it in the monogrammed bag Dani gave each of them for the weekend. “I promise, letting your hair down a little might hurt, but it’s not going to kill you.” 

They’re half an hour late to the class, but the instructor, Clare, seems unfazed. She puts on a pop playlist and doesn’t bat an eye when they stop to take a series of group pictures in front of the wall with the studio’s name in neon lights surrounded by ivy and flowers. Natasha’s grateful that Gabby made her switch outfits so that she blends in with everyone else, and especially when Dani squeals excitedly about how much she loves the pictures. 

Clare starts the class by showing them the full choreography and then walks them through a few of the moves. She lets the women stop to take individual photos of themselves posing on the poles before they get too sweaty. 

Natasha spends the time putting together what they’ve learned so far. Everyone else is sticking to the easier, modified versions, but she tries out doing the actual moves. She comes out of a spin to find Clare watching her thoughtfully. 

“You said this is your first time right? Are you a dancer? You’re getting the hang of this pretty fast.” 

“Not since high school,” Natasha smiles. “Also, sorry, we were so late.”

Clare laughs and waves her hand. “Happens all the time. Most people get tired after forty five minutes to an hour anyway. It’s harder than it looks, although you could probably get to a couple of intermediate moves. Your arm and core strength are really good. I leave some time at the end for everyone to record themselves doing the choreography. I can show you something then if you want.” 

“That’d be fun,” she agrees. The instructor gives her a thumbs up and goes to correct someone else’s grip. She looks at her wrist before remembering her watch is gone. 

“I saw that, Sash!” Gabby calls mid spin. Natasha gives her the finger and hops back on her pole. 

As promised, Clare comes over after they’ve finished learning the choreography. “Can you do a handstand?” she checks. 

Without hesitation, Natasha flips herself onto her hands, legs straight in the air. “Like this?” Back when Gabby did cheerleading, the two of them had handstand competitions to see who could stay up the longest. When she started Naval aviation training, she’d do them before going up to help with her spatial reorientation. She was one of the few pilots who didn’t get sick during their first training flights. 

Clare claps and grabs the pole as Natasha springs back onto her feet. “Exactly like that. Want to try an invert?” 

It takes Natasha a little longer and some help to manage the inverted crucifix Clare shows her but as soon as she does, Gabby demands to try it. “Wait, me too!” insists Dani who did cheer squad with Gabby. After all the alcohol Dani had at brunch, Natasha is mildly impressed she doesn’t get sick flipping herself upside down. 

“Okay, okay! Do it together,” Kelsey, Dani’s best friend and maid of honor, insists. “I want to record it.” The cousins line up at their poles and wait for Kelsey to find the best angle. “Okay. Got it. On the count of three. Go on three!” 

Dani throws out her arms. “No, hold on. Let’s do a practice run.” She’s right. It takes a few tries for her, Natasha, and Gabby to synchronize their timing. By the time they do, all of Dani’s bridesmaids have gathered around to cheer them on and take their own pictures. 

“All right, ready!” Gabby calls. 

Kelsey counts them down, and Natasha grips the pole, pulling then pushing her legs up and over her head. They hold the upside down position then dismount one after the other. Feeling surprisingly accomplished, Natasha adjusts her top when her feet are back on the ground. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Kelsey yelps, playing back the video for everyone to see. 

Clare congratulates them on their class. “We did run a little over ladies, so quickly as you can, please make sure you have everything and make your way out to the lobby so we can set up for our next class. Thank you so much for coming today, and I hope you had as much fun as I did! Congratulations again to our beautiful bride, Dani, and give all of yourselves a round of applause and high fives.”

Kelsey and Libby rush up to Natasha to high five her. “Oh my gosh, I got the cutest picture of you!” Libby gushes. “Here let me send it!” 

“And let me send you all the ones I took!” Kelsey adds. 

Gabby gives her a significant look as she wraps her hair on top of her head, and Natasha falls back to walk with her. “See how much fun you can have when you’re not worrying about whether we're on schedule?” 

“Yes okay. You were right. I survived. May I have my watch back?” Natasha sighs on their way down the stairs to the street. 

Her sister looks over her shoulder with a dangerously sly look. “If you send a picture of yourself in this outfit to Hangman, you can have your watch back.” 

Natasha nearly misses a step and flails for the railing. “What!” 

“You heard me,” Gabby sing songs. 

“No!”

“No picture, no watch.” 

Natasha resigns herself to relying on her phone. And maybe trying to enjoy letting her hair down a little.

A/N: This one was a little tough because while what you describe is me to a T, it's not quite how I've imagined Phoenix. I can totally see it though!

My thoughts on Phoenix:

Growing up, I definitely knew plenty of people who brought their military discipline home, but there were also a lot of people like my dad who didn't. It had less to do with how the military shaped you and more to do with the kind of person you were going in, especially in the Navy. Some of the most fun, child-at-heart adults I've ever met have been in the military, and Phoenix reminds me of them in the way that she lets loose singing along to "Great Balls of Fire" and the sense of humor with which she handles Hangman's trolling. She and Hangman are also the two most openly impressed and amused by Maverick stealing a plane and sticking it to Cyclone, so they have a healthy distance from the military's rigidity. She's serious and focused when she needs to be, but she can let that go when she's off duty.

I feel like the media often portrays people in the military as intense, serious, and regimented in their personal lives so one of the things that I love about Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick is that they have fun when they're off duty (and occasionally on the job too.)

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

On This Day

(Scrapbooked memories from my underworld journey and beyond)

April 4, 2010:

🎶“morning has broken, like the first morning. blackbird has spoken, like the first bird. praise for the singing, praise for the morning. praise for the springing fresh from the word...”🎶

April 4, 2012:

this april is so full of magesty. it's only the 4th, and i've already lost count of the number of ways it has taken my breath away.

April 4, 2015:

Free citizens of the United States of America should not have to beg for our rights. We must expect legislators to stand up for our rights and back down from their threats of medical tyranny. SB 277 is an outrageous, extreme act of oppression against a free people.

April 4, 2018:

No Contact is removing your choking hands from your own throat. If someone offered me a million dollars to be in that relationship (or anything like it) again, I wouldn’t take it. This is the relief that No Contact and codependency recovery offer in time. I still believe she is a dear person with a good heart; I still miss her companionship, especially during times when I can't connect with friends; I still cry every time I talk about her if you let me talk deeply enough to reach the trauma I'm still releasing. But nothing could persuade me to go back into the hellhole of being in relationship with a person with complex mental illness and signs of personality disorders.

I recognize not everyone has the freedom to go No Contact, due to coparenting or other extenuating circumstances. I understand not everybody wants to. I’m grateful for this freedom and choice. I don’t take it for granted. I was able to completely and permanently walk away from an unhealthy situation. I've been able to ease, in time, back into a normal life. I'm still getting there. Narcissists don’t have the capacity to do that. For them there is no “normal” life to ease back into. There never has been. They can discard you, erase all traces of you from their lives, replace you with a new FP, partner, source of supply; but none of this will resolve their pain because they can’t leave themselves.

April 4, 2019:

With the care I’ve given my body over the past few months, I see how beautiful it is, but I can’t enjoy it. My daily uniform is the pajamas I’ve worn forever and 30 pounds ago. The shirts are all stained with healing oils that haven’t worked. Most days I put my hair in a ponytail and under a hat without brushing it. In a ponytail, my hair is more silver now than amber.

I’ve become the disabled version of my dream girl, the one I met when I was 22 and then years later in another form. The former I wanted to be. You know those people who make you feel the potential in yourself. The latter I just wanted to be with. For the same reason. The potential in myself. Both times I was thwarted. Like I am now with healing. Sometimes I can’t make a thing work, no matter how hard I try.

I’ll never realize my potential in any of those ways. Sometimes life isn’t meant to be for growing old and growing into your full self. Sometimes life ends shortly after birth, with no silver in your hair and no dreams of your own realized.

I’ve had much more than that. I’ve enjoyed a lot of dreams. The ones I’ve slept with at night, and the ones long held in daylight and let go.

I’m terrified. Please pray for my back muscles to loosen and for my hypermobile vertebrae t5 to stay to the right, off of the rhomboid region. There are no words to describe my suffering. I need a miracle.

I need the highest prayers today. It’s crunch time for me and my unfolding understanding of divinity. I pray to get out of pain. Envisioning looseness and less volume in my back muscles to start. Thy will be done. Let it be. 🙏

April 4, 2020:

The ability to let go of people who would cage me is a gift. I KNOW this. Still, I don’t like anticipating the letting go.

“You’re not caged,” they say with heads shaking and eyes rolling, “Your door is unlocked. Stop spewing your ignorant bullshit and just keep your dirty ass at home.” Yep, actual words I’ve been told because I dare to *gasp* go out and live what I can of my shitty life.

Here’s the thing... when people cling in fear to a cage of their own making, eventually the powers that be will come around and lock the door from the outside, knowing the clingers won’t complain, rather they’ll give thanks for their own imprisonment.

I refuse the cage. I sing from the trees and the sky. I’m done with anyone who doesn’t honor MY choice for ME. I don’t need to sing for freedom, because I’ve already chosen it. Freedom is already mine.

We’re all birds with a choice to make. Until that choice is taken. History tells us that once they’ve locked the door from the outside, it’s too late. Our hearts and guts know it too if we listen.

“Caged Bird

BY MAYA ANGELOU

A free bird leaps

on the back of the wind

and floats downstream

till the current ends

and dips his wing

in the orange sun rays

and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks

down his narrow cage

can seldom see through

his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and

his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze

and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees

and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn

and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams

his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream

his wings are clipped and his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.”

April 4, 2021:

Memory. Coincidentally I’ve been thinking this morning about the stream inside me. That stream the free bird floats upon to where the sky begins. Buried under all the work and pressure and pain, the stream is crystal clear as melting snow and teeming with life. It flows down my cheeks to the corners of my mouth as I write the deepest truths of connection and loneliness. My capacity to write lives within it. My connection with kindred spirits is there along with all the joyful things that effect my vitality. I KNOW the stream is there inside, underneath. And, yes, I have a fear of losing access to it. I know the words are in me; it’s just been so long since I’ve felt them truly flowing. I miss that quality of song. I miss those downy feathers catching the wind. I miss the snapping of little fingers, creating a million crickets, and filling the darkness. The bird’s dawn bright lawn becomes the fat worm’s grave of dreams I suppose. Either way is preferable to the cage. Most people just don’t get it. They’re even more batshit delusional than they were a year ago.

April 4, 2023:

Memory. Does the truly free bird actually sing? I wonder. Or does she just fly and eat and mate? And where does she get the energy for all of that? In 2021 ⬆️ I wrote about losing my inspiration to *sing.* Without the pressure of the cage, the artesian well in me is still dry. I get tempted lately to fill up the emptiness with merlot and feel alive that way. Because I can do that again without feeling sick. For now. Part of me is fine with that choice, desires that even. But many (most?) parts me are unclear about what they want. I wonder how so much time can pass without more clarity. Is there really THAT much freeze in my system?… Yes. The cage is wide open, and the bird so often chooses to lie on the floor, too uninspired and frozen to do much of anything. Who knew this would be the case less than a year after really meeting the feeling of freedom and stepping into that realm? Who knew with the sky and all the trees to choose from that the floor of the cage would so often be the choice? Who knew that I’d desire again at times to drink wine in order to feel my life force, when I know where that road led for my gut and my toe and my body as a whole? 🤷‍♀️ Why do I not go out and find places where the other free birds gather? Why do I not improve my nest? Why do I spend what feels like so much of my days in stillness and in the absence of desire? I can view the freeze as a *son of a bitch*. Or I can view it as a survival pattern of the little one whose system capped the intensity so often in anticipation of death that she never developed authentic desires. I don’t know what to do with that young part, but I know alcohol is not what she wants and writing is likely not what she wants either, or at least she wants something more/deeper than writing. She wants connection and she wants to feel her purpose. I’m not totally clear about how to consistently give her what she needs. I keep doing the work, and I work through my resistance to doing the work. Intoxicants take me out of connectedness and presence. Alcohol, internet, tv, *book learning*, even to an extent writing and eating when those aren’t inspired by real thirst for the flow of words and real empty-gut hunger for food… those all take me out of Self energy and out of my body and away from my parts. Maybe the little one who wants connection and purpose just needs my listening hand on my body, “I’m here; I’m listening.” I could choose to stay on the floor of the cage, listening constantly and sipping water when she’s thirsty, until she guides me to do something else. Hmmm…

[moremaybank]

a headcanon of sex with yandere klaus mikaelson

having sex with yandere klaus mikaelson

warnings: sexual content below (daddy kink mentioned), 18+ readers only

klaus masterlist

the man’s sex drive is insane

and he cannot stop touching you

he can’t help it though

your existence alone turns him on

it doesn’t matter if you just came back from the gym

or if you’re roaming the house in your lingerie teasing him

he’s always ready for you

his grip on you is rough

his hand is wrapped around your throat, ensuring you’re watching his every action

or his hand is circled around your wrists so that you can’t touch him until he lets you

he loves when you get down on your knees with your mouth wide open, inviting him to fuck your face

“please let me suck your cock, daddy. i just want to make you feel good”

god, you make him crazy

your hair is in a makeshift ponytail with his hands as he thrusts into your mouth

he loves when he releases anywhere on you

your tits, your stomach, etc.

but his favourite place to come is in your mouth, or inside you

his words are filthy and you love it

vamp speed…that’s all i’m gonna say about that

you’re always at his mercy & his controlling side relishes in this

face down, ass up so he can fuck you from behind while you’re almost ripping the sheets apart with your tight grip on them

fucking you in missionary so you can see everything, including the man you belong to

riding him with all your might as he commands you

“bounce on my cock, love. milk me of all that i’m worth as you make yourself come all over me”

he’s not afraid to use sex toys on you

most men would be embarrassed. klaus however? inspired

he’s holding the vibrator against your clit while he’s drilling 3 fingers inside of you and you’re moaning like crazy

or when he’s fucking you with your dildo and sucking on your clit as you suck the life out of his cock

he also isn’t afraid to use sex toys on you in public

you’ll be out to dinner enjoying a sip of your wine before you choke on it

why you ask?

because klaus decided to put the remote-controlled vibrating thong on the highest level when choosing to shock the hell out of you

it’s so much harder to keep your composure in public

“i bet you wish i could take you right here, don't you? you on top of me while i fuck up into your dripping little cunt, as everyone watches and hears your screams”

and then the waiter comes to your table and klaus plays it off with a knowing smirk as you avoid eye contact

he has no problems making his siblings jealous of all the great sex you’ve been having

which leads to him ravishing you against the walls or doors of the compound

your back hitting against the hard surfaces repeatedly, in time with klaus’ harsh thrusts

you’re screaming his name and he’s smirking because he knows everyone can hear how hard he’s fucking you and how much you’re loving it

but don't ever make the mistake of purposely trying to make klaus jealous

once you two had gotten into a fight

so you went out to a party

klaus had been eyeing you the entire time you were chatting with a fine gentleman so you could persuade him to buy you a drink

but then you asked him to join you on the dance floor, and it was over

watching that gremlin with his hands all over your body made his anger shoot through the roof

he pulled the man off of you, escorting you home in silence

he reached his room & threw you on his bed

tied your limbs to each corner of the bed frame

and fucked you until you were crying from the pleasure

“i think you enjoy me this way. jealous, angry and possessive. and i have no problem fucking you like i am”

he also has a MASSIVE breeding kink and will claim you against every surface within arms reach

“i’m going to fuck you full of my seed, and then when i’m done you’re going to ride my cock so i can fill you right back up again”

secretly loving when he punishes you

he spanks you until you’re red & dripping

he ties you up and eats you out for hours on end

he denies your orgasms throughout 5 vigorous rounds

then he has you coming back to back, no breaks

he’s fucking you as he plays with your clit so perfectly that it has you (s)creaming

sex with him is just…indescribable

no man should be walking around with all that cock & all that knowledge of just what to do with it

but he’s klaus mikaelson

he can and will do whatever the hell he wants

~

a/n: my bad if this is too long, i got a lil carried away😅 i hope you all enjoy the filthy works of my brain

[cherryatiny]

𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝐝𝐚𝐝'

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„See princess? And this is how you trim audio when working on a song.“ responded Hongjoong excitedly, from how interested his daughter was in the matter of creating and producing music, just like her dad.

The little girl squealed on his lap happily, as she just edited her first song. „Wow, daddy's work is so cool! I'm gonna be like daddy when I grow up!“ He couldn't help but smile at how his cute daughter was an exact copy of him when it came to her looks, interests or even personality.

„Okay princess, can you be a good girl and be quiet for a while? Daddy just has to finish this one song, I promise it'll take just a few minutes.“ his daughter nodded, always obeying the words of her dad.

Sitting there quietly, she looked at the screen of his computer, the small pink headphones Hongjoong bought for her on times like these when they listened and worked on music together, on her head, as she listened to the song that featured her dad and his seven friends.

The girl suddenly jumped up on his lap, his hands swiftly catching her, not wanting to imagine the piercing cry of pain she'd let out if she fell. „What are you doing, princess? You have to be careful baby, or else you'll fall. Why did you even jump?“

„I heard dad singing in the chorus!“ exclaimed his daughter. „But daddy wasn't singing in the chorus, princess.“ frowned Hongjoong confusedly, not knowing what his daughter meant. „I know. I was talking about dad Seonghwa.“ his daughter not being able to distinguish between the voices would be completely okay, after all, she's just a toddler, but his daughter calling his friend Seonghwa dad intentionally, was not that okay for him.

„But Seonghwa isn't your dad. I'm your dad.“ Weird jealousy-like feeling flowed through his veins at that moment. „I know that you're my dad, but mommy said uncle Seonghwa is my dad too!“

„No my little dummy, you missed it, uncle Seonghwa is your godfather, not your dad, him being your godfather doesn't make him your dad, princess.“ explained Hongjoong as he smiled at his little girl, embracing her in a tight but careful hug full of love since she's tiny and fragile.

⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Heating the zucchini sauce, that his friend Hongjoong taught him how to cook, before pouring it on the pasta, Seonghwa served his twin daughters the meal they love so much. „Okay.. enjoy your meal, my loves, what do you say?“ waiting for their answer, the girls thanked him loud, cheerfully. „Thank you, daddy!“

Seonghwa smiled proudly at how well you two raised them. „That's it, smart girls, after your parents! And don't forget to eat everything! You have to eat, so you can be strong and healthy girls!“

No answer was given to him, as the two girls munched on their lunch, stuffing their mouths with pasta. In the meanwhile, Seonghwa washed the dishes he made dirty by cooking, before taking one serving of the pasta to eat as well.

Sitting down on the chair opposite of his daughter, he dug his fork into the meal, watching his daughters. „How is it? Do you like it?“ The younger twin tried to answer, but her words were muffled as her mouth was full.

„Princess, what did I say about talking while you're eating? Finish chewing first so you don't gag on the food and say it to me after that.“

„It was yummy but dad makes it better!“After finishing the last bits of their meals they place the empty plates one on another, the older twin, picking it up and placing it into the sink, she was hardly able to reach. „What are you talking about princess, daddy cooked it.“

„I didn't mean you, daddy, I meant dad Joong.“ Seonghwa felt his eyebrows frowning on their own at his daughter calling his best friend her dad. Yes, it was stupid to be jealous of something like this, but he just couldn't help it. „Why are you calling uncle Hongjoong your dad?“

„He's as old as you daddy, so I thought he could be my dad as well!“

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

Sitting his three kids into their child seats and fastening their seatbelts, Yunho got into his driver seat, carefully leaving the parking lot. Looking in the rear mirror, his two boys were playing together deep down in a conversation, while their little sister slept.

Nevertheless, he still drove quite slowly, because he knew the kids might throw up from the number of roller coasters they rode with Mingi's daughter today.

Coming home, his daughter was still sleeping and he didn't have the heart to wake her up from her peaceful state. Picking her up on his arms, her head laying on his shoulder, the two boys jumped out of the car, already running to the house to rant about their day to you.

Hearing their shouting from outside, you were already waiting for them in the hallway, the two boys jumping onto you, embracing you in a hug with their tiny arms. Smiling at your husband Yunho that was standing in the hallway.

„I missed you my loves! The house was empty without you. Did you have fun today at the amusement park?“

„Yes! Dad bought us ice cream!“ Yeah. You could see that since a chocolate stain adorned his light green t-shirt, smiling at your sons whose day was lightened up by the chocolate ice cream they loved that much.

„Yuyu, what did I tell you about buying the kids ice cream. It's full of sugar and chemicals, I could've made them one myself when you came home, and it won't stuff chemicals into their bodies.“

„But I didn't buy them ice cream, Y/N, Mingi did... Wait! Did you two just call uncle Mingi your dad? I'm actually hurt.“

Yunho cried and fell to the ground dramatically to show how much his boys calling his best friend their father hurt him. Only resulting in the boys laughter.

„[Mingi's daughter's name] said she's our little sister as well as [Yunho's daughter's name] and that you're one of her dads, so we thought that Mingi's our dad too!“

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

„Mommy, mommy, can you please braid my hair?“ squeaked your daughter cutely as she ran towards you with a hairband in her small hands. Handing it over to you as you cooked a meal for lunch.

„Mommy is busy, come over here, daddy is so good at braiding hair.“ exalted your husband Yeosang himself as he motioned for his daughter to come to him.

Spreading his legs widely for his daughter to sit in between them in his lap as her back faced him.

Brushing her soft and silky hair into a ponytail, he took the hairband from her hand and started braiding her hair into a (really messy) braid.

The girl stood up, running over to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Stepping out onto her stairs so she can see herself, she saw the terrible creature that was supposed to adorn her head.

Unbraiding the messy hairstyle, she ran back to the room where you and Yeosang were. Ignoring Yeosang who looked at her confusedly as to why she damaged the braid he made, the little girl tugged at your t-shirt to gain your attention.

„Mommy, mommy, why are dads so bad at braiding hair?“ scoffed the girl as she pouted with playful anger at Yeosang.

„Do you have experiences with other dads that you can generalize it?“ asked Yeosang as he watched the two of you with wide eyes, to catch every detail. „Dad Jongho couldn't braid my hair as well.“

His daughter calling his best friend dad seemed to spark jealousy and some kind of anger in him. „And who told you to call uncle Jongho 'dad'?“

„And who told you that you're good at braiding hair as you claimed?“ scoffed the little girl at her dad as she hugged you closer to her, not letting you go as she was acting petty with her dad. „Damn, who is this kid so mean and sarcastic after...“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

Looking out of the window on the immense garden their house had, San's two sons were playing soccer there. One as a goalkeeper and the second one trying to score a goal against his older brother.

The last night there was a big storm which caused the mud to be all over their garden. However, the boys didn't seem to care that they were covered in dirt head to toes.

Even though it was in the boys' nature to not care if they're dirty, he knew you'd be angry when you came home and saw all the dirty clothing and scraped knees. So he rather called them to come inside, the boys ran inside the spacious house.

„Boys, you know how angry mommy will be, what did we say about playing in the mud?“ Scolding them playfully the boys didn't like the restrictions you two made.

„But daddy Wooyoung lets us play outside even after rain when there's mud." The younger one whined, trying to persuade his father San to let them continues playing, instead getting a reaction out of his older brother.

„He's not your dad, Wooyoung is our uncle you dumbass.“ Not believing his ears, San kneeled down to be on the boys' eye level as he scolds them.

„Hey you, don't call your younger brother dumbass, where did you even learn that word? And you, don't call uncle wooyoung your dad, or I'll have to have a serious conversation with that dumbass.“ scoffed San at the two boys as he stood up, about to look for some clean clothes to clean this mess before you came home and scolded all three of them.

„Daddy? And if you can say dumbass, why can't I?“

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

Coming home from work, all exhausted and your body sore, you placed your keys and bag on the table in the hallway, shouting some greetings to alert Mingi and your daughter that you're home.

Not getting any response, you stepped into the living room, being met with the image of your husband Mingi pouting and sitting on the ground with arms crossed over his chest as he frowned cutely at the little girl that sat opposite of him.

Your daughter doing exactly the same as if they were imitating each other. „What's wrong with you two, did something happen?“

Looking at them with confusion in your eyes, you sat on the ground with them, waiting for their clarification of whatever happened.

„[Mingi's daughter's name] called Yunho her dad. He's not her dad, I'm her dad! If I called any other kid my daughter she'd start crying too, so why can't I?“

Trying to hold back the laughter at Mingi's childish behaviour, you looked at your daughter, expecting her to say something. „Daddy don't be jealous, even though I have eight dads and you're one of them, you're the best one, and my most favourite one! I love you, daddy, so don't be mad at dad Yunho anymore.“

You could see Mingi's bottom lip quirking at her words and you knew that he wanted to cry from the heartwarming words your daughter said to him, nevertheless he couldn't lose his composure as he was playing offended with her for the past two hours.

„Okay princess, come here, to the best daddy you have, but don't you dare wish any of them on the father's day.“

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

Sitting on the soft couch in your and Wooyoung's house's living room, you listened to the conversation between him and San as you watched your son of 10 months laying on the mat with clattering toys dangling above him, that was placed on the living room's floor.

His tiny figure trying to reach out for them, but failing. Seeing how his eyebrows started to shrug, the displeased expression on his face, Wooyoung could sense what was about to happen and he was definitely not in the mood to hear his son's piercing hysterical almost scream-like cries.

„Okay, okay, young man, come to daddy before you make us deaf with your crying.“

Picking him up, Wooyoung placed your son on his lap, the tiny boy laying there as he looked up at San's dimples, the man in question couldn't help but smile and giggle at how cute his best friend's son was.

Leaning towards him, he tickled the baby with his fingers, not failing to make your son a giggling mess. The boy in your husband's lap reached out to touch his dad's friend, his tiny fingers gripping on San's t-shirt.

„Da-da. Dada!“ Both your and Wooyoung's eyes widened at hearing your son talk for the first time, „Say that again, bun.“

Encouraged him Wooyoung, trying to make his son say 'dad' again, however, he wasn't the one his son meant.

Reaching towards San, your son somehow turned himself over onto his stomach and tried to get over to San. „Dada!“ screamed your son once again as he was trying to move himself to San's lap somehow.

„W-what? Baby no, that's not your dad! I'm your dad, that's uncle San, he's not your dad.“ Wooyoung tried to turn your son over, so he could look at his real father, but the boy only protested, letting out those cute 'dad' blabbers over and over, resulting in you laughing at how grumpy Wooyoung got because of this situation.

Well, saying that Wooyoung didn't invite San over for about a month was understandable.

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Sitting on the ground of his room, while playing with cars that belonged to him, you listened to him rambling about everything - his day in the kindergarten, the toy cars, the cute puppy he saw, when suddenly he switched the topic of his chatter,

„Mommy, why doesn't daddy Yeosang have a boy, who'll play soccer with me?“ Not realising the way your son called your friend at first, you thought about a way to answer his question, when you actually discerned one of his words after a while,

„Look, baby, it's- wait, why did you call uncle Yeosang 'daddy'? He's not your daddy, as you've said he has his own child and you have your own daddy.“

„I know mommy, that he's not my real daddy, but he's [Yeosang's daughter's name]'s daddy, and when I'll be grown up, I'll marry her and he'll become my daddy too!“ explained your little son before returning to his previous task of playing with the cars that were all over his room's floor.

Not being aware of your husband Jongho that stood outside his room and eavesdropped your whole conversation, he exposed himself when he suddenly scoldingly whined from the hallway,

„Yah, aren't you way too young to have a wife, definitely not Yeosang's daughter, if that girl is at least as half the way as Yeosang is, she'll be able to kill you with her words alone. And her father is way too buff, it'd be stressful to have him as your father in law, what if he gets angry. Definitely not, he won't be your father in any way, young man.“

[emospritelet]

Closing the Circle - chapter 11/?

Last time, Gold was an ass and broke up with Belle, so she decided to go to the Rabbit Hole to put him out of her mind. He is, of course, Totally Fine about the break up.

[AO3 link]

-

By the time Belle and Mulan got to the Rabbit Hole, it was just starting to get busy, and the bartender looked relieved at the sight of Mulan. She patted Belle on the shoulder before heading out back with him. Belle looked around, chewing her lip, and smiled as she spotted Emma waving from one of the tables. She hurried over, dodging around Gaston and ignoring the lewd comment he made about her dress. Emma was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, blonde hair tumbling in loose waves around her shoulders. Lily was looking subdued, dressed in a black tank and pants above heavy boots, a thick belt with an ornate silver buckle at her waist and her dark hair pulled up in a shining ponytail. Emma grinned as Belle reached them.

“Hey,” she said. “Want to join us? There are some real sleazes in here, and there’s safety in numbers, right?”

“Sure,” said Belle. “Can I get you guys a drink?”

“We’re on Coke,” said Emma. “Just for tonight though. It’s Lily’s twenty-first on Saturday. She’ll finally get to buy me a beer.”

She nudged Lily with a grin, earning a warm smile in return.

“Happy birthday for Saturday!” said Belle. “Let me get those drinks.”

She wandered over to the bar, where Gaston was holding up a twenty-dollar bill and scowling. Mulan had tied an apron around her waist and was carrying in a tray of clean glasses. She winked at Belle, who ordered two Cokes and a gin and tonic.

“Take a seat, I’ll bring ‘em over,” said Mulan.

“Hey, how come I don’t get table service?” objected Gaston. “And I was here first, you should have served me before her!”

“Turn into a pretty girl and I might notice you more,” said Mulan.

Gaston started to bluster, and Belle chuckled as she headed back to Emma and Lily.

“Mulan’s bringing the drinks over,” she said.

“Oh, she works here now?” Emma craned her neck. “Cool. Oh God, that big guy’s getting in her face. Can’t wait to see her toss the moron out on his ass.”

Belle grinned, sliding into a seat opposite Lily.

“So, it’s your twenty-first this weekend,” she said. “Do you have plans?”

“My mom has something planned,” said Lily, looking unenthusiastic. “A family get-together. Can’t wait.”

“Yeah, but once that’s done you can come out with me!” said Emma. “We’ll both be twenty-one, we can drink booze and fall out of the bar. It’s a right of passage!”

“I guess,” said Lily. “I don’t feel like an adult, I have to say.”

“All the more reason to be young and stupid and make some dumbass decisions,” said Emma, and Lily giggled, her eyes sparkling for a moment before gloom seemed to settle over her once more.

“Here you go, girls.” Mulan appeared at the table with their drinks on a tray. “Not even ten minutes into my shift and I already had to threaten a guy with an ass-kicking. This job rules!”

“Thanks,” said Belle, grinning at her as she took her gin and tonic. “Do you know if you’re working Saturday? It’s Lily’s birthday, we’re trying to persuade her to come out.”

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” said Mulan. “A birthday, huh? There’ll be a drink of your choice on me, Lily.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to come,” said Lily awkwardly. “Family thing. I’d rather be here with you guys, trust me.”

“How well do you get along with your family?” asked Belle carefully.

Lily pulled a face.

“Have you ever felt like, no matter what you do or how hard you try, they’ll always be disappointed in you because what you want isn’t what they want?”

“Oh yeah,” said Belle, with certainty. Lily looked wistful.

“I just can’t get my mother to understand that I’m not her,” she said. “I don’t want to be her, to do the things she’s done or - or live the life she’s lived. I’m not interested in power or status or any of it! It’s the reason I left in the first place.”

“So why did you come back?” asked Emma, and she shrugged awkwardly, pushing her straw around in the ice cubes in her glass.

“Because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t,” she said, and Emma bristled.

“If she’s threatening you—”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” said Lily hastily. “It’s - it’s me.”

“What do you mean?” 

She hesitated, poking the straw back in amongst the ice cubes and pushing the glass away before sitting back.

“It’s me,” she repeated. “My whole life, weird things have happened, stuff that’s out of my control. I didn’t want to be responsible for any more of it.”

“What kind of stuff?” asked Mulan, and Lily shook her head, folding her arms.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” she muttered.

Belle shared a glance with Mulan, and leaned in a little closer.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure we would,” she said gently. “We’re very open-minded, you know. If you need to talk - about anything, no matter how crazy you think it is - we’re ready to listen.”

Lily shook her head, looking miserable, and Emma reached across the table to take her hand and squeeze.

“Look,” she said. “I can’t pretend to know what’s going on with your family, but I’ve always got your back. You know that. You want to go tell your mom to back the hell off, I’m with you. Hell, I’ll tell her myself, if you want!”

“You can’t do that…”

“Give me one good reason why not.”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt!” said Lily urgently.

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to be the one that’s hurt, huh?”

“No, Emma, I didn’t mean—”

“Well, what have we here?” 

A bright, overly cheerful voice cut off whatever Lily had been about to say, and Belle glanced around to see Zelena breezing up to their table with that wide, false grin on her face.

“So nice to see you socialising, Lily,” she said. “I always thought you preferred your own company. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Lily sat back, pulling out of Emma’s grasp and seeming to fold in on herself.

“This is Zelena, my - uh - sort of cousin, I guess,” she muttered.

“Oh, come now, we’re practically step-sisters, aren’t we?” crooned Zelena, still baring her teeth in a manic smile. “I’ve met the delightful Miss French, of course. And who’s this lovely young thing?”

Emma was looking at Zelena with her jaw clenched and her brows drawn down, as though she was anticipating a fight.

“Swan,” she said bluntly. “Emma Swan.”

“You must be Lily’s special friend,” said Zelena, still grinning. “The one she met while she was out of town. I was always telling her to get out more, and she certainly took me at my word! Barely a word from her for months! You can imagine how worried we all were.”

“Seems she’s back,” said Emma, and Zelena let out a tinkling laugh. 

“Well, family comes first, doesn’t it?” she said. “Are you in Storybrooke for long, Emma?”

“Haven’t decided.”

“A woman of few words, it seems.”

“I got some words for you,” said Emma coldly, and Zelena stepped back, putting a hand to her heart.

“My my, aren’t you a feisty one?” she purred. “Perhaps this spirit has been rubbing off on dear Lily. Always quiet as a little mouse, she was, but lately I can’t help feeling she’s developed a rebellious streak.”

“Did you come here for a drink, or to bother my customers?” asked Mulan bluntly. “It had better be the first, I already threatened one asshole tonight. The bar’s over there.”

She jerked her head towards the bar, and Zelena’s false smile disappeared for a moment, turning into a sneer before she caught herself.

“Dry martini,” she said imperiously, hands plucking at the skirts of her green dress and shaking them out. “I’ll drink it at the bar. Lily, I’ll see you at home.”

She swept off, elbowing other customers aside before slotting in next to Gaston, and Mulan shot the others an amused look before following.

“Well,” said Emma. “She’s - interesting.”

“I’d better go,” sighed Lily. “If she’s here, it means my mother sent her, and there’s no way I can chill out with her breathing down my neck. You want to do this again? Maybe Friday?”

“I’ll walk you back,” said Emma, and gave Belle an apologetic look. “Sorry we’re bailing on you.”

“It’s fine,” said Belle, and smiled as she spotted Ruby coming in from the street, cheeks flushed from the cold. “Look, Ruby’s here. I’ll have some company.”

Emma and Lily looked relieved, and said hi to Ruby before heading out. Ruby took the seat that Emma had left, grinning widely as she sat down and flicking dark hair back over her shoulders.

“So,” she said. “What are we drinking?”

“Gin and tonic, emphasis on the gin,” said Belle. “Kind of drowning my sorrows.”

Ruby’s face fell.

“Oh, what happened?”

“Nothing,” sighed Belle. “Nothing I shouldn’t have expected, anyway. I forgot how awful men can be, that’s all.”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir on that one,” said Ruby. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” said Belle glumly. “Trying to stop thinking about him, to be honest. It’s not working.”

Ruby sniffed.

“If you can’t stop thinking about ex-lovers, drown ‘em in booze, that’s my philosophy,” she said. “Drain that glass, girl, I’ll get you another. One mind-wipe, coming up.”

-

Gold was finding it hard to concentrate. 

He had settled in his study to read, a fire crackling in the hearth and an excellent glass of wine by his side. Music had been playing quietly in the background, but he had turned it off, finding that his eyes were skittering across the page, unable to hold onto the words. He had endured a restless night and a miserable day, and was irritated with himself for letting Miss French get under his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Possibly not since he had left mortality behind, and therefore it hardly counted. He had been a different person then. A pathetic worm of a man, unable to protect those he loved. Unable to fight back. Interesting how things turned out.

He allowed himself a brief smile, remembering the taste of the blood on his tongue and a satisfaction born of vengeance. The first kills he had made had stayed with him. There had been meaning to them, a sense of casting off what he had been, embracing the darkness and being reborn with vigour and strength. And hunger.

You could be a good man, I know it!

Gold squeezed his eyes shut, as though that would somehow stop her voice in his head. He could see her now, those wide blue eyes piercing him, flashing with righteous fury as he said the worst things he could think of. She was breathtaking, blazing with light and life, burning like the sun he sought to avoid. And he was darkness, ruin and decay. His touch would corrupt her. He would pull her down, destroy her. Ending it was for the best.

He shook his head, slamming the book shut and tossing it aside before snatching up his glass. Damn the woman! Why the hell did I ever let myself get close? I should have drained her dry and been done with it!

He slurped the wine, as though it was somehow a substitute for human blood, and shook his head, putting down the glass and getting to his feet. Perhaps he could find a distraction. Perhaps he simply needed a reminder of who he really was.

-

When he reached the Rabbit Hole it was busy, filled with raucous laughter and the tuneless dirge that passed for music. The smell was offensive to his sensitive nose, the cloying scent of body spray not quite masking fresh sweat. He lingered in the doorway, eyes scanning the bar, and sucked in a breath as he saw Belle deep in conversation with Miss Lucas, her slim, pale hands gesturing as she spoke. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling, and he felt something deep in his chest clench at the sight. It was hard to tear his eyes from her, and so he made his way towards the bar. He stopped dead as he saw that Mulan was behind it, chatting with a customer as she set a pint of beer in front of him. Zelena was seated further down, and as neither woman had noticed him, Gold turned swiftly on his heel. He walked quickly towards the corridor that housed the restrooms. The door closing behind him cut off the noise and heat, and he let out a sigh of relief. Coming here was a bad idea. What the hell was I thinking of? 

He shook his head, eyeing the door at the end that led to the alleyway outside. He had parked the Cadillac around the corner. There was still time to go home and get as drunk as he could manage on whatever he had in the house. Oblivion seemed a tempting prospect.

There was a blast of noise as the door to the bar opened, and Gold turned. Belle had stopped dead, rocking back on her heels with a shocked look on her face. Pushing down the surge of emotion at seeing her, he simply gave her a brief nod.

“Miss French.”

She rolled her eyes at that.

“Mr Gold.”

Silence. His eyes drank her in, dark curls gleaming in the light, her short skirt flaring out over perfect legs hugged by dark tights. She seemed to be waiting for him to speak.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, and she folded her arms.

“Likewise,” she said. “Out for a drink with friends?”

There was a sarcastic twist to her mouth, and it made him feel oddly defensive.

“A matter of business,” he lied. “We can’t all spend our evenings in an increasing state of pointless inebriation.”

Belle’s eyes widened, and she let out a bark of cheerless laughter.

“Are you seriously criticising me for having a few drinks with Ruby?”

“It’s none of my concern, of course,” he said. “Although this dump does tend to attract the worst kinds of people—”

“Case in point.” She gestured up and down his body.

“—and it would be more sensible to keep your wits about you,” he went on. “Such as they are.”

“Well, your concerns are duly noted,” she said, her tone dry. “But given our last conversation, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. You have no say in how I choose to live my life.”

“I’m not trying to,” he said coldly. “You may go wherever you wish, it’s a matter of supreme indifference to me.” 

“Good.”

“I’m merely pointing out that last time you were in here I had to intervene to stop you being assaulted.”

“Well, given that you told me I was a waste of your precious time, I doubt you’ll feel the need again,” she said. “Why do you even care what I do?”

“I don’t!” he snapped, and headed for the door, wrenching it open and stepping out into the freezing air.

She followed him, of course, heels tapping on the concrete.

“I just thought I’d let you know that I’m not going anywhere,” she called after him. “I’m staying in Storybrooke, and I’m opening the library as I planned. So whatever you were trying to do, you failed.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

“Right, so you just decided to say terrible things to me and suggest I might want to leave town for no reason?”

“I spoke the truth,” he said, turning to face her. “What you choose to do with those truths is up to you.”

“You’re a liar!” she said fiercely. “You may not think it, Gold, but I know who you really are. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you with your guard down, when you’re forgetting to be an asshole. I know you. And I know you’re gonna regret this. You probably already do.”

Well, that stung.

“I don’t have regrets,” he said through his teeth, and she let out that bitter laugh again.

“Another lie,” she said, and shook her head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your choice.”

“That’s right.”

“Then congratulations,” she said. “You can go back to pretending you don’t care about anyone. I’m sure you’ll make the most of it.”

He tried to think of a snappy retort, and found that he couldn’t. The moonlight gave her smooth skin a bluish hue, her breath misting out in the cold air. Her chin was lifted, chest heaving with outrage and fists clenched at her side. She was remarkable, and he wanted more than anything to take her in his arms and kiss her. He licked his lips, taking a step back before he could reach for her. 

“Go home,” he said. “Get Miss Lucas to walk you and you’ll be safe.”

He turned away, heading for his car and leaving her staring after him. Part of him expected her to call after him; she liked to have the last word, after all, but there was only silence. He glanced back as he reached the car, but she had already gone, no doubt back inside the bar. A prickle at the back of his neck, the sense that one of his own kind was nearby, made him sigh and raise his eyes.

“So you chose not to ravish her this time.” Jefferson sauntered out of the shadows, Cruella smirking at his shoulder. “Pity. We were looking forward to seeing round two.”

Gold shook his head in irritation.

“Why are you two always hanging around in alleyways?” he demanded, and Jefferson shrugged languidly.

“We’re creatures of the night,” he said. “Lurking is kind of our thing.”

“Well, find somewhere else to bloody lurk,” he said. “I’m leaving.”

“Oh no.” Cruella shook her head. “We’re not letting you go home to drink alone. You’ve been a miserable bastard for days now.”

“I’ll do as I please!” he hissed, wrenching open the car door, and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re really not handling this break-up well, it has to be said.”

“For there to be a break-up, there would have had to have been a relationship,” he said. “And there wasn’t.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” 

“Then why are you acting like you want to go home, put on some incredibly dreary music and cry into your whisky?”

Gold slammed the car door, turning to face them.

“Oh, and you have a better offer, do you?”

“Yes,” said Jefferson. “You can take us for a drive and join us on a hunt.”

Gold curled his lip.

“Your taste in victims leaves much to be desired. It took me three days to wash that drunken bigot out of my mouth.”

“So pick a better bar,” said Jefferson impatiently. “Somewhere with a bit more class. Sweet young things wanting a taste of danger.”

“Or perhaps that’s too much of a reminder of what he’s lost,” said Cruella slyly.

Gold had been about to refuse, but at her words he hesitated, then opened the car door again.

“Fine, get in,” he said ungraciously. “But if we end up at some bloody awful sports bar again, I’m killing one of you instead.”

-

The next town along the coast was bigger than Storybrooke, and Gold tapped the steering wheel with his fingers as he turned the car along one of the main streets. Jefferson was on the back seat, and had scooted forward to gaze eagerly past Gold’s shoulder like the family dog on a road trip. Gold was half-expecting him to ask for the window to be opened so he could stick his head out.

“Take the next right,” said Jefferson. “I’m pretty sure there are bars down there.”

Gold turned as instructed. Stores and coffee shops gave way to bars and restaurants, and Jefferson let out a satisfied noise. 

“Over there,” he said. “Agrabah. See? Much better than that sports bar. If you can’t find something sweet to eat here, I owe you another bottle of whisky.”

Gold grumbled under his breath as he parked up.

“I’m not even hungry,” he said petulantly. “I haven’t been hungry in years.”

“Well, one doesn’t need to be hungry to appreciate something delicious,” said Cruella. “Come on, misery-guts, buy me a drink.”

The bar was hot and noisy, its patrons a mix of young people in suits who had clearly gone there straight from the office, and others who were dressed for a night of clubbing. Gold settled at the bar as Jefferson and Cruella wandered off with their drinks. The music was a little too loud for comfort, and he wondered how long it would be before he could call it a night and drive home. He frowned, taking a sip of his whisky. Wanting to go home early? I must be getting old.

“You look like you don’t wanna be here.”

Gold glanced at the young woman leaning on the bar next to him, and did a double take. For a moment he had thought it was Belle; the woman was a petite brunette with pale skin and clear blue eyes. It was not her, though. The woman wore a blue sequin dress with a high neckline and a very low back showing smooth, milky skin. Chestnut hair was tied up in a messy bun, tendrils curling around her jaw, and she was looking him up and down with a smirk on her face.

“Nice suit,” she said. 

“Thank you.”

“Drinking alone’s not good for you, you know,” she added, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Then why don’t I buy you a drink?”

The smirk became a smile.

“Vodka and coke,” she said. “Easy on the coke. I’m Lacey.”

He didn’t give his name, but ordered her drink, and another whisky for himself. Lacey took a drink, eyeing him over the rim of her glass.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” she said. “Did you come alone?”

He decided not to bother telling her about Jefferson and Cruella.

“I wanted a change of scene,” he said.

She sniffed at that.

“Yeah, I get you. I come here a lot, and God, it’s getting repetitive! Same old crowd of lechers and losers every night. Until now, at least.”

“So why come here?” he asked.

“Because everywhere else in this dump of a town is worse,” she said. “And before you say anything, yeah, I could stay home, but where’s the fun in that?”

“I think perhaps you’re asking the wrong person,” he said. “I like my own company.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Like I said.” He took a sip of whisky. “Change of scene.”

“So where’s home?”

“Physically or spiritually?” he asked. “I’m not sure I have an answer for either.”

“Huh?”

She was looking at him as though he was speaking a foreign language. Belle would have countered with a soft smile, and perhaps teased him for his melancholy. He waved a hand, dismissing his comment.

“I’m just passing through,” he said.

“Nothing worth staying home for?”

“Well, my whisky’s certainly better than this,” he said. 

Lacey held up her glass.

“Drink enough and you stop caring what it tastes like.”

“In this place?” Gold pulled a face. “I’ll pass, thank you.”

“Yeah.” Lacey sighed. “Sometimes I think I should try and get my life together and stop living it like it’s my last night on Earth, you know?”

“Not really,” he said. “But there again I’m a lot older than you.”

Lacey pouted, leaning on the bar and letting one hip swing outwards.

“I’m old enough,” she said, and took a swig of her drink.

“For what?” he asked, and her lips curled upwards, her eyes sparkling.

“Whatever you like.”

Gold leaned back, eyes flicking up and down her. She was certainly desirable. A sweet young thing wanting a taste of danger, just as Jefferson had said. Perhaps it was what he needed. A reminder of who he really was. The smirk was back on her face, a mischievous light in her eyes.

“You wanna go out back?” she asked, and he put his glass down on the bar.

“Alright.”

It was cold outside the bar, but Lacey didn’t seem to mind, tugging on his hand as she led him into the alleyway beside the club. It made him think of the Rabbit Hole, arguing with Belle and taking her fiercely against the wall. He had asked if she was his, and she had pushed him away. It didn’t matter.

“Hey, are you still with me?”

Lacey’s voice, somewhat irritated, brought him back to the present, and he pushed Belle out of his head, putting his hands on Lacey’s shoulders and shoving her back against the wall. She let out a tiny gasp of excitement, her chest heaving, and he bent his head to kiss along her jaw and down her throat, hands moving down to settle at her waist. She moaned, opening her legs a little as he pressed up against her, hands sliding up over his chest. His tongue moved in wet circles, feeling the throb of her pulse, numbing her skin, and he felt his fangs grow, pushing slowly downward, ready to pierce her hot skin, to slide deep inside and let her blood course over his lips and tongue. 

Gold paused with his mouth against her throat. Her skin was warm to the touch, the scent of her almost overpowering. He could feel the blood pulsing in her, calling to him, urging him to sink his teeth into her and taste her sweetness. There was a throbbing deep in his loins, a tide of lust rising through him. Lacey sighed, fingers sliding over his shoulders to push through his hair.

“You,” she whispered, “are a very bad man.”

You could be a good man, I know it!

Gold blinked, the sound of Belle’s voice in his head like being doused with cold water. He pulled back hurriedly, pressing himself against the alley wall, and Lacey frowned at him.

“What’s up with you?” 

“Get away from me!” he rasped, and she wrinkled her nose.

“What the hell’s the matter?” she asked. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I don’t!” He scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, shuddering. “And neither do you, trust me. Go home.”

“But—” 

“Go home!”

“Fine!” She tugged her coat straight. “God, save me from guys who blow hot and fucking cold!” 

She stomped back towards the bar, muttering something about weirdos as she went. The door squealed on its hinges as she slammed it shut, and Gold let his head thump back against the wall with a sigh. It was starting to snow again, soft flakes falling on his face, kissing his skin with coldness. A squeak from the bar door and a crunch of footsteps made open his eyes, and Jefferson was shaking his head.

“Well, I saw you come out here with her,” he said. “And I just saw her heading back in complaining about older guys not taking her seriously. Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“If you want blood, me and Cruella found a couple of willing victims. We don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t want blood!” he snapped.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you could have a little something else if you like—”

“I don’t want sex either!”

“Then what do you want?” asked Jefferson, and he shook his head, tugging at the lapels of his coat.

“I don’t know,” he lied. “But I’m not in the mood for this. I’ll wait in the car.”

He turned away without waiting for a response, walking quickly to the Cadillac and getting in, his hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles were white.

I want Belle.

[silverynight]

Can we have more Tanjiro with long hair, please? The pillars rushed to the Butterfly Mansion after hearing the news that Tanjiro had returned from the mission injured (it's only a minor scratch, though). But when they stepped inside, they were very surprised by the figure of Tanjiro sweeping the yard while surrounded by flowers and butterflies (no, it was just their imagination). Tanjiro looks beautiful with his hair tied in a low ponytail, a small smile graces his face as he hums a song softly

Aoi watches Kocho smiling softly at the sight before her; the girls and her spent a couple of minutes cleaning and bandaging Tanjirou's scratches, but it seems the three little (mischievous) girls managed to convince the boy to wear one of the butterfly hair clips.

It's been a while since Tanjirou decided to grow his hair and now he has the habit of tying it up in a very long ponytail. Honestly, his hair looks amazing and he looks breathtaking like that.

And that's kind of the problem because all the hashira love Tanjirou and always go crazy over his beautiful hair.

"They're coming," Kocho tells her and Aoi has the temptation of closing her eyes or running away for a moment.

But she doesn't. The three little girls (Naho, Sumi and Kiyo) are talking with Tanjirou about his latest mission and they absolutely notice when the Pillars walk in.

"You mentioned a song you used to calm Nezuko down, can you sing it for us?" Sumi asks almost shyly; Aoi knows better though and she's sure they have a plan in mind.

Tanjirou looks ethereal; his hair is still a little bit wet because he just took a bath, but it's tied up in a ponytail and with the beautiful hair clip on it.

His arm is bandaged but he looks content, almost at peace, so relaxed that he doesn't notice he has an audience now, holding their breaths as the young demon slayer's cheeks turn just slightly pink.

"Or just hum it?" Naho pleads, managing to finally persuade him.

He nods and his long hair moves a little bit with him.

"This was a song our mother used to sing for us before going to sleep," he mumbles as he closes his eyes, lost in the memory for a couple of seconds.

Then he starts humming and the light from the sunlight comes from the entrance to touch his head like a red golden halo.

Aoi watches the hashira carefully and is afraid for a moment they'll pass out if they don't breathe soon.

Kanroji starts silently sobbing, but Aoi realizes they're happy tears. Shinazugawa is frozen in place and it's the first time someone in the butterfly estate has seen him like that; vulnerable, out of place, like he's afraid to move.

When Himejima starts praying again, in a whisper, something that sounds almost like a poem; Aoi realizes the Pillars have been hit with many emotions at once: they're mesmerized by the sight before them, but also relieved to see he's fine; they were told Tanjirou was injured and she's sure they almost lost their minds because of it.

Iguro hugs Kanroji close to him as he looks at Tanjirou quietly. Tomioka is staring like he wants to absorb the view of Tanjirou humming softly (eyes closed, surrounded by warmth and happiness) and keep it in his mind as an eternal memory.

For once, Uzui is speechless and Tokito has never been so focused on anything before.

Seeing too much emotion displayed before her, makes Aoi feel scared for a moment; it's true, she cares more about Kocho than any other hashira, but she knows everything they do for everyone, how much they have risked and worked in order to keep people safe; they deserve this, they deserve these little moments of happiness.

Tanjirou stops, eyes blinking open as he turns around to look at the Pillars; there's genuine surprise in his big, dark red eyes.

"Oh, hi!" He bows at them respectfully before smiling sincerely at all of them. "I didn't see you there! Do you have a meeting today?"

Aoi rolls her eyes; isn't it obvious that they're just there for him? No, apparently not to Tanjirou, even if Rengoku is right at his side in the blink of an eye and holding him against him like he doesn't want to let go.

They don't want to let him go, Aoi realizes as they gather around him, smiles already curling up the corners of their lips.

"The hair clip was an excellent idea," purrs Uzui, finally being able to speak again. "Was it you Shinobu?"

"No," she smiles, looking down at Naho, Sumi and Kiyo. "It was their idea."

"Yes, I don't know if it suits me, but they insisted so much..." Tanjirou blushes, looking shy.

"You look perfect," Tokito mumbles and he sounds so sincere, the young demon slayer beams at him in return.

"I'll bring you many sweets from my next mission just for that," Uzui promises to the little girls.

"I've missed you, Tanjirou," Tomioka confesses and everyone else looks like he's speaking for all the hashira at once.

"Are you tired or hungry, my boy?" Rengoku asks, pouting when Shinazugawa manages to pull Tanjirou away from him.

"Who did that to you?" The wind hashira sounds almost aggressive, but Aoi knows he's just worried.

"A demon," Tanjirou says, not looking even a little bit afraid of the Pillar. "But I already took care of everything."

"That probably means you gave them a peaceful death," Shinazugawa says, trying to make it look like he's scolding Tanjirou, but he looks almost proud as he keeps talking. "Which they probably didn't deserve."

"I'm glad you're alright, my boy," Rengoku says, as his eyes soften in a way that makes it painfully obvious everything he feels for Tanjirou.

After assuring them he's fine and thanking them for worrying about him, the boy beams.

"Come with me!" Tanjirou says suddenly, lips quirking up into a huge smile. "I'll take you to Nezuko, she probably wants to see you too!"

Tanjirou walks ahead of them, his hair and the butterfly clip makes him look out of reach for a moment, like he's a painting coming to life.

And the Pillars follow him, because in a way it's like they don't have any other choice.

They'll follow until the very end.

Going back to her tasks, Aoi wishes them all the luck in the world so the next time Tanjirou looks back at them he finally sees what's really going on.

***

Patreon

[jamespotterthefirst]

Cariño (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 3 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2K Premise: After their confessing their feelings to one another, everyone can see something has changed. Set in book3, Chapter 11.

Author’s Note: More outsider POVs. This girl loved them and will probably never stop writing them. 

* “cariño” just means “dear” or “love” in Spanish

Grace

The placid, teal waters of the lagoon glimmer like a cluster of diamonds, blending into a breath-taking gradient with the pink swirls of sunrise. Grace attempts to take a picture, but a measly phone camera will never be enough to capture the splendor.

Instead, she takes in a deep breath, convinced such a view is worth getting up early for after a late night of drinking and dancing.

“Nothing… is… worth this, Ethan,” a breathless voice says from nearby, interrupting the silence on the otherwise deserted beach.

“Doctor Allende, I am shocked at you,” a male voice responds. “You know the benefits of regular exercise as well as any other physician.”

It's a young and rather attractive couple jogging down the shore. At least, the taller of the two figures seems to be jogging. The shorter, curvier one is slouching over, dragging their feet against the sand.

“Try to keep up, Lilac.”

As they approach, Grace immediately recognizes them from the previous night at Ines and Angie's reception. Their attractive features would have been enough to make them memorable, but what Grace remembers the most is the long, lingering looks they would cast one another from across the venue.

Now, they move side by side, the tall, handsome man clad in only swimming trunks, his broad shoulders and toned muscles glistening in the first glimmers of sunlight. The pretty brunette at his side wears a bright one-piece that has no right looking so flattering, her dark hair swaying in a high ponytail.

“Jogging isn't exercise. It's a form of medieval torture,” the young woman returns, panting after every other word.

“And you say I'm the dramatic one,” he returns with a chuckle.

Lilac, not listening, slows her steps until she stops entirely, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ethan rolls his eyes but laughs nonetheless, retracting his steps to return to her side.

“Fine,” he concedes. “You win. No more jogging for today.”

At the words, the brunette recovers miraculously, straightening and shooting him a flirtatious smile. Her companion watches her, as though her unbridled delight is the most precious rarity in the world. When he seems unable to fight the urge any longer, he pulls her to him with a roguish half smile that has even Grace's knees trembling.

Without much preamble or regard for who might be watching, he kisses her, his hands moving to cradle her face.

Grace tries to glance away, giving them as much privacy as possible, but the stark difference from last night captures her attention entirely. At the wedding, there was something quiet and restrained about the way they longed for each other. Today, there is freedom and unabashed happiness in every movement, in every smile, in every small gesture of affection.

“Now will you take pictures?” Lilac asks him, adding a flutter of her lashes to plead her case.

“Was that your only motive for accepting my invitation to exercise? Pictagram worthy shots?”

“You're a Pictagram worthy shot,” she returns without missing a beat, pulling their bodies close again and sealing the coy statement with a kiss.

Ethan does not need much more persuading after that. Despite the groan he lets out, he agrees far too quickly for a man who spends the following two minutes criticizing social media.

At last, he willingly becomes the subject of many of his girlfriend's photographs, even following her directions of different poses. He visibly enjoys the role of photographer when it's finally his turn to take pictures of her. Grace doesn't blame him in the least since Lilac works that camera with captivating poses.

“Now us together,” Lilac says after a while. The words are rushed, as though knowing what the answer will be.

“Absolutely not. No more selfies.”

He takes many selfies with her.

“Excuse me,” Grace says after watching her struggle to capture the beautiful lagoon behind them. “Sorry to interrupt but would you like me to take your picture?”

Lilac appears delighted by the offer, accepting and smiling at Grace so brightly that she too would agree to arduous photoshoots if she asked.

“Alright, say 'cheese.'” Grace lifts the phone Lilac gives her, careful to include the beautiful scenery in the shot.

Ethan looks as though he'd rather be dragged off by a shark than to say the word.

A millisecond before Grace takes the picture, however, Lilac cranes her neck to kiss his cheek, murmuring something in his ear. Whatever it is makes Ethan's smile rival the rising sun on the horizon.

Tobias

Ethan peers down at the coral drink in his companion’s hand, his brow furrowed as though the mere existence of so much color in an alcoholic drink offends him. Tobias watches from the end of the poolside bar with interest, keeping his urge to laugh at bay. Such a visceral reaction to a fun drink is so characteristic of his ex friend that Tobias can hardly help his amusement.

“What the hell is that?” Ethan is asking her.

Lilac Allende is not as successful in biting back her own amusement. She laughs at once, as though she expected such a reaction from him.

“Sex on the beach,” she answers, her voice a husky little pronouncement that is meant to weaken the will of even the strongest of beings. Paired with a lazy, deliberate nail up his arm and the world renowned Ethan Ramsey doesn't stand a chance.

Tobias, still unnoticed by the couple, gives an impressed nod, respecting her game.

“I—” Ethan stammers.

He puts on a brave attempt at impassiveness after this but even Tobias can see the doctor’s ears brighten with color.

“You want to—” His voice drops an octave. “Again?”

“It's the name of the drink, Ramsey,” she informs him in a would-be innocent voice. It's promptly spoiled by her laughter at Ethan's utterly stunned expression.

“You're an unabashed tease, Allende.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

Tobias pauses at the word, uttered so confidently. He almost expects a grimace from his old friend, maybe a hasty change in the conversation. But Ethan surprises him thoroughly by smirking down at the brunette, an expression of pure adoration on his face.

“You're right,” Ethan whispers close to her ear. His voice drops so low that Tobias doesn't catch what he tells her next.

Much to Tobias's continued surprise, the usually confident and vivacious young doctor blushes.

The couple spends the following moments murmuring words that are too low for anyone nearby to hear. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the content of their quiet conversation ranges from nauseatingly romantic to explicit.

They are interrupted by the arrival of one of Dr. Allende's friends, a short and exuberant resident whose name Tobias hadn't learned yet. After Ethan's reassurances that he will catch up in a few, they depart toward the beach where a group of grinning young doctors awaits.

“Never thought I'd see the serious and private Ethan Ramsey engage in PDA.”

If Ethan is surprised to see Tobias occupying a seat nearby, he does a masterful job at masking it. Unfazed, he simply stares at Tobias, willing him to get to the point.

“I knew you two were together thanks to the rumor mill, but I didn't realize it was this serious.”

Ethan narrows his eyes, the only hint of a reaction from him. For all of Tobias's suave swagger, the mistrust he sees in the other doctor's expression stings more than he'd ever admit out loud. He shouldn't have expected any less after all the years laden with dishonesty between both men.

Still, Tobias raises his hands in defeat, letting out a laugh that is not entirely genuine.

“Just trying to make some friendly conversation,” he tells him.

Ethan turns away to face the glass of scotch before him, as though it serves as a more superior conversation partner than Tobias. Knowing when to throw in the towel, Tobias takes his drink and prepares to move away.

“Things are… different,” Ethan finally says before Tobias can move.

It's not much but for Ethan Ramsey, that is as good an olive branch as he'll ever get.

“Lilac is…”

“Different?” Tobias finishes for him.

Even as friends, they were never poetic or sentimental. But Tobias understands the depth behind the single word without further explanation.

“I can see that,” Tobias continues with a small chuckle. “It's obvious to anyone that knows you that she's special.”

Ethan looks at him then, a flicker of surprise on his otherwise impenetrable expression.

“It's nice to see you happy.”

The words leave Tobias before he has any consciousness of forming them. He is shocked—far more than Ethan in that moment—to find he means them.

Naveen

The spell cast by a vacation in a beautiful, faraway place comes to a close as their departure time trickles near. Lamenting this fact, Naveen rounds the corner of the unfamiliar hotel hallway.

He knows better than anyone of the challenges that lay ahead for them as they return to Bloom Edenbrook. He also knows that most of those challenges will be endured by his protégé. What worries him the most is how Ethan will face the strife that is still to come.

Naveen’s steps soon come to a halt a few rooms down when the door to Ethan's room opens.

“...that we got everything, babe.”

Lilac Allende emerges, unaware of Naveen and speaking over her shoulder as she hauls her luggage into the hall. She pauses in the hallway, rummaging through her purse.

“So you decided on 'babe' then?” Ethan asks dryly, appearing at her side with his own suitcase in tow.

“You decided,” Lilac returns cheerfully turning to face him.

“How do you figure I did that exactly?”

“Last night, before we fell asleep. I informed you we had a very important decision to make,” Lilac recounts quite seriously. “I asked you what you wanted me to call you.”

Ethan nods, playfully feigning interest as though they're discussing the specifics of a particularly difficult case.

“I laid out all the possible pet names and you chose 'babe'.”

“I have no recollection of doing that.”

“I told you it was down to 'bear', 'lamb chop', or 'babe'.”

Much to Naveen's amusement, Ethan grimaces at the list of pet names, his expression growing more horrified with each one.

“Just call me your usual ones in Spanish.”

“Oh, I will, cariño. I have a whole list of those ready. Lucky for you, I’m bilingual so you’re getting both. Babe was the one that got the quietest grunt from you, so I assumed that's the one you decided on. But if you'd rather I call you 'bear', then I have no—”

Ethan, who had been watching her with such a lovestruck expression since the word “cariño”,  calls her bluff in the form of a kiss. All pretense vanishes as Lilac melts into the kiss, smiling blissfully against his lips.

“We should leave now if we want to make our flight,” Ethan says, breaking apart with a sigh. “Here. I'll take these.”

He grips the handle of her suitcase, ready to pull it along with his own.

“Thanks, babe,” she says with a wink, emphasizing the last word.

Ethan rolls his eyes but smiles—a rare, genuine smile Naveen only sees when he's around Lilac.

“It's growing on you, isn't it?”

“Perhaps,” Ethan concedes. “Or maybe I'd let you call me whatever you want.”

Lilac laughs, delighted.

“I'd be careful in awarding Dr. Allende that much power,” Naveen says to make his presence known.

The couple turns to look at him, Lilac with an amicable smile and Ethan with a resigned sigh.

“Too late for that,” Lilac responds brightly.

At that, Naveen laughs in agreement much to Ethan's chagrin.

“Is there something you needed or were you just prying?” Ethan asks though not unkindly.

It is a rare sight, though a pleasant one, to see them simply be with one another, all guards down. By Naveen's observations, they are always the picture of professionalism at Edenbrook—at least to the public eye. But now, as they stand side by side, fearless and unapologetic in their affection, Naveen realizes his concern for Ethan was in vain.

“The reason for my visit seems pointless now,” he admits with a small chuckle.

Ethan raises his brows, unconvinced.

“Forgive the interruption,” Naveen goes on. Before he turns to leave, he offers them a barely restrained grin. “And for the record, Ethan, I would have chosen 'lamb chop.'”

Author’s Note: I finally wrote in my hc that MC calls Ethan babe ironically (and to annoy him) at first but they end up liking it as time goes on lol. 

Thank you so much for reading this! 

Thank you @aestheticartsx​​ for pre-reading!

[caramelcal]

Missing band practice, sickness and hugs

Request:  Okay hear me out, luke x reader fic where Luke is coming down with a cold but this stubborn lil boy is like “no it’s fine I can still go to band practice” but the reader is like “absolutely not” and then the reader forces him to stay in bed and rest up and even though he’s annoyed and stubborn at first, he very quickly becomes super soft and lets the reader take care of him. I feel like Luke is someone who, while soft, would be very protective and caring of his SO, so when the roles are reversed he’s reluctant about it, but end up loving being the soft one and enjoys being taken care of.

Word Count: 1.2k 

a/n: hi guys! i hope this is okay, also i’m pretty sure i shifted omg??? i’m very confused but i thought i would write this before i try again hahah. anyway have a good day/night, and i hope you enjoy lovelies x 

also i didn’t know what to call this, but i feel that it sums the story up. if you have any other ideas pls do lmk :)

Luke Patterson Tags: @rachmmb @phantompogues 

message me if you would like to be added ^

Masterlist

“Luke please, you can’t seriously think that you can go to band practice,” You almost beg with him, a frown on your face as you follow Luke around the room.

He’s determined, you’ll give him that, but he’s also sick. By now he’s picking up his guitar, and turns around, smashing into you. Grabbing onto him, you look him in the eyes. His eyes a little watery, not from crying but because he’s ill, his nose a little red from rubbing it.

“I’m going y/n, we have a gig soon and I can’t leave the band to practice without me,” Luke dismisses, trying to end the conversation there and walk around you but you have a firm hold on him.

“No,” You reply, shaking your head and making Luke raise an eyebrow at you, “Think about how dumb that is, Luke. Imagine you pass whatever you have on to any of the other band members, and they aren’t able to fight it off before your gig. All I’m asking is that you miss one band practice, you’ll get over this soon and I’ll look after you. We can stay in bed and watch films, I’ll get you some snacks.”

Luke continues to stare down at you, watching you as you speak to him, trying to persuade him to stay home. His grip on his guitar loosens whilst he goes through his options in his head. Your grip is still firm on his biceps and you can feel his skin burning, but it only encourages you to make him stay even more.

“It’s just these next few band practices are really important y/n, I can’t miss them,” Luke replies with a small sniffle, and a frown falls deeper on your face.

He watches as you roll your eyes, gripping onto his arms even more. He may be determined to go to band practice, but it appears that you’re even more determined to have him stay here, “Luke, stop being so stubborn and just stay home. You know you would beat yourself up if another member of the band got sick.”

Maybe he wouldn’t admit it right to your face because he doesn’t like to be wrong, but he knows it’s true. If a member of the band got sick before their performance it meant that they would probably have to sit the gig out, and it would be all his fault.

You watched on as Luke went over his options in his head. He only really had two and they were to stay home and get better or to go to band practice, get one of his fellow band members sick, and have an angry girlfriend.

“Fine,” Luke agrees hesitantly with a scowl on his face, but it only makes a smile start to form on your own face, “but only so we don’t have to cancel our gig.”

. . .

It was barely ten minutes later when Luke was swaddled up in a blanket, tissues and snacks by his side and the tv on some random channel. It was weird for him, he didn’t often find himself sick and this was the first time he had ever canceled band practice. He couldn’t deny he was in a bit of a sour mood, but it would surely pass soon.

It wasn’t only strange for him to be sick, but because you were caring for him. Often, it was the other way around. You found yourself sick quite a lot, catching anything and everything, even if you just briefly passed someone sick in the hallways. Luke actually found comfort in taking care of you sometimes, happy to know that he was helping you feel better whether it be with cuddles, some snacks, or medicine.

It wasn’t long before you came in, a tray in your hands. Your hair was up and away from your face in a messy ponytail, and Luke couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face at the sight of you.

Placing the tray down on the side of the bed, your hands wrapped around a hot drink that you passed to him with a smile, “It’s hot chocolate. Also, I phoned Alex and told him that you’ll be missing practice today, everyone is okay with it.”

He hesitantly took it from your hands and sipped on the drink, finding that it soothed him rather quickly. Your attention turned back to the tray as you spoke, “I brought you water too and some snacks. More tissues, some pills, and some throat soothers. They don’t taste the best but they work well if your throat is sore.”

“Thanks, n/n,” He replies quietly, making you look up at him with those e/c eyes that he loved, sending him a soft smile. He puts down the hot chocolate on the bedside table, taking the pills off of the tray and taking them with the water.

“I can make you that chicken soup you like, too,” You suggest, rocking on your heels slightly as you think of what Luke used to do for you when you were sick. This was your first time that the roles had ever been reversed and when it was you taking care of him and not the other way around and you wanted to make sure that he felt cared for.

He always showed you how much you meant to him, and made sure that you were extra comfortable when you were sick, so the least you could do was make sure that he was okay this one time. It filled you with a sense of duty, it may have seemed so dumb for others, but you wanted to make sure that Luke knew that he meant a lot to you and of course, you wanted him to get better.

“Thanks y/n, but it’s okay. I’m not feeling too hungry,” Luke shot you a small smile before his eyes turned back towards the tv. However, his attention isn’t on the tv long when you clamber into bed with him, wrapping your arms around his blanket encased body, “What are you doing?”

“Hugging you?” You reply, making it sound more like a question, your arms still holding onto him.

“You’ll get sick,” Luke says with a sniffle, looking down at your figure that hugged him even tighter. 

You scrunch your nose whilst you look up at him, throwing him a small smile when you talk, “No I won’t and even if I do, I don’t care, I just want to make you feel better.”

“Fine,” Luke grumbles, knowing that you won’t let him distance himself from you. You were in a weird mood today, he’ll give you that, he wasn’t sure if you were just determined or if there was a slight bit of bossiness there but it didn’t matter, because either way you were sure that your hugs were going to save Luke from his cold, and he let you because he enjoyed your hugs.

It wasn’t long before you both fell asleep, wrapped up in blankets and pillows. The morning sunlight was filtering into the room when Luke was next awake, you still wrapped in his hold. He smiled down at the sight of your face up against him, messy hair everywhere.

Maybe he had been reluctant to let you look after him, but the extra hugs and kisses weren’t too bad...

[euphoria-vmin7]

falling for you | jjk headcanon

pairing: dorky jock! jeon jungkook x shy! reader 

genre/warnings: F L U F F, headcanons, ALL BULLET POINTS, this isn’t even a real fic i just had this in my head and needed to post it, ITS ALL FLUFF, literally nothing else but cliche shit, jungkook is whipped, this is just him being a softie, kook is clumsy af in this, did i say FLUFF???

word count: 3,917 (okay so it wasn’t supposed to be this long-) 

-- summary: this is literally just dorky football player jungkook’s entire process of falling for the reader. he’s a clumsy mess in this sORRY

SO...

Your best friend would have to drag you to one of the football games because god knows it isn’t something you’d go to voluntarily. 

You’d much rather prefer to be curled up in bed watching Netflix or reading by yourself. The game is too rowdy, there’s barely any space in the stands, should anymore be said? 

But anyway, it’s been decided that you need to mingle with more human beings, and so you’re forced to stand in the middle of a bunch of shouting and sweaty people with a frown on your face. 

You’re shy. No other way to put it. You get easily embarrassed, especially when meeting people for the first time, which is why going to a football game and making friends is the last thing you want to do. 

Sadly, you end up going, and end up watching star player Jeon Jungkook sprint across the field like a bullet. 

It’s not that you were deliberately staring at him. It’s just he had that aura, you know? So many people knew him, praised him. And you understood why: the boy had everything. 

So you just watch the game, unknowingly getting more and more into it as you see the stakes rise in attempts to win. 

Your school’s team is extremely competitive, and having Jungkook was like the cherry on top. With perseverance and determination, he plays until the time is called and the team is cheering in victory. 

It was actually a fun time, you had to admit. But now that it was over you wanted to return to your own hobbies. 

It is late when you step into the library. There’s barely anyone there. 

The librarian knows you well, as you spend most of your time huddled up in one of the corners with a new book in hand. She waves to you and you shyly smile at her before beginning to browse. 

You take a seat at one of the tables and delve deep into the world of the novel you had chosen. After all, your favorite part of reading was looking through the eyes of someone else. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook doesn’t expect to need a book at this time of night. Only when Taehyung reminds him that he had a paper due the next morning did he rush over to get it. 

After a quick greeting to the librarian, he begins rummaging through shelves of books. He hates how long it takes for him to find what he’s looking for. 

He’s peering along racks when he notices you for the first time. 

He has to physically do a double take because wow

You’re cute. 

The way you’re sitting, knees to your chest, while biting your fingernail with some novel clutched in your other hand. And clad only in your college sweater that was far too big for you, hair up so messily that he could clearly make out stubborn strands that stuck straight up. 

Wow x2. 

Jungkook can feel his curiosity peak. How come he had never seen you before? 

He was sure he’d immediately recognize and remember someone who looked like you. He was curious. So curious. 

What was your name? How old were you? Were you in his year? In any of his classes? Did you know him? How did your voice sound? 

Instead of trying to find out the answers to any of the questions floating around in his head, Jungkook remains hidden behind shelves, browsing for far longer than necessary even after he had found what he was looking for. 

The next time he sees you, you’re reading again. This time, you’re just sitting outside, under one of the trees on the grounds. 

Jungkook doesn’t notice at first, but when he looks again he realizes that it’s you. Mystery girl from the library. 

The whole time he’s chatting, Jungkook’s eyes roam over to glance at you. Today you look different. You’re wearing a ruffled blouse and plain blue jeans. Your hair is up, but this time in a neat ponytail, only a few strands of hair deliberately framing your face. You don’t have glasses on today. Jungkook guessed that you probably had contacts. 

Jimin, one of Jungkook’s older friends, notices his attention drifting. 

“What are you looking at...oh it’s (Name),” 

Jungkook tears his eyes away from you to look at Jimin eagerly. “Hyung, you know her?” 

Jimin blinks. “Yeah she’s in one of my classes. Why?” 

Jungkook can’t hold back a smile. “Who is she?” 

So Jimin spends the next few minutes telling Jungkook what he knows about you. Your full name. How quiet you were, tending to keep to yourself. Your love for reading. Jungkook listens attentively, which Jimin can’t help but notice. 

About a month later, all of Jungkook’s friends are fully aware of his fascination with you. Though they find it hilarious that he has a crush on you but hasn’t spoken a word to you yet. He doubted you even knew he existed. But still, he loves to admire you from afar. 

Today, he and the boys are sitting in the library. Namjoon had said that he had some books to check out, and Jungkook had immediately begged to come with him in hopes of seeing you again. That had turned into all of them going, which had led to Namjoon’s studying plans being destroyed. 

“Just go say hi,” Taehyung sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

“Jungkookie’s shy,” Jimin teased as he listened to the boy’s protests. Jungkook grumbled in return before letting his eyes drift back over to you.

“Alright, I’m done. Let’s go,” Namjoon said, standing up. Jungkook looked up at him. “I can’t get anything done here. Which is ironic because it’s a place made for studying,” 

Jungkook can’t persuade Namjoon to stay, so he finds himself piling up his books in his hands and standing up to leave. 

“You seriously won’t say anything to her?” Jimin asked as they all began walking towards the exit. Jungkook shakes his head no as he stops to adjust the books in his hands. 

“I’m not ready,” is his excuse and Namjoon and Jimin chuckle before they turn to head out. Taehyung had disappeared somewhere but Jungkook didn’t think too much of it. 

Big mistake, because just as Jungkook was about to pass you, he felt a familiar hand harshly shove his back, the force catching the younger male by surprise. As a result, the books in his arms tumbled from his grasp right in front of your table. Jungkook’s cheeks burned as you tore your eyes from your novel and looked down at him in surprise. He would kill Taehyung later. 

To his utter horror, you put your book on the table and bent down to his level. His palms became extremely sweaty as you began collecting the books and he scrambled to do the same. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling so embarrassed it hurt. But all you did was smile at him and there goes his heart. 

“It’s fine, no need to apologize,” Jungkook smiles shakily at your answer and begins to pick up his stuff. In between, he glances up to look at you. This is the first time he’d ever seen you so close and he could now see the smallest details. The features of your face were so much clearer. He could clearly make out the shades of your eyes, the pores of your skin, every tiny detail that made his heart throb. 

He’s especially enamored by the way your fingers peak out from under your sweater paws. He briefly imagines what it would be like to hold them. 

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly as you hand him his textbook. Jungkook’s head shoots up to look at you nervously. What?! What was it? Was he doing something weird??

All he can muster is a dumbfounded “HUH?” in return and he mentally slaps himself at how stupid he sounds. 

“You fell, didn’t you? Are you hurt anywhere?” you ask and tilt your head to the side. Jungkook can feel his cheeks redden and wants to crawl into a hole. He conjures up his shaky and awkward smile and shakes his head quickly. 

“I’m fine,” his face pales at the squeakiness of his voice. Did his voice really just crack!?

You don’t seem to notice or if you do, you’re kind enough to not mention it. You simply flash him a small smile and nod. “That’s a relief,” 

It’s at that second Jungkook realizes who he’s talking to. That he’s actually gathered up the courage (even if it was by total accident) to talk to you, the girl he’s been so curious about. He’s nervous of course, but you just seem so sweet. And he wants to leave an impression. 

“I’m Jungkook,” he grins, confidently saying his name despite the way his palms are sweating. He wipes one hand against his jeans and balances his books against his hip. Your eyes dart to the side and Jungkook catches the way you begin fiddling with your sleeves. 

“(N-Name),” you mumble. He knows this already, of course. But he still nods along and manages to make his smile a little less forced. 

“Nice to meet you,” he grins and now it’s your turn to blush. Damn, you’re cute. 

“You too,” 

There is an awkward pause in the conversation and Jungkook takes it as his cue to get going. He feels satisfied though. This is the most progress he’s made with you. “Alright then, I’ll see you around (Name). Thanks for your help!” he waves and feels super proud of how confident he sounds. For once he sounds mature and not like a lovestruck teenager. You nod meekly as you look at his dazzling smile before you both part ways. 

Jungkook approaches the exit of the library where the three of his friends stand, watching your exchange. Before any of them can speak, Jungkook reels a strong fist back and punches Taehyung in the gut. The older male doubles over in pain as Jimin laughs loudly. Namjoon grins and looks to the youngest. “Where’d all that confidence come from?” 

Jungkook smiles bashfully. “I wasn’t really confident. I just-” 

“Say what you want,” Taehyung wheezes as he remains hunched over. “But you wouldn’t have said shit to her if it wasn't for me,” 

Jungkook glares at his friend menacingly. “Do you want another one? Because I have another fist available,”

Jimin simpers as Taehyung backs away, clutching his gut protectively. “So hostile…” 

“What did you say?” Namjoon asks as they head out. 

“I just introduced myself and said thank you for the help,” Jungkook shrugs. Taehyung clicks his tongue. 

“You should’ve just asked her out on a date,” 

“Hyung what’s it with you and stupid ideas?” 

“Just admit you’re still scared of girls,” 

The next time he sees you, he’s walking by himself. He notices you at the end of the corridor but you aren’t alone. A familiar male stands across you, chatting amiably. Before he can stop himself, Jungkook is sprinting down the hallway and jumping onto his back. Jimin grunts in surprise as one of Jungkook’s heavy arms sling around his shoulders. “Hey hyung~~” he sings with a blinding smile as he looks down at his friend. Jimin rolls his eyes with a disgruntled grimace and tires to pry the younger off of him. Jungkook then acts stupid and pretends like he’s noticing you for the first time. “Oh! (Name), how are you today?” 

You flush under his gaze and immediately begin fiddling with your sleeves. Though you try and relax because Jungkook is not as intimidating as you expected and he’s actually kind of...nice?

“Uh..I’m good, Jungkook,” 

Jungkook’s heart thuds painfully against his ribcage because wow he’d never thought his name sounded better than at that moment. His thoughts are all over the place. Between staying calm and cool, trying to address his feelings, and wondering what Jimin was doing with you, he was a mess. What should he do right now?

Jungkook and Jimin seemed to be having their own nonverbal conversation and you don’t really know how to react. Before you can politely excuse yourself, Jungkook turns to you. 

“So, are you coming to the game this Friday?” he asks with a hopeful grin and you bite your lip. 

“Oh um...actually I don’t think so,” 

Jungkook’s gaze drops and he pouts. “Why not?” 

Your eyes go a little wide at his whiny tone and how his confident expression had quickly changed into one of a kicked puppy. 

“W-Well,” you stuttered. “It’s n-not really my scene,” 

Jungkook’s eyes softened and Jimin nodded. “Too loud for you huh?” 

You grinned sheepishly. Jungkook smiled down at you. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to come if you’re not comfortable,” Jungkook smiles and you realize that this boy is actually being considerate. He’s not judging or teasing. He’s considerate. Jimin and Jungkook share another silent look before Jungkook turns away. “See you around, (Name)!” A small dimple creases his cheek as he grins at you and Jimin resumes your previous conversation, not noticing that you weren’t paying attention to him anymore. 

Jungkook shakes his sweaty hair away from his eyes as he jogs across the field. He nods at his teammates as they shout words of encouragement to each other and he surveys the field. He drones out the screaming coming from the crowd. He always does this. Though the cheers are motivating and nice to hear, he prefers to keep all of his attention on the game. 

At least that’s what he would normally do. But tonight, when his eyes drift over to the audience again, somehow he singles you out. There you are in the middle of the roaring crowd, looking awkward as hell as you grip your own arms tightly. Jungkook’s heart leaps into his throat as it registers that you have actually come to his game. And what’s even worse, is that you’re staring right at him. Jungkook trips over his feet a little as he tries to adjust his body to stand in some cool and nonchalant pose, earning a few glances from his team. He wasn’t even exaggerating. Your eyes are on him for the entirety of the game. And he can’t help but grin when he catches you doing your cute little clapping and cheering just a little bit louder as the game goes on. 

And though they did win that night, Jungkook had to admit he was not nearly as focused as he normally was. 

“Okay just be cool. Don’t stress,” Jimin clapped Jungkook’s back as the younger male took a deep breath and rubbed his palms together. 

“He’s right. There’s no need to be nervous. Just be mature about it,” Namjoon says, peering over his book from across the table. Jungkook looks back at Jimin, who gives him a smile and thumbs up. 

“Bet you 25 bucks that you chicken out,” Taehyung smirks and Jungkook flips him off. 

“You got this,” Jimin says, looking at Jungkook encouragingly after harshly smacking Taehyung. 

“You’re right. I got this,” Jungkook repeats determinedly, standing up and puffing his chest out. Taehyung claps with a rectangular smile as Jungkook’s eyes drift to his final destination. You. They’re at the library again today, and Jungkook decided that today would be the day he finally asks you out. You’re sitting at the same table as you were that night Jungkook had first met you. And today he’s finally ready to make his move. He stands up and collects his books in his hands. 

“Good luck, Kookie,” Namjoon grins, dimples denting his cheeks and Jungkook beams. He turns around and begins making his way to you. He’s so nervous he can feel palms sweating against the bindings of the books he’s holding. He feels like he’s hyper aware of everything. He focuses on you and it feels like it takes hours to walk to where you are. Everything about you is perfect today. You look at ease instead of self conscious and you’re once again immersed in some book. He finds that so endearing, how deep you fall into your reading. It’s like you wouldn’t notice anything around you so long as you had a book in your hand. 

It seems that Jungkook doesn’t notice his surroundings either. Just as he’s almost reaching you and placing a confident smile on his face, his boot gets caught in the leg of a chair and he goes tumbling. It’s like he's falling in slow motion and he’s already cursing himself for being so damn clumsy. Jungkook lands with a thud against the carpeted floor of the library, his books scattering in front of him. He hears a light giggle and he groans quietly as he pushes his face into the floor, hoping that it would swallow him whole. Familiar sneakers come into his eyesight and he peers up to see you crouching on the floor, a soft smile on your face. 

“Jungkook..” you sigh, shaking your head playfully. “You really need to stop falling,” 

The athlete’s eyes widen comically and he scrambles to get up into a crouching position, hurrying to help you clean up his mess of books. He awkwardly chuckles as his cheeks flare up in embarrassment. “I know right? Sorry (Name),” 

“It’s okay,” you smile and Jungkook notices the way your cheeks also turn a bit pink. But that happens every time you both talk. You’re just shy, which to him, is extremely cute. “Are you hurt?” 

“Nah,” Jungkook chuckles, the tensions in his nerves easing just a bit. “As you can see I’m always falling, so I’m kinda used to it,” He isn't prepared for the laugh that tumbles past your lips at his statement. Until now he had only heard you giggle or chuckle. But never a full blown laugh. He decided then and there that it was his favorite sound in the fucking universe. 

“Hey (Name),” he asks suddenly and you look up at him with a happy smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“What book are you reading right now?” Jungkook asks, biting his lip gently. His heart is pounding but for some odd reason he feels confident. Your eyes light up and Jungkook’s stomach flips. 

“The Fault in Our Stars,” you answer with a grin. “I’m re-reading it for the hundredth time,” 

Jungkook chuckles before he pulls himself up from the floor and offers you a hand. “Don’t tell anyone, but I cried reading that book,” Your eyes shine with interest and a bit of mischief as you take his hand. Jungkook mentally wonders whether you’ll be disgusted by how sweaty his palms are but he’s more focused on the fact that your hand is actually in his right now. 

“You cried reading The Fault in Our Stars?” your voice has a new tone to it, a playful and almost teasing tone that makes Jungkook’s heart race. 

“Oh come on,” he whines. “Everyone cries,” 

You giggle and nod. “I can’t argue with that,”

“Actually I was gonna go drop this off. Have you read it?” Jungkook asks, holding up one of his books. You peer at it and your eyes scan the title. 

“Hm I don’t think so. Is it good?” you ask curiously and Jungkook feels proud of how much he’s talking because he realizes that he’s just being himself. 

“Oh my god, it’s so good,” the taller male stresses, running his fingers through his hair. “You’ll love it if you like mystery,” You drop his hand and take a seat at your table. Jungkook watches your face for a sign and he mentally cheers when you ask him to sit next to you. 

“I love mystery!” you say excitedly. “What’s it about?” 

Jungkook’s eyes soften as he takes in your excitement. He relays the plot to you, soaking in every facial feature and memorizing every single comment you make. As you continue to talk more comfortably with him, Jungkook realizes just how amazing you are. His nerves dissipate completely as your conversation shifts to some of your favorite books. Then Jungkook is talking about his other hobbies like playing Overwatch with Taehyung and his secret obsession with dancing. Then you’re telling him all about how much you love visiting dog cafes and that the only type of exercise you’d ever do was jogging. Then Jungkook is telling you about how Gureum, his dog, loves his Jungkook’s older brother more than him. And just like that, conversations flow easily between you two and Jungkook wonders why he was ever so nervous. You’re perfect in every sense of the way and he had never imagined that you would be so easy for him to talk to. 

By the time you notice how much time has passed, the library is about to close. Jungkook politely helps your pack up your things and you walk with him to the counter as he returns his books. Jungkook glances at you with a fond smile, his heart beating comfortably yet still beating just a bit more happily for you. You’re still animatedly chatting with him about what kind of dog breed you want to get as the two of you step out into the night. 

“...but I can barely take care of myself so I don't think I’d be good at taking care of a puppy, too,” you giggle. Jungkook laughs as he slips his sweater over his head. 

“I’m sure you’d be able to figure it out, (Name). And I could help you. I have tons of experience with Gureum,” 

“You mean the same Gureum who loves your brother more than you?” you asked him teasingly and Jungkook’s jaw drops playfully. 

“How dare you?” he demands dramatically and smiles when you laugh. 

“Well, I should get going,” you sigh, tugging the strap on your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll see you later Jungkook,” 

Jungkook nods with a grin as you wave to him and turn to leave. But as he watches your back get further and further away, he realizes that despite having been confident and brave, he didn’t accomplish his goal yet. And Jungkook hated that. Feeling a fire run through his veins, he takes a leap of faith and jogs after you. 

“Hey (Name)!!” he calls out. You turn around and raise a brow in confusion. Jungkook gulps as his throat becomes dry and his nerves begin to tingle but he pushes them aside and in the most confident voice he can muster he asks: 

“Do you maybe wanna go out and get a coffee with me tomorrow?”

As soon as he says it his mind goes haywire thinking of all of the different and better ways he could've asked that. Your expression makes him even more nervous and for a split second he wishes that there was a way he could turn back time. But then a slow smile forms on your face and your cheeks turn a glowing shade of pink. 

“I...I’d like that,” you nod, shyly tugging on your sleeves and Jungkook‘s eyes widen. 

“W-What? For real?” he stutters and his brain is yelling at him to shut up and be cool but he can’t because he’s so damn relieved. You nod with a sheepish smile and he laughs. “O-Okay then I’ll see you tomorrow!!” 

“Yeah,” you grin. “See you tomorrow,” 

And all Jungkook can think about as he walks home is how you like your coffee, what books he’ll bring up during your date, and the fact that Taehyung now owes him 25 bucks.

.

.

.

.

[honeypwark]

[ I Look Like a Toddler ]

  ↳ Gone Days era

       ↳ Xiang is convinced to go to the waterpark. Minho threatens a teenager. Chan gives Xiang his shirt.

Note: This was an idea I got a little bit ago by someone who sent me an ask about some amusement park fluff. I know this isn’t an amusement park but I just felt like a waterpark would work better.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Chan taps his fingers on his desk to the rhythm of the song playing through his headphones. He nods, pleased with how it sounds so far. Suddenly, his chair begins to jerk around violently as though someone is shaking it. Startled, he grabs onto the arms of the chair. Felix shoves himself between Chan and his desk, laying awkwardly sideways in Chan’s lap. He’s talking but Chan can’t hear what he’s saying with his headphones still on.

He takes them off and hears Felix say, “-indoor waterpark with us!”

“What?”

“You have to convince Changho to come to an indoor waterpark with us!”

“Who’s going to an indoor waterpark?” Chan asks.

“Everyone!”

“Since when?”

“Since... now.”

“You’re coming, right?” a different voice asks.

Chan grabs Felix so he won’t fall off as he spins his chair around. Behind him are the rest of his group members, except Xiang, all looking at him hopefully.

“Looks like I don’t have a choice.”

The boys all cheer as Chan gives in.

“Where’s Changho?” Chan asks.

“I just told you-,” Felix ungracefully rolls off Chan’s lap and falls to the floor, “-You have to convince her to come with us.”

Chan lets Hyunjin and Jeongin pulls him up out of his chair and out of the room, “She doesn’t want to go?”

“Yeah,” Minho answers, “Jisung has been trying to convince her for an hour but she won’t budge.”

They stop in front of Xiang, Jisung, and Jeongin’s room. Chan looks at the door then at the members.

“Why do you think I’ll be able to convince her?” Chan asks.

“Because she actually listens to you,” Hyunjin answers.

Chan just laughs.

“Hyung, just try?” Jeongin pleads.

Chan’s will gives way under the maknae’s gaze, “Okay, fine.”

Changbin claps Jeongin on the back once Chan has turned and opened the door to enter the room. Sitting in the bottom bed of the bunk in the room is Xiang, an earbud in and her songbook in her lap. Chan shuts the door softly behind him.

“I already told you I don’t want to go, Han. If you keep bothering me I’m going to strangle you,” she says without looking up.

“You can’t do that, we kind of need him.”

Xiang looks up at Chan’s voice, “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey.”

Chan comes and sits at the end of Xiang’s bunk. The sit in silence for a few moments.

“You know why I don’t want to go,” Xiang says quietly.

“I do.”

“So you’re not here to convince me to go?”

“No, I am.”

“But-“

“I think going somewhere and having fun for a day is a good idea. Staying home while the rest of us go out won’t do you any good.”

“I haven’t gone swimming since Australia and the only bathing suit I have is that two piece.”

“You looked good in it.”

“Alright, you creep.”

“I am trying to be helpful!”

“Whatever you say, pervert.”

“Oi!”

Chan grabs Xiang’s leg and pulls her toward him playfully, no real goal in mind as he starts to play fight with her, tickling her side lightly.

“Chris, stop! Stop it!”

Xiang laughs happily and Chan decides that’s the best reward.

“See?”

Xiang’s laughter dies down, “See what?”

“When you’re with people you like and having fun, you’re happy.”

“Who said I like you?”

Chan ignores her, “If you isolate yourself and hide away from people who will help you, you’ll never get better.”

Xiang blinks up at Chan. He’s braced himself above her while still sitting with his feet on the ground, his hands on either side of her shoulders to hold himself an arm’s length away.

She swallows, “Guess you’ve got a point.”

“So you’ll come?”

Her eyes flutter down then to the side, “Fine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Xiang holds her arms tight in front of her, incredibly uncomfortable with the amount of skin she’s showing in her two piece swimsuit. She moves them to hug her stomach, trying not to look too out of place standing alone and waiting for her members to leave the men’s changing room and join her.

“Excuse me?”

Xiang turns as someone speaks up beside her. A boy smiles brightly at her, moving to stand in front of her.

“Hi, I noticed you standing alone and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to join me and my friends?”

Xiang looks behind her at where he gestured, seeing two other boys watching her and their friend intently. They smile at her and wave a little awkwardly.

“Um, thanks but I’m waiting for my friends.”

“You are? I’m sorry-“

“Changho!“

Minho comes up next to Xiang and slings an arm around her shoulders.

“There you are; we were looking for you,” Seungmin says, stopping on Xiang’s other side.

“Who’s this?” Minho asks without a hint of friendliness, sizing up the boy who approached Xiang threateningly.

“I’m... no one. Bye.”

The boy quickly scurries back to his friends and they all walk off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Minho jokes, turning Xiang around to walk back to the other boys.

“Yeah, my knights in shining armor,” Xiang elbows Minho so he lets go of her and wraps her arms around herself again. “He didn’t mean any harm; I could’ve handled it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seungmin pokes her side, “You’re welcome.”

Xiang flinches but doesn’t move her arms from covering her stomach.

“Okay, let’s go!” Hyunjin shouts excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Changbin repeats, louder.

The boys laugh and take off at a quick pace, not quite running so they won’t get yelled at by a lifeguard.

Chan catches Xiang’s arm, “Wait here.”

“What?”

He’s already gone before she gets an explanation, ducking back into the men’s changing and locker room. Xiang turns and watches the seven other boys head toward one of the water slides. She rocks back and forth on her feet as she waits.

Chan re-emerges from the locker room and walks up to her, “Alright, here.”

He holds out his shirt to her. She looks down at it then up at Chan.

“What’s that?”

“A tee shirt.”

“Why...?”

“I persuaded you to come, the least I can do is make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire day. Here.”

Chan bundles up the shirt around the neck and pulls it over Xiang’s head for her. Xiang pushes her arms through the sleeves and pulls her ponytail out of the shirt. Because Chan works out so much, the shirt is three sizes too big despite Xiang only being six centimeters shorter than him.

“I look like a toddler,” she says as she fixes the bottom around her legs.

“I think the word you were searching for is ‘thank you,’” Chan says.

“Oh, right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s go catch the others.”

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 19

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 4.3k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; pretty much the calm before the storm

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, July 21 

Nationals have left you feeling numb lately.

Although the thrill of playing at a state level and having the earnest training is more than enough, you find yourself eventually growing weary and desperately needing a break.

Which is why once your phone rings and the voice of your best friend comes through, you are extremely grateful to spend the entire evening rambling to her about all your experiences. However she poses a question you’re not sure on how to answer.

“So how come I haven’t met Yoongi yet?” Hyerin speculates, halting your sprawling words with her curiosity, “You’ve been together for a while now.”

“Oh.” You blink, “You’re right...I haven’t introduced you to Yoongi.”

“Do you guys have any upcoming games?” Your vision swings over to your brightly marked calendar, the next impending match being the following week.

“...I actually think our schedule will be free.”

“That’s great!” Hyerin exclaims, “You should bring Yoongi over and I can finally meet him. We could even drop by the school!”

“The school…?” Your voice grows reluctant and Hyerin senses it right away.

“It’ll be great Y/N!” She attempts to persuade you, but you know well enough that Hyerin probably has a more secondary purpose in doing so – namely getting you to come back at least once. 

Although you’re not hugely keen on suddenly reappearing at the school you had left months ago, Hyerin’s constant convincing eventually wears you down. You agree to her wishes with a sigh, wondering to yourself how you’re going to bring this idea up to the other party involved. 

***

Your grip tightens on the basketball, huffs of air leaving you. Your shoes roughly skid against the floor until you come to an eventual halt and push yourself off the ground. The ball ends up hitting the backboard of the basket, bouncing against it and then descending into the hoop. With a sigh of relief, you catch it and lazily dribble, eyes only perking up at the sight of a figure jogging over in your direction.  

Yoongi leans down to grab a towel, whipping away a sheen of sweat from his forehead. You awkwardly linger behind him, biting down on your lower lip. 

You were in the middle of nationals – the most important time of the year for your team. It truthfully wouldn’t take much to simply slip away for a single day, but you’re at such a crucial point in time that you find yourself backtracking on the promise you had given your best friend.

A loud whistle interjects your thoughts, your view drifting over to Namjoon who announces that practice was done for the day. You instantly spin around, abruptly making eye contact with Yoongi as he downs a water bottle.

“I–“

“Good work today Yoongi!” Namjoon pats Yoongi’s back, clearly happy with his performance as the latter simply resumes to quenching his thirst, “Training’s going to get harder in these next couple of days, so make sure you’re all prepared.”

You nod as Namjoon smiles at the two of you, eventually detaching from Yoongi and gesturing for him to follow. A dejected sigh slips out from you, but it’s quickly replaced with surprise once Yoongi tells Namjoon that he’ll leave in a minute.

Eyes widening, Yoongi turns around and furrows his brows. 

“Did you want to tell me something?” His entire interest is pointed towards you now and there’s a faint ray of pink creeping onto your features from the sudden attention.

“I uh, well,” You aimlessly play around with your hands, “My best friend has been wanting to meet you and she thought it would be a good idea to visit my old high school together...”

You dart a glimpse at him, wondering if he was contemplating the idea during the time of the nationals. To your complete surprise though, Yoongi isn’t taken aback with it.  

“Sure, when do you want to go?”

Your eyes are huge, “Really?”

Yoongi shrugs, “Why not? It’ll help to get away from this,” He gestures around to the exhausted set of individuals in your team making their way back to their dorms after yet another prolonged day of practice, “and you said she’s your best friend?”

You nod and Yoongi softly smiles, “Then I’ll definitely need to meet her.”

A huge smile scatters across your features from his response. Here you were petrified about the whole prospect’s ill timing, but Yoongi seems to understand your intentions and you can’t contain the excitement of Hyerin finally getting to meet him.

***

You teeter-totter on your heels, glancing down at the way your bright crimson dress sprays out and frills at the bottom. There’s a black bag tightly snugged underneath your shoulder, the long deceiving locks on your head pushed back into a high ponytail.

Your hair bounces as you sharply turn, the door in front of you revealing your best friend's characteristic smile. 

“You made it!”

You grin, letting her tug you inside, “Wow Y/N, dressing up when you’re with Yoongi, huh?”

A cheeky smile is on Hyerin’s lips but you sheepishly shake your head, “It’s not like that.”

Truthfully, you dress like this more for yourself. It's a bit of a selfish request on your behalf, but since you’re usually adorned in the same jersey and pair of shorts everyday, you eventually discovered how much you’ve missed having a decent choice in between your appearance. However, the fact that you’ve especially put more effort into it because Yoongi will be joining you…perhaps isn’t too far fetched.

“Is it too much?” You abruptly question, wide eyes left deliberating as Hyerin chuckles and shakes her head.

“I think you look nice.” She pushes out a chair for you to sit on, something you’re grateful for when the heels slip out of your feet. Hyerin joins you on the opposite side of the table, planting a hand on her cheek and staring at you with eager eyes.

“Well? What is he like?” The abrupt interest amuses you, eyes soon lost in thought.

“I guess……” You jut out your bottom lip, searching for the right answer, “...cute?”

“Cute?” Hyerin laughs, “Really?”

“Yeah…” You laugh alongside her, wondering to yourself why out of all words – that’s the one you feel describes him the best, “Don’t say that to him though, he won’t like it.”

“So he’s cute but doesn’t like to be called cute?” Hyerin mulls over it and raises her brows, “Didn’t you say he’s the Captain of your team? And that he’s really strict with you?”

You instantly nod, “That’s all true, but he has this side to him that’s very…soft?” A giggle escapes you at the weird word usage again, “Like he’s only gets strict with us if no one’s listening during practice or if we’re all doing something wrong, but behind that Captain side of his is someone who really cares and just wants the best for me.” 

You sheepishly laugh, ignoring the flush of pink spreading over you. It’s strange to put your image of Yoongi into coherent sentences, but you can’t ignore the amount of times he’s been there for you and in turn how much great admiration you have for him. You catch a glimpse of Hyerin’s expression in the midst of your thoughts, noticing she has both her hands planted on her cheeks, gazing at you as if you were telling her the greatest story in existence.

You blink, startled from her undivided attention. She laughs at your reaction and you meekly sink back down into your seat, growing bashful. A soft knock resonates against the door, and Hyerin instantly rises from her spot. 

A smug smile curls at the corner of her lips, “Looks like I get to find out for myself~”

You quickly get up and smooth down your skirt as Hyerin approaches the door. Quietly following behind her, a deep voice echoes through the halls.

“Oh, so you’re Yoongi!” Hyerin exclaims and from the corner of your eye, you see her arm move as if to shake his hand.

She whirls around, “Hey Y–“ You appear closer to the door, still leaning against the wall.

Surprise spreads through you when Yoongi glances in your direction, dressed in a loose white-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hands are wrapped around a bag which he seems to be in the midst of offering to Hyerin. The look his eyes send you throws you a bit off guard, a shy ray of pink brimming on your features.

Yoongi steps in and Hyerin closes the door, spinning around and gesturing for you to sit down on her couch. Planting yourself down, you smile when Yoongi settles in beside you and gives you a sheepish grin, his darting eyes and fumbling hands giving you a clear indication of what he was currently feeling being there at the moment. 

Hyerin soon pokes her head out and sits opposite to you, a giant smile on her lips. However, her eyes then land on Yoongi and for a moment, you could have sworn you could see some displeasure spark in them.

“So.” She begins, “I’ve heard you’re the Captain of the team Y/N’s on.”

Yoongi nods, fisting his jeans in his hands, “I met her during try-outs.”

She hums, “How long have you guys been together?”

Yoongi frowns, glancing in your direction when you begin to backtrack too. It wasn’t something the two of you were really keeping track of.

“A couple of months now?” You warily stare at him and he nods, content with the answer before darting his eyes back at Hyerin.

Hyerin hums again, crossing his legs and keeping a curious finger against her lips.

“When did you find out about Y/N being a girl?”

“I found out before she got selected for the team. I also knew that she was wearing a wig to disguise herself.” You pout when Yoongi grins at you and Hyerin’s eyes light up.

“You knew about that atrocious wig?” 

Yoongi tilts his head and pursues his lips, “I wouldn’t say it was atrocious but strange. Her natural hair is prettier.”

A profuse blush accompanies his words and Hyerin grins.

“What else do you like about Y/N?”

“It’s hard to say,” Yoongi gazes at you and for some reason, you automatically shrink from the attention, “I think there’s too many things.”

“She’s a really determined person.” Hyerin mentions and Yoongi nods.

“When I found out she was disgusting herself as a guy just for basketball...” He chuckles, “I think I first hand saw that determination up close.”

She hums, “But she can be really too shy at times.”

“It adds to her charm,” Yoongi’s eyes turn tender and at this point, you kind of want to just disappear. “And also makes it fun to tease her.”

Hyerin jumps in her seat, “Right?!”

You watch them continue discussing all your little quirks and traits like they were talking about their favourite person in the world and you can only gape at how much Yoongi seems to be enjoying it. But that’s when Hyerin leans forward, becoming daring with her curious inquiries. 

“So you’ve guys only kissed, right?” Your eyes are wide, frozen solid in place. 

“For now.” Yoongi says with the most deadpan expression you’ve ever seen on him. His answer baffles you, his eyes briefly meeting yours and leaving you speechless. You only snap out of it when he lets out a low snicker, breaking into full laughter as he takes in your startled appearance and you resort to sighing at his teasing.  

“Well then.” Hyerin relaxes, leaning back. She crosses her arms, eyes sharply narrowing.

You’re taken back to the interrogation style she was first using on Yoongi before becoming comfortable, the intensity feeling increased this time around.

“I guess it’s only fair for me to ask this now.” Hyerin states, drawing all of your attention, “do you, Min Yoongi, intend on marrying Y/N in the future?”

A cluster of coughs violently escape your body. Hyerin passes you a bottle of water, something you down right away before exchanging wide eyes between her and Yoongi.

“I was being serious.” Hyerin mentions, “I only want Y/N to be happy in the end, so I have to check.”

“We’re in high school.” Yoongi brings up, as if stating the obvious. You hurriedly nod, backing up his words.

“I-It’s way too early for that….”

Hyerin isn’t satisfied though, “Let’s say some time in the future – not now.” She sharply interjects, eyeing both of you intently, “You’re near that age. What about then?”

You shake your head, “That’s really far too off Hyerin, I don’t think–“

“It’s not impossible.”  Yoongi mutters, staring at the ground, “At least, that’s what I think.”

Your eyes are the widest they can be, skin utterly red at this point. Hyerin notices the exchange and bursts out laughing, resulting in you being even more flushed.

“Well, I got my answer.” She wipes away a tear and gets up, “Come on. I think that’s enough questions for now.”

You nod, warily placing the glass in your hand back on the table. Yoongi rises from his seat the same time you do, occasionally taking glimpses at the window outside. In the meanwhile, you can only stare at him in surprise  as you wait for Hyerin, a small unmistaken smile rising on your lips. 

***

It’s bizarre being in the same place you left months ago.

Hyerin’s excited when she shows you around the classrooms and the old cafeteria again, reminiscing on the moments you would spend whispering to each other when you were bored in class to eating lunch together. Although you truly loved the school and enjoyed your time being with your best friend, it almost seems like you’re revisiting a stepping stone that was in the way of what you really wanted to do – and it becomes even more apparent the moment you enter the school’s gym.

It piques your immediate interest, recollecting memories of wandering into it during late hours just to practice playing basketball. It also reminds you of the time you had been stuck with the girl’s recreational team, the rules of the game and all the seriousness being replaced with somber and lazy playing instead.

It’s something Yoongi notices as well, “The gym is really…small.”

“We’re not really a school that focuses on sports.” Hyerin mentions, grabbing a basketball from a nearby cart and tossing it over to you, “Y/N used to practice here though.”

As your hands trace against the rough texture of the ball, you can only huff at the dress and heels you’re wearing. It’s the first time you sincerely wish to be wearing the jersey and pair of shorts you’ve gotten accustomed to and Yoongi smiles when you push off your shoes and throw the ball towards the hoop.

The ball instantly sinks in and Hyerin victoriously exclaims, to which you smile and continue dribbling. Yoongi shifts over with crossed arms, eyeing your best friend.

“They don’t have a competitive team here?” He whispers, still observing you knab another basket.

“No, only recreational ones.” Hyerin sighs, “They gave the title of being competitive to the boys team since the girls team was basically non-existent for our school.”

Yoongi hums and Hyerin gestures towards you, “Y/N was a part of the team for a while but she hated it. That’s when she started practicing on her own though it still wasn’t enough.”

“I can tell.” Yoongi says right away, “Y/N’s too good at basketball to not play competitively.”

Hyerin nods, but then a chuckle leaves her, “It’s actually funny, it seems like just yesterday she was telling me about how amazing Bangtan Sonyeondan’s record is and their statistics. I didn’t think she would want to go to such lengths to be on the team.”

“It was surprising.” Yoongi recollects the moment he had found out about your secret, a million scenarios running through his mind as to why you would do it only to be answered in the simplest way – your love for basketball.

A smile quirks on Hyerin’s lips, “Even more surprising that she’s dating the captain now.” There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, “So did Y/N confess first?”

Yoongi pursues his lips, sending a glare in her direction, “You just want me to fess up.”

“Hm? So you were the one to take her out on a date first?” Hyerin smugly smiles and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“She told you?”

“Of course she did, she’s my best friend.” Hyerin retorts the obvious and Yoongi sighs, eyes still lingering on you, “Besides, you’re around her more these days so I don’t know what’s going on with her right away.”

Yoongi raises a brow, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you have to be my eyes.” Hyerin crosses her arms, voice lowering as she stares at Yoongi, “Don’t let her get hurt, okay?”

Yoongi scoffs, stuffing his hands in his jacket’s pockets, “Do you even need to ask me that?”

“Hey, I have to know.” Hyerin presses, needing a clearer answer. “Do you promise?” 

Yoongi glances in her direction, giving her a sincere look. 

“Promise.”

“Good.” Hyerin spins around, ogling at your effortless dribbling around the court, “Damn, how are you still so good at playing basketball in a dress?”

You giggle, mid-way in between taking a shot, “It’s honestly a lot harder than it looks.”

“Here, let me try!” You hand Hyerin the basketball and she takes a flimsy shot. The ball hits against the rim and falls right back onto the ground within seconds. Yoongi snorts, and she glares at him.

“I don’t need any extra sound effects Captain.” She attempts to take another shot but the ball flies up into the air and then descends down, barely reaching the basket. You and Yoongi share a glance, clearly trying to conceal the laughter from brimming up.

Hyerin lets go of the basketball in exasperation, letting it roll as the two of you are still keeping your laughter at bay. The ball continues to roll until it hits a pair of feet.

You glance behind Hyerin to see where it could have gone, the bright smile you were holding instantly dropping.

“Y/N?” The ball is in his hands, his eyes wide and astonishment written over him, “You came back?”

You grimace from his tone, sounding more accusatory than pleasant, “Still didn’t get accepted into a competitive team, huh?” He dribbles the basketball with a shrewd grin, “That’s tragic.”

Hyerin grows furious at your prolonged silence. She’s prepared to march right up to this guy and let him have a piece of her mind, but she ends up being too late.

Yoongi reaches out his hand, “Can we have the basketball back?”

The boy frowns, staring at Yoongi intently until the recognition snaps into him.

He completely ignores his request, “Aren’t you part of that team…uh Bangtan something?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, instead he swiftly retrieves the ball in the midst of his dribbling and hands it over to you.

“It’s actually Bangtan Sondeyeon.” Yoongi states, “Currently the leading team in this year’s nationals.”

His eyes widen and you could have sworn Yoongi had smirked for a moment, but it disappears as he nonchalantly strolls back to your side of the court.

Hyerin smiles, “Have fun with your losing team!” You watch as he turns with a scoff, shoulders tightened before leaving the gym.

“Idiot.” Hyerin mumbles underneath her breath.

“Who was that?” Yoongi ponders.

“Well our very own lovely competitive team is always lurking around here in some corner.” She sighs, “They're all just annoying and used to bother Y/N a lot back in the days.”

Yoongi glances at you surprised and you shrug, “Not the nicest of people.”

“I bet they haven’t even made it to nationals with their bogus attitudes.” Hyerin crosses her arms and whirls around, “Anyways, you guys want to head out?”

You nod, following her out.

***

“Are you going back soon?” Hyerin questions, standing in front of the door to her house.  

You nod, “We have practice early in the morning for our next game.”

Hyerin hums, “I see….”

“Oh!” You abruptly face her, “How have your parents been? Last time we met, I was getting ready to move.”

“They should be back home by tonight. I was going to actually ask if you wanted to stay over…”

Her voice grows quieter and you pursue your lips. Although you wouldn’t have normally hesitated, you know this isn’t solely your call to make.

“How many practices do we have this week?”

Yoongi darts his eyes up, “A couple. Are you planning to miss them?”

“Just one.” You smile, “Hyerin wants me to stay back but I’m not sure if missing tomorrow’s practice will be great.”

“You’re not going to be here for a while, right?” Yoongi shrugs, “I’d say go for it. Who knows when you’ll get time like this again?”

 You hum, eyes lighting up as you whirl around to face Hyerin with a smile, “Well looks like I’ll be staying for the night.”

There’s a huge grin on her features and she rushes to unlock the door, ushering you inside. Yoongi asks if you can bring his bag back and you leave to retrieve it from the house, leaving the two of them alone at the door frame.

“It was nice to finally meet you Captain.” Hyerin remarks, reaching out her hand for him to shake, “It’s reassuring to know Y/N has someone like you around.”

Yoongi softly smiles, reciprocating the handshake, “It honestly goes both ways.”

Something flickers in Hyerin’s eyes, quickly darting to see you still occupied. Her voice drops down into a whisper, a questioning gaze directed at Yoongi.

“If you could describe her with one word, what would you pick?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that, his attention being whisked away when you abruptly dart your head up from the couch with a huge smile. “Found it!”

He chuckles, leaning closer to Hyerin.

“Cute.” He watches you head over, “Really cute. But don’t tell her that, she’ll get too flustered.”

Hyerin’s eyes are astonishingly wide by the time you make it over, handing Yoongi’s his bag. He leans forward, softly pecking your lips before tugging the bag onto his shoulder.

“I’ll see you at the next practice.” He whispers gently, making his way down the front door’s steps. You remain frozen in place, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly with your best friend nearby.

Hyerin laughs at your naive eyes, clasping onto your wrist and dragging you inside. 

***

Your best friend sighs, rummaging through her fridge, “Well at least now I know who this Yoongi guy is that you kept talking about.”

“It seemed like you two were getting along pretty well.” You warmly smile, seated at the kitchen counter and watching her with intrigued eyes. 

“Of course.” Hyerin takes out a huge stack of sliced meats, presumably for dinner, “Any boyfriend of my best friend is a friend of mine.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Probably helped because you’re very similar as well.”

“Similar?” Hyerin freezes, staring at you in astonishment, “Please, I’m much better.”

You giggle and Hyerin closes the fridge, clearly exhausted from hauling out all the ingredients currently layered onto the counter. “Alright, I got everything my mom wanted.” She grabs a glass of water and hands you one as well, plopping down onto the seat beside you, “Now, we relax!”

You smile and take a sip, “So when are nationals ending? Are they running the games till the end of the school year?”

“No, it’s supposed to end before then. I think it’s mandatory for all the different teams competing this year.”

Hyerin hums, “What about graduation then? Any plans for that?”

You pause, wondering what she meant by that until it finally dawns onto you, “Right…graduation…”

“Did you forget? Or did the whole transferring to another school mess that up for you?”

“No, you’re right but–“ You press your lips together, features tense, “I’m not the same Y/N.”

Hyerin widens her eyes, placing her water on the counter in realization, “Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you about that. What are you going to do Y/N?”

“I can still technically graduate…”

But everyone only knows about me being a boy.

“…I-I don’t think I can see anyone after I do though…”

Fear fills your eyes when you glance up at Hyerin. Truthfully, you had been so ecstatic with the prospect of playing competitively at the moment that you hadn’t thought through the ramifications your secret will bring. Although leaving the school shouldn’t be a problem because you’ve only had a mere identity switch, the relationships and friendships you’ve created will all surely become jeopardized once you leave.

“What’s the next step from all this then?” Hyerin whispers, placing her arm on your shoulder, “What’s going to happen after graduation?” 

You don’t answer, only one solution swimming around in your mind that could potentially work. However, you just wonder what type of impact it’ll end up causing.

Is it time you no longer keep your identity a secret?

[originalhybridloverfics]

You Have Failed This Challenge

Summary:Felicity and Oliver take some unexpected time off to get breakfast with friends and show how a challenge is called.

A/N: This was a one-shot request by @rennywilson. Hopefully, its close to what they wanted.

I would like to put in as a side note that I do not know Ava, Kara or Lena's characters that well. I do not watch Supergirl. I stopped watching legends after season 2 and I stopped watching Flash after the bodyswap crossover.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Felicity apologized, taking a seat across from Ava and Iris.

Oliver took the seat next to her.

Everyone had gathered in Central City to spend some rare time with friends and Oliver and Felicity had agreed to meet up with Barry and Iris, Ava and Sara, Kara, and Lena.

By some miracle, everyone was in town at the same time, and things were quiet in the streets.

“Always running late,” Barry commented.

Iris smacked his arm and signaled for a waitress. “We were waiting for you to get here.”

“We didn’t know what you would want,” Ava said.

“That’s fine. We already ate.” Oliver said.

"Why did you go ahead and eat breakfast if we were meeting up here?" Kara wondered.

“Oliver likes to fix me breakfast in bed,” Felicity said.

"You trained him well," Lena smirked and Felicity laughed.

“Ollie, you cook now?” Sara grinned.

“I dabble,” Oliver said as the waitress arrived at their table.

Felicity snorted, earning looks from everyone and a smile from Oliver.

The waitress took everyone’s orders, Oliver and Felicity ordering just coffee for themselves.

“I have a hard time believing Oliver Queen can cook,” Barry grinned. “Didn’t you grow up with a housekeeper or something?”

“Raisa,” Oliver said.

"Why do you assume just because someone has money they can't cook?" Lena questioned.

"Statistics," Eva interjected.

“Oliver is an excellent cook. He gets any better and I’m gonna need a new wardrobe.” Felicity reached out, taking his hand. “It’s better than some restaurants.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Ava. “Sara can’t cook to save her life. I doubt Oliver could.”

“Hey, I can cook,” Sara protested.

“Microwaving doesn’t count,” Oliver stated, earning a half-hearted glare from Sara.

"Kara can cook," Lena offered. "I have no need for room service."

Kara smiled over at Lena. "You would like anything I would make full you even if it tastes awful."

"True," Lena smiled over at her girlfriend, reaching out to brush Kara's hair over her shoulder.

“Barry’s a great cook,” Iris smiled over at Barry.

“Who's better though?” Sara smirked. “I’m really not that bad myself.”

“Not bad?” Ava interjected. “Not bad. You can do a lot of things but cooking isn’t one of them.”

“Really?” Sara shot her a look in disbelief and Ava leaned forward kissing her in apology.

Felicity smiled. “Oliver is basically a five-star chef, I don’t see anyone at this table being a better cook than him.”

Oliver smiled at Felicity’s praise, he tugged her to his side and kissed her neck.

“I’m gonna have to disagree, Barry, is an unbelievable cook and he had a great teacher in my dad,” Iris said.

“Oh,” Barry leaned forward. “Why don’t we find out who is the better cook? Me or Oliver?”

Oliver leaned forward. “Prepare to lose, Barry.”

“I’m gonna prove to all that I can be just as good as anyone at this table,” Sara said, sending a smirk everyone’s way.

"I'm in," Said Kara eagerly. "This sounds like this could be fun."

“Where is the challenge going to take place?” Felicity questioned. “And when?”

“Tomorrow,” said Iris, sending Barry a look of encouragement. “We’ll meet at noon with the prepared dishes and we’ll hold a tasting to see who wins, with Ava, Felicity, Lena, and I acting as the judges.”

Everyone agreed and enjoyed their meals.

After leaving the cafe, Oliver dragged Felicity around to the market with the best fresh vegetables and fruits.

It took hours before Oliver was satisfied, throughout the day Felicity pestered him about what he was going to make but he insisted on not telling her until tomorrow.

They returned back to their suite. Felicity settled onto the counter as Oliver put everything away.

Their suite at their hotel was very much like an apartment with a full kitchen, bedroom, and living room.  

“You know you could always find out what Barry, Kara, and Sara plan on cooking,” Oliver suggested putting away the last of the groceries.

“Isn’t that cheating?” Felicity asked, sending him a sharp look.

“Don’t look at it as cheating,” Oliver moved over to her, moving in between her legs and tugging her to the edge of the counter, wrapping his arms around her. “Look at it as being prepared.”

“And I’m supposed to help you with this?” Felicity fisted her hand in his shirt.

“Yes, your Felicity, the one person I rely on more than anyone,”

“Stop, trying to sweet-talk me,” Felicity slid her hand up his chest and curled around his neck and tugged him down, till they were breathing the same air. “If you’re trying to persuade me you should kiss me.”

Oliver’s eyes smoldered. She never had to tell him to kiss her.

His mouth closed the last remaining distance between them.

Felicity matched his every move as the kiss grew deeper, their passion being felt through every nerve ending.

Felicity and Oliver forgot everything but their desire for one another.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Oliver was up first thing in the morning but Felicity absolutely refused to get out of bed so early when she was still exhausted from their activities the night before.

Not even the smell of fresh coffee in the morning was enough to get her up.

She fell back asleep, her muscles relaxing into the mattress.

However later she woke up to the pleasant feeling of Oliver, kissing up her naked back, his hands smoothing over her arms.

She let out a low hum. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get up.” Oliver placed a kiss behind her ear.

“I don’t wanna. Too tired.” Felicity rolled onto her back and her eyes immediately took in Oliver's naked chest. She tugged him closer, her hands sliding over his abs and lower to the waist of his pants, her hands starting to push at them.

“I thought you were tired,” he tugged at the sheet covering her, pulling away from her body.

“I’m never too tired for you.” Felicity arched up, pressing her body against him, encouraging him to touch her, be with her.

Oliver pressed his mouth against hers, surrendering to their desires.

                                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity hurried and pulled on a sundress as Oliver went to get the door. They had just gotten out of the shower when the bell ranged.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair and pulled it up into her signature high ponytail. She slipped on her glasses before leaving the room to join Oliver at the door to greet their guest.

Oliver was closing the door behind Ava, Sara, Lena, Kara, Barry, and Iris.

“Morning.” Felicity greeted. “Who wants coffee?”

Everyone but Sara and Oliver raised their hands.

“Okay, I will get on that.” Felicity moved toward the kitchen, leaving Oliver to entertain their guest.

“I’ll help.” Iris squeezed Barry's hand before following her into the kitchen.

“Do you know how Ava, Lena, or Kara like their coffee?” Felicity wondered as she found four coffee mugs in the cabinet.

“No, but I would just keep it simple,” Iris replied. “Did we come too early?”

“No, why do you ask?” Felicity asked as she poured four cups of coffee and slid them down the counter toward Iris for sugar and cream.

“Your hair is still wet from the shower.” Iris shrugged. “Plus, your dress is inside out.”

Felicity looked down at her dress quickly and to her embarrassment Iris was right. “Frack, okay, yes, we were just getting out of the shower when you guys got here,”

“We,” Iris repeated, smirking.

“Get your head out of the gutter West.” Felicity wagged her finger at her.

Iris laughed. “Why don’t you fix your dress and I will finish up the coffees.”

“Thanks.” Felicity smiled. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

                                                ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

When Felicity rejoined them Oliver and Barry were already trash-talking one another. Ava looked slightly annoyed and Sara was smiling in amusement. Iris sipped at her coffee, scrolling through her phone, Kara and Lena were whispering to one another with sweet smiles.

Felicity took the seat on the arm of the chair Oliver was sitting in. “What have I missed?”

“Oliver and Barry arguing about who's going to win.” Iris looked up from her phone. “All the ingredients Barry and Sara are gonna need for their dishes was already brought in and the competition will be underway in an hour.”

Felicity let out a yelp as Oliver tugged her onto his lap without warning. He handed her coffee to her without once stopping his immature back in forth with Barry. “Barry, you are going to learn I can cook with the best of them.”

“We’ll see, Mr. I grew up with a Russian housemaid.” Barry snarked.

“She has a name. Raisa and she’s family.” Oliver defended with a scowl but his eyes gave away his amusement.

“Is this going to go on the entire hour?” Ava asked, pulling Sara’s hand in her lap and interlacing their fingers.

“Yes,” Sara answered. “It’s entertaining to watch. Like a ping pong match.”

"Reminds me of Alex and me when we were younger," Kara smiled.

"They do have that big brother, little brother vibe going," Lena commented.

Felicity settled back against Oliver, sipping at her coffee.

Oliver’s arm tightened around her, settling on her hip, his thumb brushing against her skin.

The hour passed in the same fashion. Barry and Oliver argued. Sara and Felicity got to talking about Detective Lance and Ava, Lena, Kara, and Iris started talking about work.

The women all decided to leave Barry and Oliver to their childish arguing.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Felicity growled as the smell of food filled the air.

“Mmm,” Iris hummed. “Whatever their cooking smells good.”

“They shouldn’t all be preparing their dishes at the same time,” Ava said in disapproval. “It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Something’s bound to go wrong.”

“Probably but if Oliver can salvage my horrible cooking he can salvage any disaster in the kitchen that comes his way,” Felicity said confidently.

“You’re serious about him being a chef-level cook?” Iris asked in surprise. “I thought you were just saying that for Oliver.”

“Nope, Oliver is an amazing cook,” Felicity said. “You’ll see. Wait, does that mean you were just praising Barry’s cooking for his benefit.”

“I mean, he’s good but not restaurant good,” Iris said.

"What about Kara?" Ava wondered looking at Lena. "Can she cook or do you encouraged her to protect her feelings.

"I don't need to protect Kara's feelings," said Lena. "There really is nothing she's not good at. She's perfect."

“That's sweet." Felicity complimented. "What about Sara?” Felicity turned to Ava. “What is Sara’s cooking really like?”

“She’s passable,” Ava admitted. “But out of the two of us, I would prefer to handle the cooking.”

Iris and Felicity smiled and nodded along.

“Sara’s lucky then,” said Iris. “I can’t cook. Everything I cook tastes bad.”

“At least it’s edible,” said Felicity. “My cooking is likely to poison someone.”

The women laugh, sharing amusement in their shared failures in the kitchen, well Iris and Felicity’s case.

                                              ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

“Sara, what are you doing?” Oliver asked dumbfounded. “You don’t put pineapple in omelets.”

Sara shot him a glare. “Do I tell you how to cook? No, I don’t and it’s a Hawaiian omelet. Now shut up and make your plain old pancakes.”

“They are not plain. Their banana and chocolate chip and Felicity loves them.” Oliver defended.

Sara rolled her eyes.

“Would you two stop bickering? I’m trying to make grill cheese over here.” Barry complained, nudging them out of his way.

“Anyone can make grilled cheese.” Sara scoffed.

“Not Felicity,” Oliver muttered, his eyes shooting to the doorway making sure she didn’t hear.

“Hey, don’t mock my grill cheese.” Barry whirled around. “Like pancakes and omelets are so much better?”

"Keeping it simple isn't a bad thing," Kara interjected.

"Says the woman who is just making french toast," Oliver replies, staring at her toast with distaste, always a food critic.

Their arguments escalated slowly, voices growing.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Iris, Ava, Lena, and Felicity could hear their voice growing louder as they bickered like children but stayed out of it until suddenly the smell of burnt food filled the air and the smoke detector started blaring loudly.

Felicity rushed into the kitchen to see Sara waving her hands frantically through smoke from the stove. Barry grabbed for the smoke detector and Oliver soaked a sizzling pan in the sink. Kara was setting burnt dishes on the counter, her nose crinkled at the smell.

“What happened?”

Iris, Lena, and Ava burst into the room behind Felicity.

“It was Sara’s fault!” Barry and Oliver accused.

“Me? You're the two who couldn’t stop bickering with your constant need to best the other!” Sara defended. "And what about Kara?"

"I didn't do anything?" Kara protested.

Felicity walked further in the room, taking notice of the burnt food dishes on the counter. She scrunched up her nose. “If I didn’t know better I would think I was the one who has been in the kitchen cooking breakfast.”

“Very funny,” Oliver said but he couldn’t help but smile at her.

Felicity tugged on his shirt, bringing him closer to her. “Oliver?”

“Hmm?” Oliver was suddenly distracted by her close proximity, he could hear Iris telling Barry to leave the smoke detector alone and Ava complaining about the smoke, Lena complained about the smell of burnt food, but it all faded away with Felicity pressed against him, looking up at him sweetly.

“You have failed this challenge,” Felicity told him, her eyes shining with laughter.

Oliver opened and closed his mouth before burying his face in her neck laughing.

Their friends and their failed cooking challenge were forgotten, he pulled back and kissed her soundly.

A/N: I hope this was enjoyable.I am struggling to write through some writer's block but I'm trying to get through it.

Tags: @rennywilson @mariestark @omglovechrissie

If I forgot to tag anyone I apologize I am trying to get back into the swing of things writing wise. Feel free to remind me about tags. 

[minnochu]

Don’t Make Me Say It.

Officer!Yoongi x Reader Spin Off 

(A/n) I have finally finished my Officer!Yoongi spin off that I promised because I fell in love with his role in Interference and just want to give him some love. Hi. I spent a long time thinking up this one, and it’s kind of a mess and weird to be honest, probably rushed ‘cause I wasn’t about to pour my guts out for a whole chapter fic (sorry), but I do hope you enjoy it! 

 This mildly references Interference, but it can be read as a standalone if you don’t want to read it lol. Link to Interference if you dare!!

*Warnings: Death, mention of suicide and postpartum depression, mention of organ trafficking, mention of drugs, non consensual touching and kidnapping, explicit language, reader’s boss smacks her, a customer also smacks reader’s ass too.

Word Count: 17.6k

.

“Don’t you think you need to settle down with a woman of your own, hyung?” 

It’s a question Taehyung and now Jimin asks him. He always blows it off as something he doesn’t necessarily need when he’s married to his job and sleep. As he finds himself doting on Jimin’s new found relationship with a past and now solved case, the latter thought maybe it was time to keep the elder from constantly nagging them like a grandmother. Not like his girlfriend had any complaints to his and Hoseok’s unannounced visits.

“Like I said!” He drawls groggily, his voice heavy with sleep after he was promptly woken up, “Something like that isn’t for me.” 

“That’s what I said too hyung,” Jimin sighed exasperatedly while pinching the bridge of his nose, “But you were the one who pushed us together, and plus… you could use a little happiness in your life.”

The blonde scoffs at this, kicking his shoes up onto his desk nonchalantly, promptly ignoring Seokjin’s protests at the action. Closing his eyes, he crosses his arms behind his head and leans back in his chair, “I’m already happy enough seeing all your stupid faces everyday and sleeping when I’m not burning my eyes at the sight of homicide cases.”

“Wow I’m flattered,” Seokjin grits as he shoves the younger’s feet off the desk, “Sheesh, maybe a girl will teach you some manners.”

“I treat Jiminie’s girl just fine, don’t I?”

“Still, we don’t want our precious Min Yoongi dying a bachelor who only knows how to sleep and solve cases,” Hoseok teases as he slings an arm around his partner, “How ‘bout I set you up on blind dates like we did with Jiminie?”

The latter shivers at the thought of his past blind dates that ended up with his meeting with Jungmi. It was a relief to finally be rid of her and her conniving father and Jungkook too. The rest of the men seem to share the same thoughts as the second youngest.

“Considering your taste in women?” Yoongi clicks his tongue as he gives his partner a judging glare, only to tilt his head to the side when Hoseok launches a half hearted punch at his face with a pout.

“That hurts hyung!” 

After much pestering however, Yoongi ended up agreeing to a month of blind dates if the guys would finally stop bugging him about a girlfriend that he honestly didn’t have any need for. He didn’t even know why it was so important for him to have one. 

It’s a drag, are his only thoughts as he meets up at cliche date spots like the park, a cafe, or a restaurant. And the dates themselves? He wouldn’t call them back. He didn’t even bother trying to learn their names. Perhaps this was payback for setting up Jimin on those blind dates, ultimately resulting in him meeting Jungmi.

“Ah, Yoongi-ssi, do you mind walking me home? It’s quite dark…” one bold woman asks after the eleventh blind date so far. He wondered how many women his coworkers knew, but he decided he wasn’t going to see her ever again anyways so he might as well be civil for once. 

The woman tries to start small talk but he promptly ignores her when he hears noises coming from the alleyway that they happen to pass by. It’s almost pitch black, but he can make out tall figures surrounding a fallen and petite form on the ground. He almost tries to ignore it, but the officer side of him turns sharply into the alley without any explanation to his very confused date whose legs are shaking wildly in fear when he’s engulfed in the darkness the further he ventures onward.

“Call the police!” Is all he answers back with.

And from there on, he spots you among the crowd of men standing above your fallen body. He scrutinizes your messy hair and odd fashion that reveals your midriff, chest, and shoulders where your scarlet flannel is only held together by one button with the sleeves slid below your shoulders. The fashion of kids these days, he thought flippantly.

“Hey, it doesn’t seem very fair to gang up on a little girl,” he grunts as the thugs turn and glare at him venomously. Sizing them up silently, he wondered if he should take the girl and make a run for it or get his hands dirty.

“Who the hell is this asshole?” One scoffs, but the others are way ahead and already lunging at the detective. 

Yoongi effortlessly dodges and deflects the attacks, watching in the corner of his eye if you were in danger. But he’s surprised to find you holding your own ground against two of them. He momentarily forgets the men in front of him when he narrowly dodges the thrust of a knife. Narrowing his eyes, he redirects another thrust before twisting the man’s arm behind his back. Taking the knife, he pushes the thug harshly into the other guys. 

By the time the cops have arrived, Yoongi has incapacitated them to keep them from trying to get away when he didn’t have any cuffs on him. 

“I didn’t need your help,” you pout, looking up at him with a glare. Crossing your arms over your chest, he has to keep himself from pointing out your very visible and very black sports bra. 

“I couldn’t leave a child to fend for herself,” he shrugged, looking you up and down with a judging look.

Puffing out your cheeks, your eyes narrow at him, “I’m not a child!”

“Sure you aren’t,” he shrugged, catching your punch in his hand and pulling you forward and to the side to make you stumble over your feet. He quirked an amused upturn of his lips at your obvious annoyance, “Get home safely, kid.”

“I’m 20 dammit!” You pout then and even now as you storm into your apartment with your eyebrows furrowed, bruised fists clenching around plastic bags of ingredients for the next few meals or so. 

The place is rather cheap, the paint chipping off here and there with dark water stains discoloring the ceiling. The carpet is stained and flattened with age along with the drab furniture that completes the shabby appearance of the home.

“Unnie?” the familiar voice of your little sister, Hyemi, calls from the hallway. Her head peers around the corner before her whole body jumps out and she’s bounding towards you for a hug. “Welcome home!” she greets happily, going on about her good day at school and how much she missed you. 

“Yeah?” You smile softly, your sour mood simmering at the sight of your cute little sister who had just begun her first year of middle school, “Tell me all about it when I finish up dinner okay?”

“Dad’s not home again for dinner?” she asks as you pull your messy hair into a ponytail and move your conversation to the kitchen.

Shaking your head, you grimace as you begin preparing the items for dinner, “I don’t think so… I’m sorry..”

Sorry. You didn’t even know what you were apologizing for. For the absence of your father? For the living conditions you both had to endure because of him? It’s not that he was a terrible father… You could only blame it on the sudden bankruptcy his business fell into, which put your family in great debt. 

Your mother? She left. Father? He promised you both he would work to create a better living for you. Which meant going the whole day without seeing his once happy face around the house. And now? The little times you caught him sluggishly returning home in the middle of the night, his face was tired. It didn’t look as youthful as it did when you were still in high school. 

Must be why you changed. You mulled over how perfect your grades were in high school until debt and your parents’ divorce threw you in the deep end and persuaded you into delinquency. Instead of going to college like your past self wanted to, you went straight to working any kind of job that would hire you. Currently, you worked at a restaurant during the day, and a bar as a waitress during the night. 

The money always went to groceries, your father, and a little something for Hyemi you always saved on the side.

Despite all that’s happened, you still love your father dearly. Right now, all you wanted was for Hyemi to be safe and well fed. If something happened to her, you would surely go on a rampage.

After your sister has finally gone to bed, you’re left alone to your thoughts as you clean up the dishes and refrigerate the leftovers. You think about hours prior when that man interferes with your run-in with thugs outside the bar you worked at. Icy blonde hair, pale skin, and brooding dark eyes. Shivering, you placed a hand over your chest to ponder over the thumping in your chest.

Everything diminishes once you hear the door open and close, the rusty hinges whining as your father grunts, followed by a prompt thud of his weight hitting the couch.

“Welcome back,” you greet from the kitchen doorway, smiling as he casts you a weary smile back. 

“Sorry I’m late… again,” he chuckles forlornly, slumping against the back of the sofa and resting his head against the cushions. “I’m really trying my best… we’re so close to being free, but it’s like there’s not a lot of time left.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lean your head against the wall as you observe the fatigue in his body… his eyes. 

“I know… we know.”

“Send my regards to Hyemi, it’s been really busy at the company, I’m sure she must really despise me for leaving you two by yourselves all the time.” He laughs, but it’s hollow. There’s no emotion, and you know that he’s so worn down from all the stress of paying back the people who’ve helped his company stay alive after its sudden fall.

“Or… you know… you could say hi before you leave again… or even leave a note,” you suggest nonchalantly as you move to take a seat beside him, “I’m sure she would rather hear it from you than through me... She only misses you, you know.”

He stays silent at that, and you know that in the end you’ll have to tell Hyemi once again that he loves her and whatnot. It just wasn’t special that way. Not at that young age. 

“I love you both, with all of my heart and soul,” he blurts out, turning to look at you with a crestfallen expression. Why? Why did he look like that?

You open your mouth to ask him why the confession all of a sudden when he pulls out two tickets from his coat pocket and practically shoves them in your face.

“One of my employees gave these to me,” he explains as you eye them quizzically, “A coupon to a really nice restaurant in town… You and Hyemi should go out and have some fun for the day, eat out and maybe watch a movie!”

“Sure… thanks.”

If only you had the confidence to tell him how much you wanted him to join you both. A family night out. Something you all haven’t been able to do since the company crumbled and your mother left. 

.

After that chance encounter, Yoongi couldn’t focus. He wonders if that girl is alright. He wonders if that’s a normal thing for you. Which makes him all the more worried that thugs are targeting you. 

“So… how are you liking the blind dates?” Hoseok asks as the former drives to the site they were supposed to search through, Jimin and Taehyung to arrive later on after their meeting. 

“Disgusting,” Yoongi drones blandly as they arrive at a worn down apartment complex. The place is shady, and a sore thumb in a place like Seoul. “Couldn’t you guys find interesting women?”

“Don’t be like that! Please tell me you at least texted back one of them!” Hoseok grins with a nudge to his partner’s side, but the male isn’t amused by him and shakes his head as he heads up the stairs to the second floor. He observes the dirty stucco and the peeling paint on the hand rails, frowning at the kind of place Namjoon sent them to.

“If I say yes, will you stop pestering me?” He asked as they arrive at the apartment, caution tape barricading the door along with two officers that nod their head in greeting.

Hoseok shrugged, obviously knowing that he wouldn’t, “Only if you’re telling the truth.”

The elder can only sigh as they enter to find other police officers already inside and taking notes. One of them perks up at the two’s entrance and hurry over. Over the former’s shoulder, Yoongi can make out a complete disaster of the room. The apartment was already worn down as it was, but everything was in a disarray from the couch being flipped over to the television smashed to pieces on the cruddy brown carpet to the blood staining the said flooring.

The liquid was not yet crusty brown upon further inspection after the officer filled in him and Hoseok about the neighbors reportedly hearing the firing of a gunshot. 

Hoseok searched the rooms, which must’ve been just as trashed, while Yoongi stayed in the living room to inspect the male victim. He had to be in his forties, no older than fifty, dressed in work clothes that were drenched in the pool of blood coming from the obvious gunshot to his head. Unable to touch the corpse just yet, he suspected the blow from a close distance, wondering if they did so in order to extract the bullet to keep from any evidence being left. 

Notably, dried tracks ran down his cheeks from the corners of his eyes. Crying? Was he threatened? He wondered why he found the last expression of this man turning out to seem more and more melancholy and simply tired.

Were they looking for something, he wondered? Burglars? Why did they go so far as to delivering a clean shot to the cranium? 

The messy hair reminded him of you. It just so happened to be the same hair color, and he wondered why he was suddenly thinking of you. An insignificant little girl he just so happened to help out despite your stubborn claims that you were just fine on your own.

“Miss, we cannot let you in!”

“This is my home! You can’t possibly be telling me I can’t go in!” A voice raises with ferocity, reminding Yoongi of a certain someone. 

“St-still… w-wait!”

He turns right at that moment to see you with fire in your eyes as you evade the grasps of the officers to head straight towards the sofa where you ignore Yoongi to set your eyes right then and there on the corpse.

The plastic bag of leftovers and a meal you and Hyemi picked out to bring home for your father is left abandoned on the ground when you set your eyes on your fallen father.

“D-dad?”

Well fuck. Of course it had to be your dad, making it all the more complicated for Yoongi. What a drag, he thought as he stood from his crouching position to halt your approach.

“What do you think you’re doing,” you grit, fists clenching as you stare helplessly at your father, “Get out of my way.”

“I can’t let you, you’ll only contaminate the evidence, and that includes your father’s body over here,” he explains calmly, biting his lip when he notices the traces of tears that gloss over your eyes at the severity of the situation. He sends a look to the officers to let him handle it, their shoulders relaxing after you pretty much shoved the guards out front to the side. 

Tears blur your vision as you ball your fists and recklessly launch a punch at his face in fury, but he catches it easily just like the night you both met. Your eyes travel between Yoongi’s apathetic eyes to the tear-dried face of your parent. Why were his eyes so cold? Why did he look as though he were belittling you for acting the way you did? 

Your knees shake and buckle, your weight folding underneath you as you crumple to the ground, wrist still held high from his hold. You refused to cry in front of him and all these officers. How could you face Hyemi? How could you have left your father alone at home? 

“I love you both with all my heart and soul.”

It clicked now. You figured he knew his time was up at that time. He intentionally drove you and your sister away for the day. But who would be behind this? Who wanted him dead?

You felt dizzy thinking more about it, stomach churning even more the longer you stared at his lifeless body. 

“H-hey!” Yoongi blinked in surprise when you fell face forward, his hands catching you by the shoulders. 

“You know her, Yoongi?” Hoseok asks as the blonde hooks his arms under your legs and back. 

Fixing your head against his shoulder, he gives a brief shrug, “More or less.” Bowing his head at the officers, he promised to return to aid in investigation later on once he deals with you. Outside the apartment is your little sister, who gasps at her older sister’s unconsciousness. 

“I-Is she okay?” She asks worriedly, her eyebrows furrowing, “What’s happening to our apartment? Is my dad in there?”

Hoseok seemed to catch on as he bows his head towards her, “Let’s move to our car, we can explain when we get your sister settled down.”

Yoongi allows his partner to be the one to deliver the news as you slowly regain consciousness laying down in the back seat of their car. He watches as you slowly sit up and glare at him leaning against the trunk of the vehicle. 

“Morning kid,” he says, causing you to frown even more at his nickname for you. 

“I told you I’m 20. I have a name too you know! It’s (Y/n)!”

He snorts at that, “20 with the behavior of a child.”

You turn away with a pout, letting him win this bout. The older man takes this chance to fully look you up and down, noticing the nice cropped blouse you were wearing along with high waisted jeans in contrast to your scandalous casual attire the other night. You both couldn’t have known, he thinks as Hoseok tries to comfort the younger sister. 

“So what now,” you grunt, leaning your head against the seats, “My apartment’s overrun by officers, there’s no way we’re getting in and having a good night’s rest just like that.” It didn’t appear like it hit you yet, but he can only assume that you were putting a facade, in contrast to the sniffles coming from your sister.

Suddenly, Yoongi felt something familiar with this kind of situation. His eyes jumped from you to Hoseok to your sister. This was all too familiar. He wondered why when he spotted Jimin and Taehyung making their way towards them. 

Fuck. This is just like Jimin’s old situation with his now girlfriend. 

“Any relatives, or friends you could stay with?” He asked, trying to avoid offering his place. His heart sped up at the thought and he cursed it for that. 

You shrugged, frowning as your sister sobbed and cried her eyes out, “Hyemi probably has some friends who would offer her a place, but me… not really… as pathetic as that sounds. I don’t even have enough money to stay too long at an inn.”

“Why not at Yoongi’s place then?” Jimin mentions, nudging the elder knowingly, “He and Hoseok would gladly offer you a place until your apartment is thoroughly inspected and cleaned up!” 

Yoongi glares at him for bringing up the idea, and the younger is aware of it as he ignores it to snicker at his distasteful frown with Taehyung who catches on. 

“With this old fart?” You snort, “I’ll just sleep on the streets then.”

“That wouldn’t be too advisable,” Hoseok cuts in, guiding a shaky Hyemi into your open arms to comfort her, “It’s only an assumption that this was an intentional killing. The files read that your father is well known businessman whose company went downhill until another organization stepped in to help pay, someone might be behind this... who knows if you two will be targeted as well.”

Yoongi gives a stern look towards the younger, who turns a blind eye.

“Yeah! It’ll be much safer with these two!” Taehyung grins, winking at the smirking Jimin. 

When it’s finally decided that you two would stay at their apartment, Yoongi vowed to get back at them later on. They exchanged teasing smirks, only for Yoongi to harshly pinch the closest one - Taehyung, who jumped and pouted at him. 

“You’ll all pay later,” He promised menacingly, eyes darting back to you and your sister waiting patiently in the car.

Hoseok grinned, “Not unless you’re thanking us for setting you up with the pretty older sister that you seem to already know!~”

“Now doesn’t seem like the best time, does it?” He harshly shoots back, remembering the despair written all over your expression back in the apartment.

The younger shrugs, keeping a lighthearted smile before turning to the other two more serious now, “We’ll take the two back then, we’ll be back soon.”

On the drive home, Yoongi wants boiling lava to burn him alive right then and there. They left a small crack in the divider glass, but all that can be heard are Hyemi’s faint sniffling. Even more than that, he can feel your burning gaze staring straight into the back of his skull.

“I’m gonna hurt you later,” he whispers harshly to his partner as they lead you and your sister into their apartment. 

“Make yourselves at home, I’ll try to see if I can retrieve some of your clothes tomorrow if they’re not too busy clearing the scene or looking for evidence,” Yoongi dismisses when you both stand awkwardly in the middle of their living room, “We’ll be heading back now.”

“W-wait!” You call out almost automatically, catching him by his elbow. He turns to regard you with a raised brow and you seem to deflate at that, “If there’s anything you find out about my father, please tell me.”

He wonders how you go from fiery and rowdy to timid and vulnerable. As much as he hated to say it, it was quite cute ignoring the situation— what? Frowning at his inner thoughts, he merely nodded and left them to their own devices as he and Hoseok went on their way after leaving you with their phone numbers in case of an emergency.

“You thought she was cute back there didn’t you?” Hoseok grinned knowingly.

The elder shot him a glare, but not denying it either as they drove back to the crime scene. 

“You guys are dumb, I’m only letting them in because they’ll be in possible danger otherwise. Plus I can avoid blind dates now since we’re busy being bodyguards.”

“No need for blind dates when you’ve got Miss (Y/n).”

“Shut up, I already told you, now’s not a good time for her,” he frowned as they made their way back to the apartment.

“So you would’ve considered if the time was right?” Hoseok concluded more than asked.

He shrugged, obviously knowing he couldn’t deny it in front of his partner. 

“Forensics took the body to look closely and search for any fragments left from the bullet if any,” Jimin fills them in when they arrive to only find the taped outline of the victim, “The bullet went straight through, whoever did this must’ve wanted to keep any evidence from being left.”

“The place is utterly ransacked, I don’t know if that’s to create confusion, but it just looks like they were trying to find something.”

Yoongi kept quiet, crouching down near a toppled over bookshelf. The contents were spilled haphazardly across the carpet, including picture frames, books, and photo albums. He didn’t touch but he can make out pictures of you, your little sister, and your dad. One particular frame contained a peculiar photo of a woman, possibly your mother, but she looked the splitting image of Hyemi, nothing like you. He bent down and squinted when he found another piece behind it from the end that was broken. 

Sliding it out carefully, his brows furrowed at the different woman in the photo that held onto an infant while smiling brightly. That had to be you, he thought, recognizing small features that reminded him of you. As embarrassing as it seemed for him to already recognize it.

He waved it off as not looking similar to your sister.

A mistress he supposed. 

He took the previous picture as well, pocketing both to research later for facial recognition. 

“We’re just about done for the day, you two head home and we’ll report back to Namjoon,” Taehyung says as they walk back to their cars, “Don’t wanna leave your lady friend alone at home.”

Yoongi frowned at his teasing, “She’s just someone I met. Besides, she tried attacking me when we met.”

“So she’s feisty?” Hoseok smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at him. 

“Can you do me a favor then?” He asks, ignoring his partner, “Find out what you can about these two women.”

He hands Jimin the two photos before nodding a farewell. Hoseok follows after him curiously, “What was up with the two photos?”

“I found them by the bookshelf, one of the photos was hidden behind the other, there’s a different woman in the hidden one,” He explained as they drove home, in the corner of his eye he could tell Hoseok was pondering over the new information, “I was thinking it could be a mistress, the two look very similar to their respective mothers if I’m correct that the father had an affair. Or he could have remarried if something happened to (Y/n)’s mother.”

“It’s all just speculation,” He shrugged as they started towards their apartment, “Hopefully Jimin can find something.”

Turning the doorknob to their apartment, he pressed inward and felt a tsunami of savory scents crash into him as soon as they entered. He blinked as he noticed only Hyemi was sitting on the couch watching television.

“If you’re wondering, unnie is cooking dinner!” she cracks a small smile when she greets them respectfully. Although her eyes were still quite puffy and swollen from earlier. Yoongi noted how so much differently she acted opposed to your feisty firecracker actions. Was that just a way to protect yourself, he wondered.

He nodded and made his way towards the kitchen to see you standing by the stove. You look over your shoulder and he’s almost spellbound by the sight of you cooking in his kitchen. Until you ruined it by shooting him a glare and turning away with a grunt.

“Hello to you too,” He raises an eyebrow, ignoring your attitude to step behind you and look over your shoulder, “Kimchi fried rice?”

“I hope you don’t mind me going through your fridge, Hyemi got hungry so I thought I’d make dinner… as thanks for letting us stay here...” you trail off the last part but he hears it anyway, watching you mix in chicken.

“It’s nothing, it’s just part of the job I guess,” he shrugs, turning away to grab a drink from the fridge. As he does this, he doesn’t realize the pout that puckers your lips. 

Just a job, you think blandly as you finish up the meal and start plating it.

“You’re right,” You smile half heartedly as you place the platter on the dining table.

“Anyways, I have a question,” He asks, sitting down at the dining table as you take out bowls and utensils, “Where’s your mother?”

“What about her?” You turn suddenly, squinting at him suspiciously, “She left us when my dad fell into deep debt and started a family on her own, that’s all there is to it.”

Yoongi wondered which you were referring to. Hopefully Jimin could figure out the women in the pictures, it’d make it easier on him what kind of questions he’d ask. He didn’t want to jump the gun and assume what happened.

“Right, sorry… just asking for any other connections to your father.”

“I guess,” you shrug as you call out for Hyemi who comes running along with Hoseok.

The latter gasps, “Wow! Haven’t had dinner this extravagant before! Besides from Jiminie’s girl of course.”

You frown at that, looking at him weirdly, which he catches with a knowing grin.

“We’re not that great at cooking, only simple dishes, other times it’s just takeout,” he explains, “Man! This must be how Taehyung and Jimin are getting by now, those two cannot cook for the life of them!”

“Jimin and Taehyung?” You repeat, thinking back to the apartment with the other two detectives, “Are they the two that were at the apartment today?”

“Yup, I guess you could say they’re like us, Yoongi and Jimin are both stone cold, while Taehyung and I are more wild I guess,” Hoseok grins back, “That being said, Yoongi is Jimin’s adoptive brother.”

Yoongi shoots Hoseok a glare, wondering why he was spilling details about him to them when they were just gonna be on their own once again after all has been solved and taken care of.

 When dinner was finished and you were washing the dishes, he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“I’ll be heading over to your apartment tomorrow again, I’ll see if I can find some clothes for you to wear.”

He waited for a response, but you merely continued your washing silently. Hoseok had offered to wash, but you said it would only be fair for you to do it as thanks. Pursing his lips, he decided to leave it at that and turned on his heel to leave.

“Take me with you,” you finally said, turning around to hold his gaze, “I have to work anyways.”

“Work?” He repeats with a raised brow.

“Yeah, remember the alley you met me? It’s near the bar I waitress at… usually I’d go work at a restaurant, but tomorrow’s my off day.”

He’d just learned about your father’s debt just now, he didn’t realize that meant you had to shoulder it as well. You probably wouldn’t want him to pity you, but he felt a sudden admiration for you taking care of your sister. It reminded him of his younger self finding Jimin that eventful day and taking him in. 

“Okay, but we’re gonna have to stop by the precinct.”

He was about to leave when it seemed everything was said and done, but he stopped himself when he turned to see Hyemi lying down on the couch. 

“Do you two want to use my bed? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You turned at this but looked away with surprise to see him staring right at you.

“I-it’s alright, plus who would want to sleep in your bed you pervert. Who knows what you do on your bed!” 

He squints at you, raising his eyebrows at your accusation. Scoffing, he turned away, “Don’t make any assumptions about my sex life, suit yourself then.” 

“Who would??” You shriek, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks at the image that creates for your wandering mind.

“Ugh I hate him!” You mutter under your breath as you return to the couch with blankets and pillows that Hoseok had lent to you. Hyemi glances up to you wearily, lifting herself to take a pillow and a blanket from you. “How are you feeling?”

The younger smiles weakly, her eyes falling to her lap when she feels the threat of tears building at her eyes. Her teeth dig into her quivering lip as you wrap your arms around her and tuck her head against your neck. 

“I can’t believe…” 

You hush her solemnly, laying your head back against the couch to blink back the tears that have welled at your own.

Yoongi turned back towards his room with a grimace. You didn’t need pity. But he can’t imagine the anguish and sadness that you and your sister must feel, abandoned by your mother, and now your father had been possibly murdered. It just wasn’t something you or your sister deserved to experience, especially with Hyemi that young of an age and having to now grow up without both of her parents. 

.

“Be safe!” You call out the next day as you and the detectives drop off your sister at her school. Despite unable to retrieve clothes for the day, the school had allowed her to wear her physical ed uniform until the search in your home was done, unless you pay for a new uniform but that was unlikely. It appeared as though you were back to being well put together, Yoongi noted as you hug your sister briefly.

Hyemi only smiles as she nods, Hoseok promising to pick her up when she’s done. Her expression is tired, but she still attempts to put on a show to mirror the strength of your facade. 

“I miss having school friends like that,” you sigh as you watch Hyemi disappear behind the school gates with a friend.

“Did you even have friends, with that attitude of yours?” Yoongi scoffs playfully as he begins driving towards the precinct.

You glare at the back of his head while Hoseok tries to diffuse the situation, “I did actually. I had good grades at that time! That was all before… that happened…” Your voice trails off and Yoongi wonders if he went too far. It seemed apparent now that your father’s debt had something to do with your personality. Could it also have been the estrangement of your mother? If the one you were referring to was in fact your mother. 

“Just sit at my desk and be quiet, don’t talk to anyone except Hoseok,” Yoongi says when you all arrive at the precinct. You frown at this but quietly do what he says when all eyes are on you.

“Dang Yoongi, what are you doing bringing your girlfriend to work?” Taehyung snickers as he enters from the break room. 

The elder glares at him, although the other officers in the room join the younger in snickering and teasing the usually cold man.

“Oh hyung,” Jimin perks up at his sudden appearance, beckoning him over, “I found information on the pictures you found.”

“Pictures?” You ask, “From my apartment?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi grimaced, motioning for you to come over. He couldn’t keep anything from you after all, you would’ve argued it as your right to see if it had to do with your family. “I hope you don’t mind, I picked up a couple of pictures I found in order to find some kind of connection to your father.”

“Not at all,” You blinked, wondering what he was getting out until he peered over the brunette to stare down at the two pictures with noticeably two different women. You’ve never seen the picture with the woman holding an infant before, and it was way too obvious that the child was you. “Where’d you get this?”

“I was looking around and found a broken picture frame, that picture was hidden behind the family portrait,” Yoongi explained, tapping on the second picture with the unknown woman, “You’ve never seen it before?”

You shake your head with a frown, brows furrowed in confusion, “I’ve never seen this woman ever in my life… but I do know that that is me she’s holding.”

“How ‘bout this woman?” Jimin ask, pointing to the woman you called your mother, the one you claimed to have left you and Hyemi.

“Our mother,” you point out with a shrug, “She’s off on her own with her own family now.”

“Right, well this woman…” he points at the one holding the infant, “I found her file, but not as a homicide case. Long time ago, her body was found in the river. It appeared she drove her car into the water, according to witnesses, and drowned, there were no signs of foul play so it was deemed a suicide.”

“There was no records on her, her only reported family is a younger brother… mm Hong Suk, I believe.. I have yet to look up his files at the moment.”

“And the other?” Yoongi asks, peering at your expression, but you hide your emotions better than usual.

Jimin holds up the family picture, “No criminal history as well, she seems to be living in a rural town outside of Seoul.”

“Do you have the address? I would like to ask her some questions.”

Despite you not wanting to see your mother, Yoongi insisted on bringing you with him and Jimin to the new home of your estranged mother. It felt weird standing outside the front door with the two donning their uniforms as they wait for someone to open the door. Footsteps resound behind the door, followed by clicks of the locks before an older woman opens the door. You recognize her immediately as the woman who left you and your sister.

“(Y/n)?” She asks, her voice surprised as she regarded the two officers politely, “What’s going on?”

“Ma’am, if we could have a moment of your time to ask you a few questions, that would be great,” Yoongi says after bowing his head respectfully, “Of course, you’re not obligated to answer if you wish not to… but it would be very beneficial considering this concerns your former husband who was found dead in his apartment the other day.”

Her eyes widen at this, looking at you for affirmation. You can only look away sadly, rubbing your palms together when there’s nothing more to be said when Yoongi said it all already. It’s not like you had anything to say to her anyway for leaving your family to join another. You just couldn’t let that fact go, even as she invites the three of you in for some tea to talk over the details and questioning.

“I see…” She starts, sitting down across from the three of you while pouring cups of freshly brewed tea for you all, “It must’ve been hard on you and Hyemi, huh?”

“Don’t act like you care about us,” You snap back harshly, looking away from her saddened smile. You could care less if she pitied you. Even now, you wondered why Jimin and Yoongi wanted to question her. It didn’t seem like she knew anything other than the fact that he was going into bankruptcy. 

Yoongi clears his throat audibly, slicing through the tension between you both.

“Lastly, do you happen to know the woman in this photo?”

You mother’s eyes widen in recognition, holding the picture of the unknown woman and child, “Wow, haven’t seen this photo in such a long time, you looked so cute then, (Y/n).”

You squint at her, not knowing what she meant. Obviously, the child looked like you, but you had no recollection of who that woman was.

“You and your mother.”

Standing up suddenly, your eyes widen at her, “What?”

Her lips pull into a guilty smile, eyes staring right down at the picture, “This woman’s your mother.”

“How can that be so?” You urge on, biting your lip at the sudden news.

“Before your father and I got married, he was seeing another woman who bore his first child. As much as I tried despising you after her death, I just couldn’t even after I gave birth to Hyemi. I could only love you even more,” she explained, “I didn’t know too much about that woman, but she had such a big effect on him… it made me jealous how even after her suicide he cared a lot for her… I could only choose to drive myself away from him when I just couldn’t take being second in his heart over her.”

She notices the look you have on your face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration to remember but to no avail. It makes her smile weakly. 

“You have her looks too,” she laughs, “She was a beautiful and strong woman I’ll tell you that… she was great at hiding her emotions… maybe that’s why your father couldn’t tell her signs of postpartum depression until after her death…”

“Do you know much about her brother?” Yoongi asks, cautiously gauging your expression.

The woman shakes her head with a grimace, “I’m sorry, unfortunately I don’t know too much about him. This is as much I can offer to help.”

“No, thank you,” Yoongi bows sincerely, as does his partner, “We’re grateful you agreed to let us question you.”

As Jimin and Yoongi pay their respects and bow, the woman you had thought to be your biological mother catches you at the elbow. Her expression is meek as she looks down immediately and retreats her hand from you.

“Listen (Y/n), you have my condolences for your father and your mother… I know it doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but take care of yourself and Hyemi please. I… if there’s anything I can do… maybe a place to stay… I heard about the apartment… it’s not much but I can roll out a futon in the living room… my husband won’t mind much...”

“I know you may not ever forgive me for leaving you both, but I truly do care for you two.”

You smile sadly back at the older woman, “Thank you for the offer, I’ll bring it up to Hyemi, but as for me… I will not ever stay with you. If you had cared as much as you say, you would have stayed. ” Bowing deeply, you give her a silent nod before turning to follow Yoongi who had been waiting there for you. His mouth is sewn together in a taut grimace as he bows once again to your step mother and leads you towards the car. To him, you were prissy and hard headed but it was these moments where he remembers what you’re going through and how you’re handling it as maturely as you could. 

“I’ll see what I can do at your place, it’s only been a day so I can’t promise much clearance for your clothes.”

You couldn’t blame him if you had to wait another day for clothes, for now you had work to worry about. Although, you couldn’t keep yourself from mulling over the newly found information that is who your real mother is and the fact that she was dead. It was hard to accept, but you decidedly pushed the information to the back of your head for now as you wait for the two detectives to drive to your old apartment. From the parking lot below, you watch as the two approach other officers and converse, probably trying to get you a change of clothes.

They disappear into the home before the blonde reemerges and leans over the railing. He catches your eye and gives a curt shake of his head. You visibly slump, an action he later apologizes for when the two return to the car and explain how they have the apartment under lockdown still, clearance was still a possibility tomorrow and he’ll bring you first thing in the morning. 

“Do you need me to stay and watch over you?”

You blink at the man. Was he growing a third head? 

“I’ll be fine.”

Sighing, he glances at the bar front, frowning when a man walks from within the building, his appearance screaming exceptionally sleazy. Not to stereotype, but the ragged facial hair and barely made bed head, along with an inconspicuous beer belly threatening to pop open the straining button on his jeans, give Yoongi bad vibes. 

“The other night can beg to differ,” his harsh voice rasps, “You don’t know if your father was specifically targeted, they may also be going after you.”

“I can handle myself!” You start to retort, hand curling around the door handle to exit the vehicle.

However, Yoongi grips at your wrist to keep you from leaving, “Yeah? Because you totally had it covered lying on the ground while four men two or three times your size were about to do God knows what to you. I’d say it was well handled.”

Fucking sarcasm. Yoongi bit you in the ass where it hurt.

Your face flushes brightly at that. He had a point and you hated to admit that he was right. Without him there, you could’ve been taken advantage of or worse.

“I only say this out of worry, I know gross, but I’m serious when I say that you may or may not be targeted and we are not about to risk your safety because you can handle yourself.”

It’s safe to say that your conversation ended at that, and Yoongi drops you off momentarily so he can go home and change into civilian clothes. It would be too suspicious for a detective to be in uniform and hanging around in a bar until closing. For emergencies, he kept a holster fastened around his waist, underneath his shirt, in case something does happen. When he returns, you, dressed in your uniform, immediately catch his eye as soon as he enters. He sits casually in a booth in the far corner of the room where he has view of the whole bar. A subtle nod of his head suffices in greeting, but you still blow a raspberry and walk over. 

“Are you even allowed to be serving me alcohol?” He asks with a raises brow and you have to keep all you can from smashing the drink menu into his deadpan. You weren’t even sure if he was being serious or joking. Before you can retort, he waves his hand, “Forget it, just get me water, alcohol won’t do me good if something really does happen to you.”

“Why? Is your tolerance low?” You quip back venomously.

“I’d like to say the same to you, because apparently you’re an adult,” He mocks with an over-the-top scratching nasally tone. 

“Fuck off.”

And one point goes to Yoongi as you stomp back to grab him his water. His eyes narrow when you come walking back and a hand purposefully reaches out to cop a feel of your rear. His fingers tap over his lap, itching to shoot a bullet through the asshole’s hand, when you accidentally step on the guy’s foot with menace. 

Oh.

“Hey you bitch, you just stepped on my shoes!”

Fingers grip harshly to your wrist, yanking you back to the pervert’s table. Yoongi is already up on his feet and stepping in between you and the other man. He places a hand over the male’s wrist, the one keeping your struggling arm from escaping.

“I suggest you let go of her.”

The man raises a brow, narrowing his eyes in irritation at his meddling, “This has nothing to do with you, I suggest you sit down or I punch your pretty face and make you bleed.”

“And she obviously did not like you touching her ass, you pig, so let her go.”

“Hah?” The man balks at the insult, shoving your arm away in favor of standing to his full height, towering over the detective. “Say that again to me, pretty boy, I fucking dare you.”

The situation ultimately ends with Yoongi’s absolute domination and the two getting kicked out however. You’re still flattered that he stuck up for you nonetheless. Your boss had different thoughts however at the whole situation, especially when he’d definitely saw the deliberate stomp on his customer’s foot.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you to just ignore the customers, we’ll be losing business because of your stupid pride!” 

The blonde waits within ear distance, receiving your text that you would be leaving out the back right now. He immediately stopped when your boss had followed you outside. A slap to the face and Yoongi’s breath hitches. His fingers dig into his thighs through the fabric of his pockets. 

“You’re lucky you still have a job, stupid bitch.”

When Yoongi steps out from the shadows, you can barely look him in the eye. You’re back in the clothes he had dropped you off in, your gaze downcast and your cheek raw and stinging from the hit. Where was the headstrong girl he’d met the few nights before? 

“Does this always happen?” he attempts as he walks beside you towards his car. A sidelong glance is sent his way, a raised brow to accompany the look.

“Which are you referring to? The ass grab or my ass of a boss?’

“Both really.”

Not sure what compels him, he opens the passenger door for you. A gesture that is met by an eyebrow raise, making him question his own actions. You don’t comment thankfully, ducking into the car. 

“It’s common, I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you reply once he’s situated in the driver’s side, both strapping in your seat belts. He hated that you merely shrugged it off, like you didn’t just get berated by your boss. You deserved better than that. 

“That’s concerning.”

You stifle a snort at that. “That’s new, coming from you.”

“Am I a jerk to you or something?” He raises a brow as he turns on the ignition, the car purring to life. Your gaze is drawn to his slender ivory fingers, wrapping around the emergency brake handle. How was it even possible for him to have such pretty hands? They move to put the car in drive and you’re faintly aware that he’s waiting for a reply.

“N-not really… like you’re an ass sometimes but it kinda feels like you’re being forced to babysit me.”

“You’re my case after all.” It’s nonchalant, shrugging as if it were natural, but you still couldn’t help the unintended sting they inflict in your chest. If only you knew how in denial he was, trying to convince himself that you were indeed strictly a job he had to take care of.

“That’s not the point fuckhead, you and Hoseok let me into your home, a stranger, and now you’re taking me to work and watching over me…”

“We couldn’t have you staying on the streets when you barely have enough pay to afford an inn, not like that was an option when it’s possible someone’s coming after you and your sister,” he sighs this time, barely taking his eyes off the road to regard you with a frown, “Speaking of your sister, what are you going to do about your… er her mother’s offer?”

“I’ll bring it up to her… she misses her sometimes you know?… She might want to stay with her… I guess it’s also better than staying in a house with two grown men.”

His eyes narrow.

“What are you insinuating, brat?”

“As for me though,” you continue, ignoring him to his discontentment, “I can’t forgive her, with or without her being blood related, Hyemi can stay with her if she wants but I will never accept her help.”

And just as you claim, your younger sister is almost ecstatic to finally see her mother again. The elder woman smiling meekly at the young girl who glomps her with a big hug, her things in your hands as you silently pass them off to the one you had once called your mother. She attempted to smile your way and offer to shelter you as well, but you choose to ignore it.

“Take care of her. Please.”

It throws her off momentarily, but she can’t blame you.

“I will. You be safe too.”

Hyemi hugs you tightly, frowning and the verge of sobbing a protest. But you kiss her forehead and ruffle her hair, “Be strong for me, okay? Yoongi and Hoseok are gonna bring justice to Dad, okay?”

“But you can stay here too…” She knows how much you despise your… her mother after she left. Even if she never stopped loving and missing her, you could not find it in yourself to forgive her for it, ever. 

“I’ll see you when this is all over, okay?”

You’re silent on the drive back home, cooking dinner, and then crawling onto the couch that is half empty now that Hyemi is going to be under her mother’s care for the time being.

The cushions dip under an added weight, your eyes glancing to the side to see Yoongi sitting there with his eyes trained on the television screen. He was clad in sweatpants and a tee shirt, a look that you had to silently admit looked very appealing on his lean body. His eyes slide to meet your gaze, your cheeks warming as you look away in embarrassment. He doesn’t comment on your staring, thankfully.

“You don’t plan on sleeping in your clothes from yesterday again, do you?”

You look to him again, confused this time.

“What are you implying?”

He sits there for a while, his mind thinking like cogs turning in his brain before he gets up abruptly and returns to his room. You don’t pay him any attention, glancing down at your phone when Hyemi texts you a goodnight followed by various heart emojis. A smile graces your face. Before it’s gone when Yoongi launches a shirt and shorts at your head.

Yanking the garments from your head, you shoot him daggers before glancing down at the clothes. His clothes. A romance trope that your high school persona would have gushed over. 

“How cliche, didn’t see you as the type.”

“Shut it, or I’m taking it back.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shrug and shift to get up from the couch.

“Wouldn’t your girlfriend be jealous to see me wearing your shirt?”

“What girlfriend?”

“The one you were with that night, when you… stuck your nose in my business,” you recall the woman he’d been with that night, the one who had clung to his side after the police had shown up to detain the rowdy customers that had cornered you.

“You mean saved you, brat. It was a blind date. The idiots are trying so hard to tie me down, but I just don’t need one.”

You had almost been excited to hear that he was single. 

“How ‘bout you? Got a boyfriend?”

“Do I look like I have one?”

Glancing you up and down, he shrugged with a quirk of the side of his mouth into a subtle smirk, “With that attitude? I’d be surprised if you even had a friend.”

He was relieved. 

...What?

You roll your eyes, should’ve seen that one coming. “Okay asshole, to answer your question, no I don’t have one.”

“Okay.”

“Yes.”

What even were these replies?! What even was the way you felt nervous around him? You take this chance to head to the bathroom to change quickly, his shirt slightly big on your form as well as tightening the drawstring all the way. Before heading out, you pause to stare into your reflection. 

How did it even come down to this? Dressed in the clothes of a man you hadn’t known for longer than two days. How did it even amount to the rosiness that bleeds across your cheeks and the muddled mess that’s your beating heart.

Returning, he’s taken a seat on the couch to your surprise, waiting for you to return possibly. You didn’t want to bring your hopes up. 

...What? No no no, you did not just think that. 

You muster up the courage to force down the lump in your throat and sit down beside him, pulling your legs up to your chest as you join him in watching the cartoon on screen. Then you break the silence once more.

“Can I ask you something?”

You cast him a glance, unaware of the heat burning at his cheeks and ears, his eyes flickering every now and then to drag over your form in his clothes. His adam’s apple bobbing with his swallow.

“What?” his reply comes out smooth, biting his lip in attempt to cool his head.

“Why are you so concerned?”

He deadpans, “Great question, you’re a brat, annoying, no ass on top of that, can barely fight for shit, get yourself into trouble quite often too…”

Irritated, you grab a pillow and launch it at his head, “So you are babying me you ass!”

“You’re my case, deal with it,” he scoffs, catching the item before it hits the side of his face.

After a moment passes, he breaks the silence that had settled after your outburst.

“Can I ask you something then.”

“What?”

“Why stay there?”

You blink, looking up at the ceiling as though the answer were there, “The bar? Not a lot of places take a girl with a delinquency record you know? I didn’t continue after high school, so I’m really limited.”

He wanted to ask you to quit. But that didn’t seem right. It didn’t even add up. Who was he to tell you to do so? You’re just a case. That’s why he cared. Because he was going to be the one who closes your father’s case and bring justice for what happened to him.

...Even if you were pretty and looked really nice in his clothes.

“I know what you’re going to say, even my dad didn’t like me working there. It’s shit. I know. The boss, an asshole, but it’s all I could manage to support my father and Hyemi. Sometimes I do wish I could go back to school.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Hyemi, remember? My father was busting his ass off when someone had paid his debts and salvaged his company, so he’s working hard to pay the him back.”

This was new.

“Him?”

“Father didn’t really talk about work too much. So I don’t really know who helped him, but it really stressed him out paying back whoever had helped him out.”

He hums, rubbing his hand over his mouth as you yawn beside him. The action was cute. 

“Speaking of,” He starts out, garnering your attention once again, “How are you holding up?”

You figured he was talking about your father again. How were you feeling? Sad? Empty? Angry? A mixture of anything and everything negative? He was no therapist, but as much as you can smile at Hyemi and act strong for her, the emotion never reached your eyes. You were exhausted and grieving, but it never helped that you still had to pick yourself back up for the sake of your sister and having to take life on despite the misgivings of the world taking your father away from you both. Moreover that, he wondered how you felt knowing your actual mother was not the one you’d grown up with. He wanted to know what was going inside your head, how you were able to just keep going despite everything being thrown at you in an effort to drag you down.

It all reminded him of Jimin, but in a way you were still very different from the boy he’d met many years ago. You, however, were very good at putting a smile on your face despite the exhaustion in your eyes from putting up a front. 

Just as he says, the ghost of a smile curls at your lips, your eyes glancing down at your toes.

“I’m not sure if it’s even hit me, to be honest, I’m not even sure how to feel about my mom not being my mom,” You say, followed by a humorless laugh, “I cried with Hyemi, yeah… but there’s no time for me to grieve or crumble… I’m sure even he wouldn’t want us wasting away because of his death…”

“You still should give yourself the chance to let it out.”

The sentiment was there, you suppose, touched by his concern for your emotional wellbeing.

“The night before, the night we met too, he gave me coupons to take Hyemi out to eat… I wonder if he knew… he said said he loved us… and it sounded so sad… even knowing that would be last time we got to say that to each other… I wonder if he expected this to happen…”

“Besides that… I just don’t want Hyemi to see me like that…” You say finally after a moment of silence, “I want to be strong for her. It might just seem like its the end if I can barely hold myself up, you know?”

He understood that.

“Enough of the sad talk, you might actually make me cry you jerk.”

You both continued to talk, and you were grateful for his presence. Although you both butted heads, quite a lot actually, you let him whisk you away from thinking about your father and the situation just for right now. You let him lead the conversation, talking about some of the disgusting things he’s seen as a part of the homicide unit, talking about how he’d gotten his adoptive brother to calm down and even get a girlfriend despite his stigma against women, talking about how Hoseok nearly set their apartment on fire trying to make stir fry one night. 

Yoongi didn’t notice how you both drifted off naturally, the lights still on and the television still running with the late night shows. His eyes blink away the remnants of sleep when a hand shakes his shoulder. Adjusting to the lights still on, he almost forgets where he was before he’d fallen asleep, Hoseok’s smirking expression coming into view as the younger points to the pressure on his shoulder. He doesn’t even need to look to know that you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder, your body shifting slightly to curl closer to him, the upright position no doubt uncomfortable for your back and neck.

Don’t even think about it, his eyes glare back at his partner who wiggles a suggestive brow, but still helps him remove you from his side and tuck you into a more comfortable position. 

Yoongi doesn’t want to look at you, but he steals a peek at your calm expression, heart picking up in speed as he reaches out to brush his palm over your head. 

The next morning, your neck is slightly uncomfortable for a reason you don’t know, but you choose to ignore as you cook breakfast for the day. 

“How is it over there, get some good sleep?” You ask as Hyemi’s face bobs around the screen at the excitement of your video call in the morning. 

“Mhm, they’re really nice to me, Naeun is really cute, you should meet her!” 

You never really knew the names of your two half siblings, that were biologically only Hyemi’s half siblings, but the awkwardness in what to call your supposed mother and her kids made your head hurt. The girl shifts the phone to show ‘Naeun’ who looks both shy and confused at your form cooking breakfast and still glancing at your phone propped up against a roll of paper towels.

“Hi?” You manage as Hyemi giggles and the camera is pointed back on her face. In the background, you can hear voices as your sister nods to the speaker before turning back towards you.

“I’m getting dropped off to school now, let me know if I can get my uniform soon! I miss you unnie!”

Her smile is the last thing you see before the call is ended and you feel slightly relieved. At least she was able to smile. That much was helpful enough to soothe your worries being without Hyemi for an indefinite amount of time.

Yoongi is noticeably stiffer around you today as they receive clearance for yours and Hyemi’s room only. You drop by to pick up some clothes as well as necessities and Hyemi’s things, that you drop off to the latter’s mother’s house. They drop you off at the restaurant you work at while they head back to the precinct and then your apartment again with Jimin and Taeyung.

“We got word back from forensics,” Jimin says as they once again go over the living room, your father’s body replaced by a taped off silhouette, “No prints, not even fragments either, I’m not surprised though, given the proximity he must’ve been shot at.”

“Did you get anything on Hong Suk?” Yoongi asks as they venture into the messy room of your father. The matress was thrown off its frame, planks scattered out of formation. The cubicles of the dresser were yanked out, clothes strewn all over. 

“His record is clean from what I could tell, although there was a file involving the mysterious death of their parents. I believe he’s the one taking over her father’s company at the moment.”

“I see, maybe we should pay a visit to the company,” the blonde hums as takes a step and pauses. Crouching down, the younger notices this and comes over as he raps his fist against the floorboards. Running his finger over the floor, he catches a noticeable square patch that he pries open to reveal a hidden compartment. 

Heroin. Their eyes staring down the plastic bag of the packaged substance. 

Was this what the killer was looking for? Why was your father hiding drugs in your home? What was going on?

Yoongi decides to keep the drugs a secret from you. They couldn’t draw too many conclusions from the pack when they returned to the precinct with the package as well as hair follicles that Hoseok had luckily found. He just wasn’t about to break it to you that your father was hiding drugs, it would break you. You obviously had no idea what he did or who had helped out his company, knowing this would only tear you down.

From the restaurant, it’s a walk away from the bar, where you feel an eerie feeling of being watched. You had hurried to work despite the feeling, but the discomfort never left when one customer in particular appears nervous and fidgety around you. He gives you a negative vibe that you try to avoid, but when you glance his way, his eyes are on you before quickly flicking away. He fumbles with his hands quite often, sliding his palms together as if they were sweating profusely. 

“Yo-you’re really cute,” He attempts very awkwardly when you take his drink order. You can only internally cringe and simply thank him, the searing eyes of your boss watching you after the scuffle from the other night. 

“I’m going to have to politely decline,” You force out when he offers to take you out for a coffee or something, definitely ignoring the way you shift from one foot to another and try to leave. 

It doesn’t help that you see him outside the bar, waiting for you, glancing at the entrance as you get into Yoongi’s car hurriedly.

The blonde raises a brow at your frantic state until you point out the man. “That guy was creeping me out today, he was there ever since I started my shift and kept staring at me and insisting that I go out with him.” The memory of his eyes constantly on you made you shiver.

Brown eyes narrow at the fidgety male, glancing over his appearance, watching the way he rubs his hands together nervously before driving away.

“Let me know if he comes back,” he says finally, briefly placing his hand over your head. A gesture that you’re thankful for.

“Did you find out anything new today?” You ask the inevitable question when you both have long returned to his apartment and finish up clearing the table from dinner. He helps wash the dishes while you dry. Yoongi almost curses your ability to somehow read the flash of hesitancy that shifts in his eyes. “You found something didn’t you?”

He also curses that he can’t find it in himself to lie to you about the drugs hidden in your dad’s room. It was unneeded stress on your shoulders, but you’re smarter than you let on as you wait for him to answer you. He notices the way you pout, and wills himself to keep a sturdy front, despite his heart exploding with butterflies.

“Stop that, you’re not cute,” He huffs, but if having to live with you for the past three days meant anything, he knew that you wouldn’t quit pestering him, as well as rip him a new one for calling you uncute. “We found a DNA sample in the apartment…”

“And?”

He blinks at you. God you were too smart for your own good. 

“...”

“Min Yoongi.”

Oh. That was new. You’ve never referred to him using his full name. He stuffs the thought that he quite likes the way you say his name, even if you were currently annoyed, away. 

“No,” He grumbles, ruffling his bangs as he finishes putting away the last of the dishes you towel-dried.

“You promised.”

“I didn’t promise shit.”

Fuck. There’s that face again.

“You’re an ass.”

He snorts, “At least I have one.”

You physically start punching him, although more halfheartedly. 

“We found packs of what we presume to be heroin, hidden in a compartment under his bedroom floor.”

All movement comes to a halt. Eyes wide as your hands fall to your sides. This is exactly why he didn’t want to tell you. An array of emotions glimmer in your eyes, he recognizes each stage of realization and hurt and confusion, your lips opening and closing. 

“You don’t think… he would never!”

“We aren’t jumping to conclusions, I just knew you would overthink and stress out your little head over it.”

You settle down at his words, shoulders slumping and your hands open and closing at your sides as you look down. Your father would never do such a thing, right? Given your new found knowledge of his mistress, your biological mother, was he resorting to desperate measures from the loss of not one but two women he had loved dearly. Was it the job? Was he trying to pay back his debt through nefarious means? Was this the reason he’s so worn down? 

Guilt dug itself into your chest. If only you could’ve done more, if only you could’ve been stronger. 

“You weren’t planning on telling me about this?”

Yoongi doesn’t flinch, but his chest squeezes, knowing you would have been upset with him either way. Hair blocks his eyes from searching for the hurt that’s probably found its way onto your expression, he’d only feel worse if he saw it anyways.

“You have plenty to worry about as it is,” He says with a gentle and hesitant hand over your head, “This was exactly what I was trying to avoid, you’re probably blaming yourself right now, aren’t you?”

Curse him for being able to read you so well. Then again, your head hung down wasn’t exactly a connotation that exuded happiness or anything that wasn’t sadness and frustration. Curse him again for inadvertently causing the influx of butterflies trapped in your chest at the slightest brush of his palm over the crown of your head. 

“I hate you,” You mutter, glaring up at him weakly.

“You’re so uncute,” He huffs back to your further annoyance.

The thought was appreciated though. He had thought about you, and that warmed you just thinking about it. For now, you frowned at once again being called not cute and leave him to get ready for bed.

Hoseok drops you off at the restaurant the next day after Yoongi heads to the apartment first thing with Jimin and Taehyung.

“How you doing so far?” The brunette smiles good naturedly as he turns on the car.

You never really spoke to Hoseok one-on-one before, but he radiated an easy-go-lucky air similar to Taehyung, if you remember his name right. His smile seemed to calm you down and soften any guard you had up. It was a polar opposite from the limited expressions that Yoongi expressed around you. Limited meaning, deadpan all day everyday, with the occasional frown and annoyed glare.  

“I’m holding up okay, I guess?” 

He hums at that, “Hyung get on your nerves last night?”

You balk at him, were you two that loud last night? The echo of his words calling you uncute last night haunted you suddenly and you looked away with a pout. It beats you that you mull over the statement rather than his unwillingness to keep you posted on your father’s case.

“He’s an ass.”

“He is,” He chuckles lightly, “But he seems a little more… human around you, you know? It’s quite refreshing.”

“What do you mean?” You ask curiously, interest piqued.

His eyes meet yours briefly as he comes to a stop light, “He’s a little cold, yeah? He’s barely expresses anything other than blank, and he doesn’t even talk a lot unless it’s around Jimin’s girlfriend… but lately he’s been different with you around.”

“Are you sure? He inadvertently called me ugly last night,” You say with a scornful frown.

“Those two share the same wavelength in a way,” He hums nonchalantly, “He’s not entirely socially adept, the same as Jiminie who calls his girlfriend grandma quite often… but that’s beside the point. What do you think of him?”

The question shocks you. What were you supposed to think of him after just a few days spent with him? He teased you, and yet he also took care of you in a way. He made you feel safe and calm despite everything that’s spiraling into hell around you. He made everything just a little bearable. That much you can admit… to yourself.

“You’re cute, you know?” The brunette says, yanking you out of your thoughts with the surprising compliment. He laughs heartily as your cheeks brighten at the sudden proclamation. “Hyung must think that too… ah, looks like we’re here, watch out for yourself heading to the bar after. Give us a call if you don’t feel safe or something happens, yeah?”

Your eyes linger on his carefree smile, huffing as you finally thank him for the ride. There was no point in dealing with thoughts of Yoongi right now, you had to work and just get through the day for now. 

Hoseok makes an amused sound before he’s interrupted by his message tone, his eyes tearing away from your form disappearing into the restaurant to appraise his cell phone. 

‘The guy who was creeping out (Y/n) last night was snooping around her apartment suspiciously. We took him in for questioning, meet at the precinct after you drop her off.’

A sigh leaves his lips as he sets down his phone to start driving again. 

These two are so oblivious, he thinks.

 Yoongi sits at the metal table, elbows propped up on the hard surface with his digits laced one over the other, his mouth pressed against his hands. His eyes are hard steel as they gaze down at his files, courtesy of Jimin’s research, before looking up to the fidgety man. The other flinches at the attention, nearly shitting right then and there when the door suddenly opens to Hoseok. 

Lee Hoon. The exact same features from the other night, as well as the same habit of rubbing his hands together. He’d thought maybe he had a small creepy crush, but it didn’t even make sense for him to show up at your apartment. Was he a stalker? That night was the first time you’d interacted, right? Had he watched from afar prior? Followed you home? 

The thought made him more irritated than he expected as he skims over the details of him being an employee at your father’s company.

Oh.

Under his scrutiny, the poor guy’s ready to wet his pants just by Yoongi existing. 

“Lee Hoon. Correct?”

“Y-yes.”

“You work under the late (y/l/n)-ssi’s company right?”

“Yes, I was part of the few who stayed after the business fell into debt.”

Yoongi hums as Hoseok’s airy tone seems to relax the suspect greatly. It didn’t lessen the grating sight of his chestnut hue glaring into his very soul.

“Saves us some time, I suppose, we were planning on heading over to the company to ask a few questions about your late boss,” the blonde muses this time, lifting his chin just slightly in indignance, almost gazing down on him, “Might I ask what you were doing lurking around (y/l/n)-ssi’s apartment?”

The man doesn’t answer, but he takes this into stride.

“And at the bar? His daughter mentioned interacting with you, you even stood outside waiting for her.”

“That couldn’t have possibly been me,” He manages firmly, but Yoongi watches his movements carefully, the way his eyes flicker and dilate, even the slightest bit, “I’ve never spoken to or seen his daughters before.

“Mm, I see,” Hoseok hums, noting how riled up his partner is more than usual, “Let’s back track a little bit shall we? While working under (l/n)-ssi, was there any malicious intent… or well any negative blood from other workers?”

The man shook his head, “Not that I’m aware, Sir was a good man and an attentive boss as well. Everyone spoke highly of him, even as the company took a nose dive. He worked harder than the rest of us.”

That was no lie. His hand rubbing never seized out of anxiety, but he had visibly perked at the question. 

“I see,” Hoseok nods at the information, before he laces his fingers underneath his chin, a cheshire smile curling at his lips, “I don’t suppose you know what comes with being indicted for homicide, do you?”

“Capital Punishment.” The two words are broken apart with heavy pauses for emphasis as he watches the man squirm uncomfortably, “His poor daughters are left without a father, nor an acting mother… I can only imagine the monster who was involved in such thing, how he’s able to live with himself and touch his wife and kids without a single remorse. Even the sick person who would be such a monster’s accomplice, guilty by association amirite?”

“It really beats me,” Hoseok smiles kindly, as Jimin and Taehyung shiver through the one-way mirror. 

“Hyung can be really scary sometimes.” The brunette rubs his arms, goosebumps littering his skin as Jimin makes a noise of agreement. The guilt that spills over Hoon’s face is evident, especially when facing Hoseok’s sardonic smile. 

“He’s happy go lucky, but really, he’s two-faced,” Jimin blows a raspberry, “You’d think he’s on your side, but that makes it all the more easier to manipulate you into his hands.”

They immediately clamp their mouths shut as Hoseok continues to coax the man into spilling, that damned smile never leaving his lips. Anyone would see the smile of an angel, they saw the smile of a wolf in sheep’s skin.

That side of the older detective never really came out often, but it never failed to make the two youngest uncomfortable, the hair on the back of their necks rising. Normally playful and bright walnut eyes turned dark and cynical, no space for mercy or the kindness that feigned on his curled lips. 

“Hong Suk killed him! I-I, he brought me long to find the girl, and take the drugs he still had, but… but I couldn't find it… and he sent me back or else he’d kill me and my family!”

Did he mean you? They all thought, perking up at the statement.

Yoongi takes a break from the interrogation, leaving the room to greet Taehyung and Jimin on the other side of the one way mirror. He nods firmly to them, as he slips out his phone to check the time. 

“Picking up your girlfriend?” Taehyung sports a small smile despite just finding out your father’s killer. His partner elbows him with a slight frown. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“But you like her?”

Taehyung takes his silence as a yes. The blonde’s eye twitches in annoyance, “She’s my case.”

“That you have feelings for?”

“Taehyung I swear to God,” he frowns, directing his attention to Jimin who looks like he’s thinking way to hard. 

“Her being your case is different from liking her, hyung. I mean, I had always thought of my girlfriend as being nothing more than my case… I guess I didn’t realize until late that she meant a lot to me. You know… ‘cause Jungkook got to her before I could.”

“Invalid,” he deadpans. “I met her three days ago, I do not like her. That’s highly inappropriate.”

“That’s like saying Jimin’s relationship is inappropriate,” Taehyung snickers to Jimin’s annoyance, followed by a weak punch to his arm.

“We got together after I closed her case, you ass.”

“Still inappropriate,” The blonde shuts down once again as the door to the interrogation room opens.

“But you find her cute, no?” Hoseok smiles as he emerges from the room, glancing slyly back through the mirror to see the man reduced to trembles and holding his head in his hands.

“Did you break him Hobi, what the fuck?” Jimin balks, but the brunette ignores the younger’s statement.

“Yoongi, you can’t possibly tell me that you have no dick and didn’t feel anything when you both fell asleep two nights ago on the couch with (Y/n) wearing your shirt.”

The reaction is spontaneous. Taehyung and Jimin gasping none too dramatically as they bat their eyelashes in his direction, but he’s already turning around to hide the heat tinging his ears.

“Great, I have no dick, now fuck off I have to go pick her up from work,” He responds icily, shutting them up with a finishing glare over his shoulder. 

Liar. They all, even he himself, thinks. 

Fuck.

Is his last coherent thought however as the shift supervisor explains to him that you had stepped out for lunch but never came back, your things still there as well as your phone left on the pavement in the back. 

Everything comes crashing down, and despite his steel-like expression, he’s actually panicking and terrified. 

“Hoseok!” Yoongi’s voice strains into the phone, heart pounding in his ears as he jams the clip of the seat belt into the buckle. Dread is building up in his system, forehead breaking out into a sweat.

‘I got it hyung, don’t worry, he spilled the location of Hong Suk and his plans on kidnapping (Y/n), we’ve got our units ready to head out, I’ll send you the location.’

.

You feel sick to your stomach. Still dressed in your work clothes, body very inconveniently tied to the chair. When you had finally come to, confused and lethargic, he was there, watching you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you weren’t sure you even wanted to know - was… was that drool? The sight of slick falling from his mouth causes your stomach to lurch.

“Finally awake?”

Your mind is all over the place, barely able to concentrate, shaking off the remnants of being knocked out. For now, you didn’t know where you were, or who this man was. It didn’t even help being bound to your seat.

“You know your father left behind a real hefty debt you know? With him gone… who’s gonna repay me for saving his business?”

All thoughts come to a screeching halt when he steadily approaches and you become more aware of the room you’re in and the man - your assumed kidnapper. He wasn’t the one who had approached you at the restaurant if you remember correctly before you were knocked out. It looks no more than a regular bedroom consisting of: a bed with a pink comforter set, some stuffed animals, a desk with photo frames, a vanity, and a closet. It was the average girl’s room. And the man? Tall, (e/c) eyes that were wide as they scraped over your form, his body clad in slacks and a white dress shirt and tie. 

“What are you gonna do about it? Eldest right? And an illegitimate child at that,” his voice grates, saccharine sweet but more like needles in your ears. 

“How do you kn… D-don’t fucking touch me!”

Is what you would’ve said if it weren’t for the tape over your mouth. 

You wanted to lean away as far as could, nearly gagging as his hands reached out to caress your face. A blissed sigh comes from his almost manic smile, tension releasing from his shoulders as his fingers drag down lower, the curve of your neck, then over your shoulder. Your body trembles, the sense of fear filling you.

Stop, stop, stop, you think, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

Which he does to your surprise. His face comes closer this time, too close for comfort that his breath wafts over your face. You turn your head with a scrunch of your nose and he expects this, gripping your jaw harshly in his hand and whipping your head towards him. 

Where was Yoongi? Where were you?

“Did you even know? Your father fucked over a really important person to me you know. Drove her insane, killed her.” He whispers the last part at the shell of your ear, back away slightly to gauge the shock that morphs your face. Relishing in the way your brain works to piece together the puzzle, eyes darting as you analyze his face and the picture frames on the desk beside you. One in particular is of a family, a girl you recognize and a boy and their parents. The faces of their parents, scratched out with a permanent marker however.

The man laughs. Covering his face with his hand as he bends at the waist, keeling over and shaking with euphoria at your expression.

“Hah look at your face! Didn’t know that did you? Didn’t even know who your real mother was. You and your father. You killed her! My beloved sister. She was my world. My everything. But she was stupid. Falling for a business man like your father and leaving me, her beloved little brother by himself. Was pretty easy to take down his company to be honest. Lawsuits? Childsplay.” His eyes peek through the slits of his fingers, leering down on you.

“Which brings me back to my point, my cute little niece. What should I do with you? Not like I have any use for you anyway. I’ve got what I wanted, your father out of my way, and his business is now mine. Simple right? But don’t think you’ll be able to go after hearing all this, quite silly don’t you think? Where’s your little sister? She doing okay? Doesn’t matter.” He’s talking quickly, erratically, and you can barely keep up as he steps around the room with his hands gesturing wildly before coming to a stop. Eyes turned toward you, pointing almost accusingly, “You. You got her blood, her face, everything. Should I keep that for myself? God I wanted her to be mine, only mine, she was mine until your father stole her from me.”

Circling around you, he reaches out to tangle his hands in your hair. You yelp against the tape, scalp burning at the pull. He ignores the sound and instead sniffs the lock of hair and sighs blissfully. Yanking your head to the side, his nose presses to your neck, slithering his nasty tongue down your length as you struggle and attempt to shout against the tape over your mouth.

His nail drags across your neck slowly, harsh and painful, as though he were scraping off your skin. 

“Or how about I harvest your organs? I’ll keep your cute little head, fuck, you look just like her, it’s getting me a little... excited. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her.”

Tears pour from your eyes, breathing as much as you can through your nose before it’s all cut off when his fingers dig into your neck. 

“But you’re not her, you could never be her! Why did you have to be born? Why did you have to kill her?” Anger burns in his eyes, nearly spitting in your face as he accuses you. Your arms attempt to thrash against the bindings, nails biting into your palm as his bite into your throat.  

Your vision is starting to thin, blurring before he stops at the abrupt echo of the doorbell. There’s barely enough time to register what’s happening, your ears ringing at the sound of gunshots and shouting. The door to the room was thrown open, but Hong Suk had already retrieved a knife and placed it at your neck, other hand yanking your head back by your hair. 

“Let her go Hong Suk.” That’s Yoongi’s voice. You blink multiple times, trying to focus on the figures that seem to melt together in your haze. Yoongi’s face is blurry, but you recognize the frown that marrs his pretty face, fire in his eyes when he takes in the state you’re in.

“Isn’t she cute?” Your biological uncle grins, taking a long sniff of your hair bunched up in his hands. He takes extra care in dragging his tongue over your cheek, revelling in the way the blonde growls. 

“I was thinking of experimenting on her too, reduce her to a begging little bitch once she’s gotten a taste of this,” his eyes dart to the plastic bag of needles on the desk, causing the blonde to stiffen.

I’m gonna kill him, Yoongi bristles, to which Jimin notices and nudges him subtly but keeping his aim trained on the deranged male. It was no use for him to get worked up, you were being held captive, it only mattered now to extract you without getting you hurt or even killed.

“How’d you find us?” He asks flippantly, pressing the knife to your neck, but not enough that your skin breaks underneath the sharp edge. 

“Your accomplice broke after half an hour.”

A moment passes as he seems to connect the dots and figure out just who they were referring to.

“That useless piece of shit! I should’ve killed him earlier!” He fumes at the realization, “Couldn’t find the drugs or the girl, making me do all the dirty work.”

Hoseok notices the dart of Hong Suk’s eyes, licking his lips carefully. “Put down the knife, you’re surrounded with no one coming to help you.”

He’s was right, and even the man knew that as he forced down an anguished sigh as he let the knife falter and his hands raise above his head in defeat. There was no use in resisting when every gun in the room pointed at him. 

Even when he did make a jolt for the gun lying in wait nearby, Yoongi was quick to put a bullet through his hand, causing the man to fall to the floor, clutching his wrist with a pained cry.

.

Yoongi comes rushing to your side outside after detaining Hong Suk and others in the home, other officers currently searching the home for anything pertaining to the heroin found in your father’s room. 

You sit on a gurney by the ambulance, finishing up the last of the check up from the paramedic. Your eyes finds his, examining his distraught expression, heavy with guilt at the same time. This was more of Yoongi than you’ve ever seen. The anger and disgust directed at Hong Suk, the subtle relief when you were extracted safely. So many emotions in one man, that you never knew he could experience when he appeared rather cold during your first meeting. 

“Thank you, for everything,” You smile wearily as he makes his way over to you, placing a fond hand over your head. When had that become your guy’s thing? Especially after barely a week of knowing one another. 

“Just shut up for a second,” he mumbles softly, his other hand balling into a tight fist at his side. The hand on your head slides back to press your face against his neck. His heart beats and he lets out a long sigh of relief. All the tension from earlier dissipates.

“You did well, you were so strong, and I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner… and let him touch you like that...”

“You’re here now,” you mutter meekly, pursing your lips as you inhale the calming scent of his body wash. 

“I am,” his voice replies lightly, a slight hint of a chuckle but not quite. 

Nothing changes that fact that you still stay at Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment for a while longer, although you grow busy with handling your father’s cremation and funeral (an event that has you and Hyemi crying nonstop)  and the court proceedings leading to the indictment of Hong Suk and his accomplices. Your father’s company had ended up being stripped, with Hong Suk as the acting head, he’d used it to further his drug production and distribution and organ trafficking (which is overturned to the narcotics unit and NIS respectively). Not that you could’ve done anything if you had inherited the company from your father. 

Yoongi finds you in your apartment looking through old photos of you, Hyemi, and your father. Most of which were pre-bankruptcy since your quality time together had taken a nose dive and joyful memories just weren’t made anymore. 

“What do you plan on doing from now on?” You look up, he’s there in casual clothing, hands shoved in his pockets of his slacks. Wow. The thought bubbled in your head, heart beating just a tad faster. He had always looked good to be honest, from the first you had met him on his post-date commute home, and when he came to watch you at the bar. Denim jeans and a plaid flannel over a plain tee? So simple and still drool worthy.

Okay.

No.

Not drool. The thought made you shiver, remembering Hong Suk that day.

Then you remember that you haven’t answered his question yet and you’re basically checking him out at this point while having an eternal thirst-driven panic.

“I don’t know to be honest,” You finally start shakily, brushing your fingers over a picture of your father tossing little Hyemi into the air, a huge smile on his face. His face was youthful and lively, no worries in the world and simply content. “My apartment is trashed and I don’t even know if I’d feel like staying here again when my dad’s gone and having to pay for rent and groceries by myself. I can’t have Hyemi staying with… her mom for too long as well.”

A moment passes and Yoongi takes a deep breath, soothing his nerves temporarily as he takes a determined step up to your side.

“What about staying with us… permanently?”

Your head snaps up to his, eyes widening a fraction as his warm gaze stared back. Heat rises to your cheeks, breaking the stare to look down at the frame in your hands with furrowed brows.

“That’s nice Yoongi, but I’m sure I’ve overstayed what’s acceptable of just a case, and I’ve got Hyemi too, your apartment is two roomed as well... ”

“You’re not just a case anymore,” He says simply when your voice finally falters.

“Why are you so concerned?”

Ouch.

You got him there. 

His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to read your tone and expression, but you refused to look up at him. Especially with your cheeks burning, you kept your head down. Were you teasing him? You had asked the same thing that night as well.

“Don’t make me say it.”

You prove your point by moving to leave, setting down the frame promptly as you did so, when his fingers wrap around your wrist to tug you back towards him.. 

“I hate you.”

You deadpan, “Very concerned, thank you for the past month Yoongi, but I should start figuring out what I’m going to do with my and Hyemi’s life.”

The utter frustration is so palpable in his low groan, you were so stubborn and he fucking loved it. 

“We’ll find a bigger place to stay (Y/n), we’ll take care of you two, you can quit that stupid bar job, start school again, you can rely on me.”

“Why?” 

God you were such a brat. His fingers squeeze your wrist briefly, hardened mocha staring into your own before he glances away. 

Do it.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, you stupid brat,” He finally admits. It had all pieced together that he stopped seeing you as a case to close. Although his time with you was short, way shorter than Jimin’s case with his own girlfriend, he fell face first into your charms. Annoying, but still goddamn charming. 

You look up at him, lip trembling as this flatten into a frown and you’re furrowing your eyebrows up at him, “You don’t mean that. I’m troublesome and bratty, all just like you said. We just met weeks ago, I only stayed with you because there was no other option and… and now you want us to stay with you… permanently? Why would you go so far? For someone like me?”

“I’m doing this ‘cause your sister’s cute,” He deadpans, and you almost take him seriously when he jabs your forehead with his index, “Fuckhead, did you not hear me? I like you.”

“Yoongi..” You gasp obnoxiously with a hand covering your mouth, “I didn’t know you were a pedophile.”

“I take it back, I hate you,” He grunts, “My offer still stands, we’ll take care of you, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck. 

Were you crying?

Were you seriously about to cry because of him?

He anticipates this and looks away while casually opening his arms to beckon you close. Although, he wasn’t expecting you to throw yourself, face first, into his chest. His palm settles over your head in that way he does that emits a sense of security that just calms. You don’t know what it is about him patting your head, you were no dog, you just liked it. A lot. You liked him. A lot. That much was evident with the creeping blush dusting over your cheeks.

It never helped either when you found yourself gradually nuzzling back against the pressure of his hand, urging him to keep his palm there. If you ever did get addicted to something, it would be the bubble of feelings that erupt in your chest, the quickening pace of your heart when he’s around, the glow of your cheeks when he’s got you so very flustered. 

“Is this how you flirt?” You ask when you finally calm down, as though you weren’t just smothering your snot and tears in his shirt and coddling his hand like a mutt, “Pick up a girl off the street and ask her to live with you. No dates. You’ve skipped quite a lot of bases.”

“I didn’t pick you off the streets you brat, I picked you up when you fainted here.”

“Okay listen, I don’t need to remember that.”

“Busted through the officers at the door like an absolute badass, can you imagine how exasperated I felt when I realized this was your apartment, especially after our encounter the night before?” 

“Even now is kind of not the best way for me to confess my feelings like a stupid teenage boy, but you’re so fucking stubborn.”

“What do you even like about me?”

“Despite being annoying, and a brat with no ass, and absolutely fucking stupid--”

“I don’t even think you like me, you bitch, stop insulting me.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, not even when we first met, I could only think about that dumb brat who managed to find trouble in an alleyway just begging to be kidnapped. To be honest. This was how Jimin found his girlfriend… he took on her case when she’d finally woken up from a coma… they didn’t necessarily like each other at first but he’s crazy about her. And I thought, fuck, this couldn’t be happening to me. This is a case, keep it professional. But then my dumbass offered you my shirt that night. You cooked for us. You’re so incredibly stubborn and hardworking, just for your sister and father, its admirable, I would go through the same for Jimin if I were in the same situation to be honest. When that bastard got to you before we could, I was scared. So fucking scared. He touched you, and I wanted to shoot him dead.”

He composes himself, emotions gone out of control just remembering the fear that built up inside him at the realization that you were gone and in the hands of the man who ordered your father’s death. Even Jimin had been surprised to see Yoongi directing more emotion than usual, especially when it didn’t have to do with his girlfriend. 

“Tell me it’s the same for you,” he whispers softly, so soft, you’re not sure he spoke. But he’s slightly embarrassed at his own courageousness and cheesiness. 

Your words fail you. Taking his hand on top of your head in your own hands, his heart jumps in his throat, were you going to reject him? After he finally stripped himself of his usually cold demeanor and calm facade? He was basically pouring his guts out in front of you, almost desperate to keep you with him when you’re the only girl, other than Jimin’s girlfriend, he’s expressed more than grimaces and frowns at. His heart pounds, like he’s fucking dying, palms clammy. He wanted to deny that he was ever attracted to a brat like you, but everything felt too domestic and he found himself caught in the snare of your fiery determination to work hard for your father and sister. 

He’d always thought that maybe he’d settle with a girl just as quiet as he was, collected, feminine, the type that he’d let dote on him and take care of him. But as you press a kiss to his cheek, the skin flaring with heat, he’s floored. 

“I might like you too…”

Safe to say that the boys won’t let Yoongi hear the end of it when he casually mentions that he and Hoseok found a new apartment with three rooms. He doesn’t even imply or mention your name and they’re hooting and hollering, Namjoon coming out of his office to join in on the fun to his exasperation. 

Please I needed this bonus ending:

You’re helping Hyemi organize her room, opening up the cardboard boxes with her things from your old apartment. Folding clothes and putting them into her dresser, you hum in response as she talks about the recent drama at school. You had sucked it up and thank her mother for taking care of her, stiffly smiling when she reminded you that she cared for you no matter what. It was just not an option at the moment to be able to forget how she abandoned you three. But you were still grateful that she took care of Hyemi for the past month, even with two kids of her own and new husband. 

“Mind if I steal her for a second Hyemi?”

A chirp comes from your sister in response and you barely have to look up to know that it’s your boyfriend. She shoos you when you make a face at her, giggling behind her hand as you cast scowls at her while Yoongi leads you towards your shared room. 

Despite only sleeping together once, on the couch at that, you could never get over the idea of jumping head first into a relationship and sleeping in close quarters immediately. Although, Yoongi had politely offered that he slept on the couch until you felt comfortable enough to sleep together. You were grateful for that, although he didn’t waste a second to tease you about being a middle school brat who couldn’t handle sleeping with a man, because hormones. In which you promptly dragged him to the bed to sleep together for the first time, although you could barely sleep a wink when he was just right there, breathing and existing. 

“Idiot, go to sleep, I can hear you overthinking,” He had whispered towards your back, voice raspier than usual and you just want to slam the pillow over your face and kindly die. It’s safe to say that he silently splayed his hand cautiously over your stomach, dragging you backwards until he’s flush behind you. Yoongi had waited until you protested or even moved away, but you relaxed against him, listening to your hearts beat in tandem and enjoying the way his thumb circling over your stomach soothingly. 

Hoseok finds you two the next morning and made it his mission to take a picture and send it to the other guys. A fact that Yoongi beats him up for.

Getting the new place, Yoongi had teased you endlessly about being fine with bunk beds since you were still a brat and could not handle your hormones around him. To which you punched him and demanded that one bed was fine, unless he couldn’t stand sleeping beside you without popping a hard one. 

Your room is for the most part put together, some boxes of miscellaneous items still yet to be put away. 

“What did you need?” You ask, not even realizing why he even needed to steal you from helping your sister.

“Nothing, really…” Arms wrap around your body and he’s pressing himself behind you, engulfing you in his warmth with his face tucked into the side of your neck. You weren’t convinced but he didn’t make any moves to say any more or move from his position.

“Yoongi.”

“Don’t make me say it,” he huffs.

“Yoongi.”

“Fuck off brat.”

He really just wanted to hold you in his arms after helping out Hoseok set up the living room and kitchen, but you’d just have to make him spit it out.

.

*I suddenly want to write one for Hoseok with the way I portrayed his character here... I also thought about just writing spin offs for the rest of the boys too. Minus JK, but then if I did... I do have a idea for him. :’) Just some afterward thoughts.

Just some tidbits of small details I added but weren’t really too important, but I wrote them in thinking they would be lol: 

I had mentioned in Hong Suk’s file that there’s a case found on the mysterious death of his and reader’s mom’s parents. He killed them. It’s not an important fact that I incorporated, but it was an idea to further that he had a sister complex and obsessed over her to the point of killing his parents when he felt threatened.

It was implied, but to make ends meet, Reader’s father dealt the drugs that Suk made - as a part of repaying him and manipulation out of guilt when Suk revealed to Reader’s father of his ties to Reader’s biological mother. It’s a small detail that didn’t have much importance, but I thought I would allude to the lengths the father would go to.

I realized lol that Hyemi wasn’t present for the rest of story, her role was only meant as the reason why Reader works so hard and keeps her emotions in check for the most part. Made her stay at her mom’s house because. PLOT. LOL I wasn’t just about to have Yoongi only give his clothes to reader and her sister is like tf am I?

I also tried to down play the attraction because they literally just met, but its a romance fic so there is still an attraction between the two and Yoongi just finds himself drawn to wanting to protect her especially when he admires her for being strong despite always getting on her nerves. The same goes for Reader who finds comfort with Yoongi protecting her when she stopped having someone to dote on her and protect her. Obviously I accelerate that by having a small time skip in the end where she still stays with them during the indictment and funeral service, so Yoongi and Reader are around each other for a little longer to develop more feelings. It’s just implied but I couldn’t find any other way to write it in lol...

I didn’t find a good place to mention in the bonus, but Reader will visit her biological mother’s cemetery at the crematorium. I’d like to say this may or may not be the same one that Interference’s MC’s family resides at, but well it’s just an idea. Despite not knowing her, she still pays her respects. Eventually, she comes around when Hyemi’s mother makes it her purpose to call every now and then to check on them. She was trying at the very least, especially for Hyemi, and it still never changed the fact that she grew up with her as her mother and not her own biological one. 

Anyhoot! Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed and please let me know what you think!! 

[sunriserose1023]

Another Try [4]

SUMMARY: He was supposed to return the Infinity Stones. He used them instead. WORD COUNT: 2242 PAIRING: Steve Rogers x Female Reader WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Language, canon divergent, timeline delineation, explicit sexual content, canon-typical situations/injuries, more warnings will be added/removed as the series progresses

You knocked on the door, not waiting for an answer before you strode into the room. Steve turned from his dresser, one eyebrow raising as he looked to you. 

“Everything okay?” “You kissed me.”

Steve blinked, turning fully to face you, moving his hands to his sides, gripping the edge of the dresser. 

“Yes.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Why?”

Steve glanced down at the floor, a smile playing on his lips. You shook your head again, unable to stay still as you began pacing. 

“Don’t … don’t do that.” “What?” “That smile.” “I can’t smile?” “Not that one!”

Steve gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong with my smile?”

You groaned, stopping your pacing, putting your face in your hands. You pushed your hands through your hair, meeting his eyes. You gave a sigh, shaking your head, speaking softly. 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Steve smiled that same smile as he ducked his head to stare at the floor again. You pressed your lips together, stepping closer to him, feeling your heartbeat speed up at the nearness. He lifted his head the slightest bit, and you felt the breath hitch in your chest when his azure eyes locked onto yours. 

“Did you not like it?”

You blinked. 

“What?”

Steve’s smile widened. 

“Did you not enjoy the kiss?”

Your eyes widened. 

“I enjoyed it very much.” “Good.” “I just want to know why.”

He nodded. 

“I’m tired of fighting it.” “What?” “The way I feel about you.”

You blinked. 

“Me?”

Steve tilted his head to the side. 

“Why is that so surprising?”

A smile crossed your face as you lifted a hand. 

“Because you’re you. You look like that, so what could you possibly see in me?”

Steve shook his head, reaching out for you. You twisted away at the last minute, crossing the room and putting some space between the two of you. Steve raised an eyebrow and you shook your head. 

“We need to talk. We need to have a conversation like two adults, and we won’t do that if you touch me because—“ “One touch from me turns you into a horny teenager?”

Your mouth dropped open as he threw back his head and laughed, and you felt your cheeks grow warm as you marched to him and slapped his arm. That only fueled him, making him laugh harder, and you smiled as his big hands closed around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You moved your hands to his broad shoulders, closing your eyes as you looped your arms around his neck. His hands slowly slid up your back, pushing you closer as his voice pitched deeper, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Now, see? This isn’t so bad, is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head, moving closer to the warmth of his chest. 

“No, it’s not bad at all.”

Steve nodded, opening his eyes when you leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. 

“Where is this coming from?” “What?” “This. You’ve never acted this way around me.”

Steve nodded. 

“Is it okay?”

You gave a soft laugh. 

“It’s more than okay. I just … I’m having trouble … wrapping my mind around it.” “The fact that I want you?”

Your eyes widened, eyebrows raising. Steve nodded, continuing the slow movement of his hands up and down your back. 

“Let’s just say I … had some things put in perspective.” “Are you sure nothing happened while we were gone?”

Steve smiled. 

“Nothing earth-shattering.” “Are you okay?”

He nodded, eyes scanning over your face, one hand drifting to finger the ends of your ponytail. You smiled, a shiver running through your body when his calloused fingers brushed against your spine. 

“You okay?”

You nodded, feeling your breath quicken as Steve leaned closer to you. Your eyes drifted closed as his lips touched yours, and you fought to keep yourself upright. His lips coaxed yours open, and you couldn’t stop the moan when his tongue slid against yours. You let the kiss go on just a bit more, then you stepped away, every nerve ending in your body screaming for you to get back nestled against him. You lifted a shaky hand to your lips and shook your head. 

“We … we can’t …” “Why the fuck not?”

You arched an eyebrow, a smile playing at your lips. Anyone who thought Steve Rogers was an “aw, shucks, ma’am,” “watch your language, son” kind of guy was sadly mistaken. The man had a mouth that would make a sailor blush with shame, something only exacerbated by close proximity to one James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Steve—“ “No. Give me one good reason why we can’t.”

You shook your head. 

“Because we work together.” “That’s a lame, bullshit excuse and you know it.”

Your eyes widened. 

“Where is this coming from?”

He gave an exasperated exhale, turning to face you. 

“All my life, I’ve done what’s right. I got my ass kicked by standing up to bullies, I got turned away from so many Army physicals that I lost count, and then I became Captain America. I turned my back on everything I’d ever known, giving what I thought was my life to save the world. Ever since coming out of the ice, I’ve still been the same old Steve. Still doing the right thing, still fighting.”

He stopped, only then realizing how he’d been pacing the room, turning to find you sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him. He blinked, chest aching with the feeling of you belonging in this room, in his bed, shaking his head as he turned to face you. 

“I’ve always done what was right, what was expected of me, and I’ve never once thought of myself.”

He shook his head, walking over to you. 

“I think it’s time I did something for me. Something that I want.” “You want to be selfish.” “For once in my life, yes.”

He stood in front of you, crouching down until he was on your level. 

“Do you think you could stand that?”

You tilted your head to the side as he moved a hand to cover your own. 

“Could you let me be selfish with you?” “I’m not going to be the princess locked away in the tower. I can’t do that, Steve.” “I’d never ask that of you.” “And I don’t want to be your dirty little secret.” “No, that’s not …”

He blew out a breath and you turned your hand over in his, lacing your fingers together. He lifted his eyes to yours and you smiled. 

“I don’t know if we could ever have a ‘normal’ relationship. Not as Avengers.”

He lowered his eyes, staring at your entwined hands. He nodded, his voice pitching lower. 

“You’re right. We’ll never be normal. But I … I’d like the chance to grab little pockets of normal any chance I could. And I’d like to do it with you.” “Like what?” “Like … anything. Let’s take a drive or take a vacation. Watch movies and stupid shit on Netflix. Let me cook you breakfast and kiss you dirty in the shower.”

Your eyebrows jumped at that, and Steve lifted his head, giving a soft laugh as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You like the sound of that?” “Very much.”

He laughed again, and you moved your other hand to trap his hand between yours. 

“I want you to know that as enticing as this sounds, I am not a foregone conclusion. I want to be wined and dined, Cap. I’m not just going to fall into bed with you.”

He made a face, tilting his head. 

“Are you sure about that? Anyway I might could persuade you otherwise?”

You laughed as his free hand crawled beneath the hem of your shirt, and you yanked your hands from him and clamped them on your shirt. 

“I’m not easy, Cap. And don’t you even think about making a smartass remark right now.”

He laughed, pulling his hand away from you, holding them up beside his head. He stood to his feet, offering you a hand. You put your hand in his, gasping when he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. Your hands went to rest against his chest, and one of his arms encircled your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. He lowered his lips to yours and you were thankful for his strength, because you really couldn’t keep yourself upright on your own. Your hands moved to his thick shoulders, and you moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. The hand he had on the back of your head moved you how he wanted, and that very fact sent tingles up and down your spine. 

Steve moved his hands to your hips, wordlessly encouraging you to jump, which you did, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walked over to the wall, pressing you against it as you moaned again, gasping when he rolled his hips against yours, the bulge in his sweats igniting fires within you. 

He moved to kiss your neck, down to the neck of your shirt, and you moaned, hissing out a breath when you felt the scrape of his teeth. 

“I know you … probably don’t believe—oh god, right there.”

Steve smiled against your skin, gently sucking the spot he’d just hit, reveling in the feel of your nails digging into his shoulders. You whimpered, breath heaving from your lungs as he dipped his tongue beneath the V of your shirt, wetting your collarbone. 

“Christ.” “Just ‘Steve’ is fine.”

You laughed as you swatted his shoulder, and he lifted his head to smile at you. You shook your head, a shaky hand lifting to brush through his hair. 

“I know you probably don’t believe the whole ‘I’m not easy’ spiel I just gave you, but …” “Nah, I believe you.” “Do you, though? I mean, we haven’t even had our first date and you’ve got me pressed against the wall.”

Steve looked around, as though he was just now noticing your positions, and you giggled. He started to move and you grabbed his shoulders, shaking your head. 

“I’m not complaining!”

He gave a soft laugh and you shrugged. 

“So I may be a little easy, but I’m usually not like this.” “Really?” “Guess you just bring it out in me.” “Good to know.”

He kissed you again, hands going to your thighs and gently unwrapping you from around him. He set you on your feet and smiled at the quiet noise of displeasure you made. He moved his hands to the wall on either side of your head, looking down at you. You blinked slowly, looking up at him through your lashes as a smile crept over his face. 

“You busy tomorrow?”

You shook your head. 

“The usual schedule. Training in the morning, a meeting with Tony scheduled for noon, but will most likely be pushed back to whenever he crawls out of bed.”

Steve smiled.

“Be ready by six.” “AM or PM?”

He raised an eyebrow at your cheeky grin. 

“Eighteen hundred hours.”

“Roger that, Cap.”

He leaned in closer, and your eyes drifted shut, face lifting the slightest bit … eyes flying open when his lips lingered against your cheek. His hand drifted to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze, stepping away from you. You blinked a few times as you stared up at him and he glanced towards the bed, biting his bottom lip. 

“Invitation’s always there.”

You felt your cheeks burn and you slowly nodded. 

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that ... once we get to know each other a little better.”

Steve nodded, and you smiled at him before you made your way to his door. You held your hand on the knob, swallowing hard, trembling just the tiniest bit before you straightened your shoulders and walked away. 

When the door closed behind you, Steve’s legs gave out and he collapsed on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, cock throbbing in his pants, and he shook his head, lifting both hands to push through his hair. 

Kissing you was everything he’d imagined it to be. He craved the feeling of your lips against his, and he had to physically restrain himself to keep from running down the hall to your room. He didn’t even care if it ended with sex or not. He just wanted to be near you. 

He’d gone too long without seeing you, hearing your voice. 

Touching you. 

He closed his eyes as he thought back to this day, but the way he remembered it. He hadn’t gone on the mission, choosing to sit this one out to see if the team could handle it. Of course they had, coming home and greeting him, your soft voice and gentle smiles tucking themselves away in his heart. You’d gone to debrief by yourself, meeting up with the team for dinner while he left to check on a lead in finding Bucky. 

You and he had always been like two ships passing in the night. Never meeting, just cursory greetings, barely touching at all. He’d loved you from afar, and when he’d lost you …

He squeezed his eyes shut at that horrible memory, sitting up and dragging his hands over his face. He blew out a breath and stood up, stripping off his shirt and heading for the shower.

TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @chonkychornes, @sarcasm-myfriend, @patzammit, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @sallyp-53, @moodymcu, @angrybirdcr, @bellaireland1981, @brittanymcsharry, @free-2bmee, @laneygthememequeen, @iwritesmutsandfluff, @captain-rogers-beard, @geeksareunique, @alexxcorona113, @iluvsumbucky, @readermia, @buckmecaptain, @jennmurawski13, @emmandhercoffecrisp, @geekysimmerthings, @deidrashouseofpain, @idjitmonkey, @peaceinourtime82, @fallenoutofrose, @anika-ann, @superavengerpotterstar, @nerdgirljen, @thefanficfaerie, @adaliamalfoy, @rinthehufflepuff, @fallenoutofrose, @scentedsongrebel​, @badassbaker​

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: strong language, very little fluff/smut? (it turns out I don’t know what I’m writing about at this point hahaha)  Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I must say, I wasn't expecting to upload this story at all. And here we are, in the middle of what I have already written. And I haven't even got to the ending... let's say I'm gonna torture you with this story till you'll have enough of it. 😋

Today's chapter is the longest so far, hope you'll enjoy it. The first time I'm not giving hints about what will happen in the next chapter. I hope you like mysteries!😘

~ 2600 words

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

Chapter 11

The smell of sweat filled the room.

Another scream echoed between the walls when Lily went flying through the whole length of the gym, finally hitting the floor.

"Again," Kamilah's cold voice was repeating the same word over and over.

Amy buried her face in her hands. She was sitting on the floor against the mirror on the wall. They were in the private training hall which apparently, Kamilah had in her company building.

"Come on," Lily panted, barely standing on her feet. "How can you not even stumble a little?!"

Indeed, for this whole time, Kamilah was barely touchable. The only moments when Kamilah was within Lily's reach happened because the woman by herself let her to. There was no sweat on Kamilah's body, no heavy breathing coming out of her lungs. She kept her upright posture the whole time. The only thing that had been changing was the color of her eyes, which turned red every time Lily planned to attack.

"Because I'm focusing, unlike you," Kamilah growled, annoyed.

Lily steadied her body. It was easy to recognize that she was losing her temper. Pain and exhaustion were reaching their limits within her. After each strike, her wounds healed impossibly fast, which was the advantage of being a newly turned. But it has its cons too. Her body was regularly devastated and healed.

And even the healing process could hurt sometimes depending on the injury.

Lily looked at Kamilah one more time, searching for weak points in her defensive position. Finally, she attacked, using her vampire speed, which made everything go blurry before Amy's eyes.

And then one more time: sounds of loud breaths, punching, scream, and Lily was on the floor writhing in pain.

Amy stood up momentarily, wanting to help her friend. She had an impulse to do it whenever Lily fell on the floor. And like every time before, now too, Kamilah's red eyes stopped her from doing this. The woman wanted the newly turned vampire to handle herself without help.

"Again," Kamilah was always ready.

"No," Lily stood up, her cracked bones healed loudly, making her bend in pain. "We did it like a hundred times, no more," sweat all over her face.

Amy knew already how this would turn out. Kamilah's eyes were still red. Not because of the fight this time, but the rage that burned inside of her. There was not much that Amy could do in this situation, so she stayed silent and watched the women.

"Do you realize that you are in no position to argue?" Kamilah's voice sharp like it could cut through anything. "The meeting will begin in a few hours. That doesn't give us much time to improve your skills."

"Yeah, exactly!" Lily shouted. "What's the point of all of this?" she made a gesture showing the training hall.

"Degree of your training might be our only chance to convince the Council from giving you a death sentence," Kamilah frowned at how reckless Lily acted.

Since they had no time anymore on convincing members of the Council before the meeting, they had to come up with a new idea. Adrian reminded Kamilah that back in the days the Council used to make its decisions based on how well trained the newly turned vampire was.

Kamilah did great by training Lily. And the girl by herself made enormous progress. But still, Kamilah was afraid that it might not have been enough. And she needed to be sure that it would be, thinking of Adrian's fate.

"I know," Lily became upset. At this point, Amy had a remarkably hard time standing in one place. "Just give me a break, ok?"

"Fifteen minutes," Kamilah ordered.

Lily inhaled deeply and turned to the exit. Finally, Amy moved into her direction, wanting to comfort her. But, to her great astonishment, that was not what her friend needed at the time.

"Don't, seriously," Lily didn't even bother to look at her. "I wanna be alone right now."

Amy stopped heartbroken. They had known each other for very long. Amy had time to learn that the best she could do in such moments was to let her be. No matter how hard it was for her to resist the urge of hugging Lily and telling her that she did great, it would do more harm than good.

Finally, Amy composed herself and turned around to Kamilah, feeling angry at her.

The woman walked to the corner of the hall, where she left her things. She drank water from the bottle and took off her training gloves, throwing them to the opened bag.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," Amy's voice was full of complaint.

"Live won't be easy for her either," Kamilah turned to face the girl. "Besides, I wasn't harsh. I'm sure even you could have dealt with it."

Amy's eyes raised. She was surprised by Kamilah's statement, and looking at her made Amy believe in the woman's words even less.

Kamilah stood in front of her wearing a black, simple sports bra and leggings. Her hair back into a loose ponytail, letting some of the hair fell from behind her ears. Her darker complexion was shining from the effort she put in training Lily. Muscles in her body highlighted by the faint light that was reaching the corner. Amy looked into her eyes and swallowed nervously.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I truly doubt that,"

Amy wanted to turn from Kamilah when she felt her hand grabbing Amy by the wrist swirling her around till she stood with her back against Kamilah's chest. The grip on Amy's wrist was still solid when Kamilah lowered her head to her neck, making Amy shiver.

"Why don't you let me prove you wrong?" a sweet whisper from Kamilah's mouth straight into the soft skin.

Amy barely stopped the moan from escaping her mouth when the other hand moved from her hip, up to her waist. Slowly getting under her shirt, like she was waiting for a reaction.

You're angry at her, remember? Amy told herself in thoughts and with difficulty broke free from Kamilah's grip, causing her smirk with satisfaction.

"All right, I'll try," Amy's breath quickened already. "I can't see how this is supposed to prove anything since your way much stronger and faster."

"I won't use my advantages," Kamilah ensured, taking the position. "Try to hit me."

Amy inhaled deeply, showing a lack of confidence. But despite doubts, she made a fist out of her right palm. And when she wanted to attack, hesitation hit her with doubled strength.

"This is ridiculous," Amy laughed nervously.

"Of course, it is when you're preparing yourself to..." Kamilah said ironically.

Then, Amy hit her, acting impulsively. She certainly caught the woman off guard, but still, Kamilah blocked her effortlessly. She made Amy stumble a little, but there was no pain after Kamilah's defending move.

"Not bad," Kamilah said honestly, "try again."

"Oh no, I know how it goes with your 'again'..." Amy made an impression of Kamilah quite adequately.

Amy wanted to say something more, but she sensed the attack coming before Kamilah even planned to do this. Thanks to that, Amy dodged to the side at the right time, making Kamilah lose full strength on the missed attack.

The woman turned around with an impressed expression on her face.

"How did you do that?" Kamilah couldn't hide how dazzled she was.

"Um..." Amy looked at her own hands.

Then, Kamilah attacked again, trying to prove her theory.

Amy blocked every attack in a similar way that Kamilah did previously. The girl wasn't impossibly strong or agile. She just knew where Kamilah would hit and with what force.

After a series of attacks, Kamilahs stopped, her breath increased.

"This is quite a discovery," this time, the woman took Amy's hand gently, trying to figure out how was it even possible for someone without training to achieve something like that.

She didn't use her vampire abilities, but still. Amy was not muscular, her arms were weak, and she could not even beat properly.

"I guess," Amy smiled, but it was weird for her too. "I'm just better at defending myself."

"That's for sure," Kamilah stopped examining Amy, but her hand was still resting on her arm.

They stood close for long seconds, looking into each other's eyes.

Then, they heard a throat clearing, which ruined the moment.

"I don't wanna interrupt or something," Lily stood in the entrance, smiling widely. Her mood went back to its normal state.

Amy blushed, stepping away from Kamilah. The woman looked at the clock hanging on the wall to see that twenty minutes had passed.

"You're late," Kamilah stated a fact.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Lily couldn't help but tease.

"Why don't you find out and try to fight me?" Kamilah crossed her arms, with a daring look in her eyes.

Lily's smile faded when she understood that she just made her own existence a lot harder.

***

It was the hour of the Council meeting. Amy was told to stay in Kamilah's office while the rest of them went to the conference room to meet with the others from the Council. Amy knew that one of them would be Priya, and she doubted if the woman would vote on Lily's side.

There was the Baron who was at least likable from the men of the Council. Kamilah was sure that they would have to make a deal with him to persuade him on voting- aye. But nothing was certain with this vampire.

She heard about Lester. That Adrian had an argument with him recently, so they didn't even count on his vote.

There was their new Clan leader, Jax. He would undoubtedly vote on Lily's side since he knew how it felt to be Clanless. He remembered constant fear of becoming feral too well.

The last one was Adam Vega, the least predictable. He appeared fine but always needed more power. His vote depended on how beneficial the whole situation would turn out for him.

***

Amy kept walking from desk to doors, with her arms crossed.

It has been nearly an hour since the meeting started. How long could it take? She was curious about how Lily performed her skills before the Council members. If they even wanted to test how well trained she was.

Finally, Adrian walked in, making Amy jump.

"And?" she couldn't wait anymore.

Adrian looked at her with his eyes full of tiredness.

"It's not looking good," he said honestly, "We need to convince Adam to vote on our side," he was deadly serious. "He wants to talk with you."

"What?" Amy was shocked. "Why me?"

"He is considering you a threat," Adrian didn't have to put this gently. "He wants to know how did you manage to convince me to turn Lily. Of course, you don't have to agree on this if you don't want to."

Amy straightened up, feeling ready.

"I do," she forced a confident smile, "we win this today."

Amy followed Adrian to the conference room. When they walked in, the first person that she saw was Kamilah sitting in the most important seat. She was looking through the window, frowning.

Lily was standing by the wall, she wasn't smiling like before. Amy wondered what had happened there in her absence because the tension in the air seemed almost touchable.

Kamilah could smell Amy's perfume, and that's what made her took her eyes off the city. She was surprised to see the girl standing in the room next to Adrian.

"Adrian," her voice cold, "I thought we made a decision."

Adrian gulped unsurely under Kamilah's gaze. He hated to disagree with her.

"I..." he started, but Amy interrupted.

"You wanted to talk with me," her eyes moved to Adam, who was sitting between Priya and Lester.

"I did," he smiled, "I wanted to meet this infamous human being."

He looked over Amy's body like he was worried that someone of her average height could be a threat to him. Amy fought the urge to correct her pose as she managed to hold his gaze.

Priya obviously recognized Amy even if nearly 4 months had passed since they met. The fashion designer laughed loudly and spoke with irony.

"So first you're making me fire my employee... and then, Adrian to change your friend into the vampire," she licked her lips hungrily. "You've got some nerve."

Amy stepped nervously. She knew that Priya's words were not working in the interest of this case. And as she predicted, Adam became even more suspicious toward her.

"How could someone owning such a weak body, convince the most powerful creature walking on Earth to do something against its will," Adam said, wondering.

Amy could sense that Kamilah was trying her best, not interrupting.

"I would say that I can be pretty convincing," Amy smiled sweetly, trying to buy herself some time to collect her thoughts.

"I can see this happening," he said, scratching his beard. "But still, what Adrian could have from saving your friend? What could you possibly give him?"

I'm a fucking Bloodkeeper, Amy's thoughts screamed. She wasn't sure if she should have ever trusted Adrian or Kamilah. But, one thing was clear, Adam was far away from gaining her appreciation.

"Listen to me, Vega," Amy spoke with a strength in her voice, making everyone in the room freeze. "I know that I'm in the way. The human who knows about vampires... it can not be convenient." Adam wanted to deny, but she kept going, "You would like to kill me to keep me quiet, but it's against the rules," she was looking directly into his eyes. "On the other hand, a human who knows about vampires is... also against the rules.'' Noone interrupted her. ''There is only one solution."

Amy made a pause, giving everyone a chance to rethink her words. She knew she was walking a fine line, but there was no way back.

Vega seemed to be shocked by Amy's confidence. Actually, everyone in the room was, even herself. Words just left her mouth like she was a completely different person.

"Then, Amy," Adam said, "what solution would you suggest?"

Exactly, what do you suggest, Amy thought. It's not like she wasn't prepared or anything. She felt more afraid now that it would not be enough.

"We make a deal," Amy gulped, partially losing her confidence. "You, vote aye, and I..." that wasn't smart, she knew that right now, "will owe you a favor."

Everyone in the room moved significantly after those words. Adam let out a whistle as he was considering Amy's offer.

"That's not an option," Kamilah stood up, losing control.

Lily wanted to say something, but Adrian stopped her, keeping her by the arm. He didn't want things to go any more complicated than they already had become.

"Why would I want your favor?" Adam asked, ignoring Kamilah's words.

"You said it yourself," Amy kept his gaze. "How could I control two different vampires, "she kept on repeating his words, changing her tone to more sarcastic. "The most powerful creatures walking on Earth, right?" her left eyebrow lifted for a moment.

Adam leaned back in his chair. He kept on scratching his beard.

In the room fell silence of anticipation.

"Aye, then," Adam's voice, loudly cutting through the silence.

Kamilah let out a breath after hearing this. She should feel happy and relieved because they won. Lily was saved from becoming feral. Adrian, free from punishment. But at what cost?

Right then, Amy realized that she started playing a remarkably dangerous game.

And she was just the beginner since they all had been playing in it for centuries.

Next chapter: 12

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

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds