#am i missing any tags i don’t think so but anyway this is unedited

[luvrodite]

real love, baby [1210]

a post-wedding moment between newlyweds (fluff, suggestive content but sfw)

“Can I see your hand?”

Jason passes it over his lap wordlessly, and you shift on your elbows to get a better look. The silver band wrapped around his finger glints in the lowlight, and you sink your teeth into your lip to fight back the squeal bubbling in your throat. Flicking your eyes up, you find blue-green eyes on you, a similar grin playing on his lips.

“Let me see yours,” he demands and you let go of his hand to sit up from where you’d been lounging on your stomach. You’re careful with the swathes of white fabric you’re still covered in as you move, the reception dress pooling around you as you extend your hand at him. Playfully, you wiggle your fingers at him, letting the ring catch the light. The pretty diamond winks at you, and you can’t help the little sigh that expels from your lips.

The hour is late and you ought to be getting to bed, but the excitement of the day has yet to settle, love curling in your stomach and wrapping tight around you. The both of you had been eager to escape the reception, dreamy as it had been, and the moment the door to your hotel room had shut you’d fallen back onto the plush sheets of the massive bed with a loud breath. Jason had quickly followed suit, but not before kicking off his dress shoes and slipping your own off, slumping on your left in the black tux you’d had a hard time dragging your eyes away from all evening.

“Mine now,” he breathes out, fingers circling your wrist. “Officially. I’ve got the papers to prove it.”

You grin. “Possessive, aren’t we?”

He inclines forward to nip at your neck and you squirm, giggling, batting him away. “You would be, if you were me. ‘Sides, don’t act like you’re any better. Feels like I’m getting mauled anytime you get your hands on me.”

Your smile stretches from ear to ear, it feels like, as you topple forward to kiss his face, arms coming around his neck. The movement is wobbly, the mattress underneath your knees too soft to remain upright, and you fall into his lap.

“Yes, well,” you sigh. “How else was I supposed to let everyone know you were taken? You have this ring now, but it would’ve been anybody’s guess, before.”

You can feel the metal of his ring press into the small of your back through the fabric of your dress. Jason mutters something, your ears catching the word menace, and tips his face up to catch your mouth with his.

“How’s it feel?” you mumble against his lips. When he pulls away, you giggle at the smear of gloss around his mouth. “You’re a husband now.”

He shrugs. “Knew I was gonna be when I met you,” he says baldly, and you blink. “Just feels like things are the way they’re meant to be, now.”

“What?” you titter, a little stunned, still smiling.

He shifts back to lean against the headboard, hands clasped around you. “I just mean that I knew you were it. Took one look at you and I felt it. Intuition, or something.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” you tease, but you can’t help the way your heart thumps a little harder when he shakes his head simply, blue-green eyes focused on you solemnly.

“I’m serious.”

And maybe it’s the heightened emotions that have been running rampant all day, but tears pool in your lash line so suddenly his face shifts into one of concern as you croak out his name pitifully.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he coos, and you shake your head, tilting forward to kiss him. A stray tear brushes past your lashes and he laughs goodnaturedly, thumb swiping it away.

“Silly, didn’t I do enough cryin’ for the both of us today?” he chides and it prompts a watery laugh out of you at the memory of your teary fiancé standing at the altar, gulping back the lump in his throat and failing miserable as you walked towards him.

“My turn now,” you murmur through giggles. “Who said you get a monopoly on being emotional?”

“You must’ve missed the notice in the paper.” You swat him half heartedly, and he shakes with laughter.

“Stupid,” you mutter and his fingers dig into your sides.

“Yeah, but you still married me,” he says breezily and you squeal when he brushes against your ribs. The smile on his face is radiant, smug and proud, brighter than the diamond gleaming on the finger he’d slid your ring on.

“I did,” you breathe out, laughter in your voice. “No getting rid of me now.”

His mouth quirks, gazing fondly down at you. “Good.”

There’s a bottle of something bubbly in a bucket of ice alongside two flutes on a tray nearby, and Jason deposits you on the bed to retrieve it, the loud POP it makes eliciting a stream of giggles from you. He joins you soon after, handing you your glass.

Propped against the headboard with his shoulder pressed against yours, you hold your glass up to him. “A toast?”

“Baby,” he huffs out a tired laugh, “I’ve lost count of how many toasts we’ve had tonight.”

“What’s one more?” you wheedle and he sighs in acquiescence. When you look over, his cheeks are flushed, and a quiet smile plays on his lips.

“Sure,” he murmurs. Tipping his chin for you to go on, he adds, “What’s your toast?”

You hum thoughtfully, before you start to laugh. “To Bruce’s face when Dick started dancing with my aunt.”

He throws his head back at that, barking out a laugh. “Sure, I’ll drink to that.”

Your glasses clink together, and you take a sip, the bubbles making you cough a little as they float up to your nose. You nudge him.

“Your turn.”

He thinks for a moment, eyes lighting up gleefully. “To Damian having to pass Dick a tissue when he started crying before we could make our speeches.”

Your brother-in-law’s face had had the both of you hiding behind your cards, and now makes you burst into laughter all over again, face flushing as you gasp for breath.

“Poor Dami,” you murmur in between titters, your drink sloshing precariously in your glass as you tremble.

“We all knew it was going to happen,” Jason tells you, wiping away a tear, lips twitching as he tries to keep a straight face. “He just came prepared.”

The volume of liquid in your glasses steadily decreases as the night grows darker. Slumped against your husband’s side, the two of you recount the reception and the various events that had occurred during its course. You propose toasts until your glasses are empty, at which point Jason takes them and places them on the floor beside your bed so that he can kiss you.

Tucked under his arm and exchanging sleepy kisses, you peer through your lashes at him. Haloed and smudged by your blurry vision, he appears before you with all the qualities of a dream.

“Mine now?” you ask against his lips, slowly being lowered into the mattress.

He hovers over your body, mouth swollen and eyes half-lidded.

“Always was.”

had this in my drafts for ages and finally got around to finishing it. i just think being so lovesick and giggly and newlywed and forever is something that can be so personal….oh to marry your best friend….

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 57

@jasminemohmed - hi! I am new to tumblr could I make a request? what if Marc takes baby scarab with him to visit his father in Chicago and Elias asking him if she's his daughter, and shows her around?

~~~

@yassmeenabass-deactivated2022101 - hey could I request for baby scarab? what if she goes with marc to visit marc's father in chicago and him showing her the city and elias asking marc if she's his daughter

~~~

A/N : sorry for leaving it unedited for a while, ignore if you already read this and werent tagged until now

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : THERE IS NO MORE SCHEDULE, IM SORRY also thank you all sm for the support and requests :)))

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, angst, very rushed and hard to read. let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

today was the day. you had to go apologize to casper’s family for potentially getting him killed.

you brought a small bouquet of flowers for casper, they were lilies since he told you he thought they were pretty.

marc was walking with you down the sidewalk, holding onto your hand that wasn’t occupied with the flowers to make sure you were comfortable, and wouldn’t sneak away and hide back at home.

he was also going to be talking to grace, to explain everything to her.

she was grateful while talking to him on the phone, grateful for you and marc for making sure his son was safe.

you both walked up to the door and marc knocked, only waiting a couple seconds before the door opened.

grace had answered the door, and she gave a genuine smile to both of you.

it was small, but it was there.

“come in, there are snacks if you’d like any” grace says gently, gesturing for you and marc to come inside and you do.

you just stood in the foyer, while marc and grace stood talking in hushed voices at the island that was in the middle of the kitchen.

grace looked to you for a moment before smiling again.

“casper is in his room. he mentioned wanting to talk to you” she says and you nod, slowly making your way inside the house and towards casper’s door.

you heard grace and marc talking, but you didn’t want to know what they were saying.

it was probably bad anyways.

casper’s door was only open a sliver, and you just stood there staring at it for a second before knocking on the doorframe.

you heard movement until the door opened, and you were face to face with casper.

he surprisingly grinned at you and opened the door wider for you to come in, so you do hesitantly and silently.

“casper.. i’m sorry-“

“don’t. don’t even start” he begins, so you sigh and hold up the flowers.

“i got these for you. it’s- it’s stupid..” you shake your head, deciding to stare down at your shoes.

casper takes them from your hand gently, and after that you put your hands in your pockets.

he smiles and stares down at them, recognizing them. “my favorite. you remembered” he says and you nod, avoiding looking at him at all.

“it’s literally the least i could do” you mumble.

“you remembered because you’re a good person” casper points out and you scoff.

“i wasn’t a good person when i murdered someone in front of you” you start, and casper’s smile fades. “you almost died just because you know me” you finally look up to him.

“it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know-“

“casper stop! do you know what that would’ve done?! if you died?!” you exclaim, making him just stare in silence to let you finish your rant.

“think about your family, it would’ve torn them apart. you are all they have, and i almost took that away” you take a heavy breath.

“and it would’ve been on me. i’m lucky marc got there in time or.. you would’ve..” you can’t finish the sentence, and that’s when casper sets the flowers down on his desk to come up to you, taking your shoulders in his hands.

“but it didn’t happen that way-“

“why aren’t you mad at me?” you cut him off and he blinks at you a few times, making you think of the worst.

“you’re scared of me” you state and casper’s eyes widen.

“no i’m not! i could never” he shakes his head, but you give him a look.

“casper.. i…. i think we should maybe.. take a break. see other people” you change the subject and you could almost hear his heart stop.

“..what..? you don’t-“

“you’re not safe with me, you’d be better off with somebody else” you feel tears gather in your eyes.

“i don’t want somebody else, i want you” he argues but you take his hands off your shoulders.

“but i put you in danger, you have to understand that” you try to reason and he shakes his head with a stern look on his face.

“i am in love with you, y/n!” he raises his voice, making your mouth snap shut to listen to him.

“i- i wouldn’t be able to do this without you, and nothing can change that. ever”

“i killed someone, casper” you say quietly but he just scoffs.

“he was already dead to begin with, and he was manipulating you, and you know it” he starts. “he wanted you to ‘lose’ everything so that you would join them” he puts the word lose in air quotes.

you just stare up and nod slowly.

“i’m sorry” you let a tear fall halfway down your cheek. “i’m so sorry” casper pulls you to him gently, wrapping his arms around you while you bury your face in his neck.

you feel yourself choke on a sob before throwing your arms around casper’s neck while you freely cry into his shoulder.

casper was perfectly patient. he waited for you to calm down, and he would wait as long as it took no matter what.

it was only 5 minutes that went by where you made no move to detach yourself from him, but you did so eventually.

you refused to look up at him though, opting to stare at the floor again.

“please look at me” casper whispers, not able to bring his voice any louder.

he had tears in his eyes as well, but he refused to let them fall.

you slowly look up to him, so that you were looking him in the eye.

“say it wasn’t your fault. i need you to mean it this time” he tells you, and you hesitate before opening your mouth, bottom lip still wobbling.

“i.. it wasn’t my fault” you say quietly while bringing your arms around yourself to appear smaller.

“you saved me. you and your dad, you’re both heroes” he tells you and you look back up at him.

“are you sure?” you ask and he nods, lifting his hands up to hold your face in them.

“i’ve never been more sure about anything in my life” he tells you honestly.

you felt yourself smile a bit against your will, so you lean forward quickly to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

casper smiles at you, and takes you into another hug, this time you smile as well.

“i’m so glad you’re okay. i promise i’ll never let that happen again, i swear” you tell him and he nods.

“i’m counting on it” casper grins.

~~~

meanwhile with grace and marc, she was explaining how the whole situation wasn’t a big deal since casper was saved, but there was another issue.

reginald.

he acted as if he didn’t care that his son almost died, which broke graces heart.

she loved her kids, but reginald didn’t even try with them. always pointing out their mistakes and dragging them down.

he hasn’t even been home, claiming to be on a business trip.

“it’s hard because i can’t find a decent paying job, and reginald is our only source of income” grace starts.

“if i could have it my way, i would’ve left him a long time ago. he just.. he has a hold over me” she sighs and marc nods.

“if you need a place to stay with no strings attached, i know someone who could help you out” he says softly and grace smiles gratefully at him.

“as much as i’d like to, i can’t. it was til death do us part, and besides this is the only place my children have known” she explains.

“if you’re sure then i won’t pressure you, but if you change your mind our door is always open” marc tells her and she nods.

that was when you and casper both came out of his room, and marc looked at you with that one look on his face.

you just raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a thumbs up with pursed lips.

“i’m guessing it went well?” grace asks, noticing the flowers casper had in his hand.

well, the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

you could tell marc was about to say something, but his phone, which was sitting face up on the arm of the couch next to him started ringing, and it displayed a name you didn’t recognize.

marc’s eyes widened a fraction and turned his phone to silent, slipping it into his pocket.

he cleared his throat. “well uh.. we better get going then” marc starts. “you both need to actually go to school tomorrow” he finishes his sentence while getting up.

grace gave him a thankful smile, to which he returned it.

“thank you grace, for understanding the situation” marc says, coming towards you to guide you towards the door, causing you to leave casper’s side to follow.

you could barely say goodbye to casper or grace before marc rushed the both of you out, speed walking down the sidewalk while marc’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

“marc, who’s elias?” you ask but he doesn’t answer.

elias. the name that was displayed on the screen of marcs phone.

you didn’t know anyone by the name, and you were almost sure he didn’t either.

well, not so sure now.

“marc-“

“nobody, let’s just get home”

“but-“

“y/n please” he breaths out and you nod once.

“sorry” you mumble, and he just keeps walking.

~~~

marc had gone to take a call about a half hour ago.

he locked himself in the bathroom to talk to whoever this was and you could count the amount of times he said something decent on one hand.

though it was a bit muffled through the door, you could hear that he tried to keep quiet and ended up gritting out words through his teeth.

you heard him mention steven a few times too.

you really weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help that you had extremely sensitive hearing now.

you could even hear neighbors washing dishes.

about a floor below you.

marc frustratingly unlocks the door and walks out, making eye contact with you.

“how much did you hear?” he questions and you shrug.

“close to nothing” you say semi honestly.

he just shortly nods and you notice a change in posture before realizing that jake was the one coming over to sit next to you.

“i hope marc knows i didn’t mean to upset him earlier” you speak into the air.

“he does” marc himself speaks up.

“..he’s having a rough time right now, princesa. it’s..” jake tries to find the right words but just ends up completely rewording it.

“it’s his father. his- our? father is who marc was on the phone with” jake starts to explain.

“and we haven’t seen him since.. since well… wendy’s shiva” he tells you in a more hushed voice.

you nod and look down at your knees, just thinking.

you should never have said anything. it’s not like you knew but you were insensitive.

“but you didn’t go in, is that why you don’t want to see him?” steven asks marc.

“well that and the fact that y/n has to go to school tomorrow” he starts and you sigh. “she already missed her first day and i can’t just leave her here by herself”

“what if i went with you?”

“you’d miss more school”

“well yeah, but marc think about it” you begin. “he probably misses you. how would you feel if i disappeared for years?”

marc stays quiet so you take that as a silent win.

“that’s different. and i’m not telling you how because you saw it” he tells you.

you looked down in thought while jake wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him.

“are you.. are you sure you’d want to come with?” marc asks quietly and you nod, looking at him through a small handheld mirror on the coffee table.

he just sighs and brings his hands up to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“fuck it” he scoffs at himself. “we’re going to america”

~~~

so that’s how you ended up where you were now.

in a private jet that jake somehow owned, claiming he knew a guy.

your first time in a plane was to go to america while marc was having an internal crisis.

he sat across from you staring out of the window while you chewed on some ice to try and get your ears back to normal after they popped when you took off.

you felt terrible leaving casper, but he told you it was completely fine and he’ll be there waiting for when you get back.

but first you made him promise to be safe and have some sort of weapon on him just in case on his walk to school the next day.

you both already missed your first day of senior year, and now you were missing your second and possibly third.

all because of the situation.

you didn’t feel like thinking about it right now or ever again just for the sake of your sanity.

what you had to think about was the fact that he wasn’t lying when he said he loved you and it was okay.

“so, first time in america, yeah? me too- well- not exactly actually” steven starts, but ends up mumbling to himself.

“what state are we going to?” you ask and steven stops mumbling to answer.

“illinois. chicago to be specific” he starts. “i only remember some things, but i’m sure you’ll enjoy it” he gives you a lopsided smile.

“and are we there yet?”

“about 30 minutes”

you groan out of annoyance at his answer, and lean your head back in your seat.

“jake how did you even afford this?” you ask, referring to the private plane you were currently in.

“i maxed out marc’s credit card a couple years ago” he chuckles to himself.

“i’m sorry, years?” marc scolds his alter. “you’re an ass, you know that?”

“si”

marc just shakes his head then looks to you.

“i can’t believe i’m letting you take a day off school to make me talk to my father” he scoffs. “i mean, the last time i saw him i was drinking outside.. and then i.. that’s when…” you could tell he wasn’t exactly comfortable going into detail about the subject.

“you don’t have to tell me what happened” you start. “what was he like?” you ask instead, hoping he’ll think of good memories.

you felt terrible for marc. ever since you both saw each other’s memories you’ve felt so bad.

he didn’t deserve it, and it certainly wasn’t his fault.

he deserved so much better and he still does. you can tell that he’s suffering a bit inside.

“he always made sure i had a decent birthday, that’s for sure” he smiles to himself. “it would just be me and him in that moment”

“guess you both have something in common, huh?” you ask rhetorically and marc breaks out in a grin.

“i suppose so” he lets out a single laugh.

“i haven’t told him about you though. i was going to surprise him but.. i don’t know how he’ll react. i don’t even know why he decided to call now of all times”

“i’m sure he has a good reason.. maybe he thought you hated him” you suggest.

“what? that’s crazy i could never” marc defends himself.

“well you kinda just disappeared, mate” steven cuts in and marc shrugs.

“i was trying to give you a good life, so you can’t be pissed at me” marc says and you can see steven smiling in the windows reflection.

“so he does show emotion. i see” he says, causing marc to roll his eyes.

this is going to be a long half hour.

~~~

“oh and another thing- cars driver on the opposite sides of the road. can you believe that?” steven rants as the two of you get off the plane at a private runway somewhere in the middle of chicago.

“that’s.. pretty weird, yeah” you agree, seeing a cab pull up next to the exit.

jake fronted and guided you towards it, and you watched a man step out.

the man just gave a single nod to jake before walking away to god knows where.

jake just smiled and waved.

you got into the car, per jakes request and he glanced at you before starting the car.

“thank you for bringing me” you start, earning the attention from marc and steven.

“i know it probably hard for you” you say while looking to marc. “but uhm.. i guess i’ll be the one protecting you this time”

marc just lets out a single laugh, and shakes his head.

“i’ll be okay. we’ll be okay, i mean” he tells you and you nod.

~~~

“is that it?” you ask, looking to the house marc was staring at.

marc fronted right after jake parked, as promised.

“..yeah” he answers.

“…so are you working up the courage to get out of the car?” you ask rhetorically and marc rolls his eyes.

“no, i just regret this already” he mumbles, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door, you doing the same.

jake parked across the street, so you both had to cross the road to get to marc’s old home.

he walked as slow as he could on the road, which had almost no cars parked or driving.

he held your hand tightly in his as you walked up the couple steps.

you look to marc and see that he just stared at the door while biting down on his bottom lip.

that was a nervous habit of his, so you squeezed his hand a bit to get his attention.

he looks to you with a small but grateful smile, and takes a deep breath.

“alright, it’s now or never” he slowly brings his other hand up to turn it into a fist and knock on the door.

he seemed to tense after he did, and that’s when you heard quiet footsteps approaching from inside.

you could hear marc’s heartbeat too, and if it were any faster you’d fear for his life.

the door clicks twice before slowly opening, which revealed a man in thick framed glasses.

he reminded you of steven a bit.

he looked almost shocked to see marc, but smiles at him nonetheless.

but when his eyes shifted down to you, he looked almost confused before turning back to marc.

“you really came” he says, and marc gives a single nod.

“i had to. you.. you didn’t do anything wrong. it’s the least i can do” marc tells him quickly, and the man smiles at him before looking back to you.

“who’s this?” he asks, pointing to you.

marc squeezes your hand before answering. “this is my daughter y/n” he starts. “and y/n, this is my father, elias” he introduces.

elias breaks out into a grin, and holds a gentle hand out to you, to which you take it in your own to give a solid shake.

“it’s great to meet you- here, both of you come in, it’s getting cold out” elias offers, so you both go inside.

marc seemed more chill than you thought, since when you were on the plane you and steven made a plan where he would say positive affirmations if he noticed marc getting upset.

you all ended up around the living area, you and marc next to each other on a small couch and elias across you both in an armchair.

“..so, is she laylas?” elias asks gently and marc shakes his head.

“not exactly. we adopted her” he answers and elias raises an eyebrow.

“how long?”

“well we’ve known her since april, and we adopted her in august” marc starts, getting more comfortable. “technically she’s steven and jakes daughter too”

“now i know steven, but who’s jake? is he.. another one” elias asks, trying his best not to be too unknowingly offensive.

marc didn’t take it that way though, and answered. “yeah, jake just kind of appeared one day. and y/n here knew about it and didn’t care to tell us” marc elbows you in the ribs after he was done talking.

you turn to glare at marc, and he just smiles obnoxiously at you.

“would either of you like something to drink?” elias asks, and marc stands up hesitantly with a single nod.

“i can get water for all of us” he volunteers and you smile.

elias smiles as well gratefully. “the cups are all in the same place” he says and marc nods again, leaving the room.

now it was just you and marc’s dad. you could tell he was soft spoken, and most of all you could tell how much he had missed marc.

“you know.. i never expected marc to have kids. a daughter especially” elias tells you and you tilt your head a bit.

“he used to think kids were to fragile for this world. that they were perfect targets” he starts and sighs. “and i believe him. i hated lying to him every time i said his mother would get better”

“you knew? and you didn’t do anything about it?” you ask and elias panics before continuing.

“i did do something about it, i- i couldn’t do anything when i wasn’t home, but if i didn’t go to work everyday my boy would starve. both of them” he says quickly and you understand.

you take it upon yourself to change the subject. “so.. what was marc like as a kid?” you ask, hoping to get some dirt on him.

elias just chuckles before answering. “he used to make fun of his brothers drawing because they were always the same. a fish with only one fin”

that made you perk up. “steven had a fish with only one fin. his name was gus. but he died so now we have a gus the second. with two fins” you basically vomit words while elias smiled at you.

“and how is steven?” he asks.

“he’s good, he’s a nerd and he’s great at cooking even though he’s a vegan. he also had an identity crisis because a long time ago, he didn’t even know marc” you start ranting, and elias is delighted to listen.

“he did have a hard time with the whole khonshu thing though. and he never leaves them alone with moon knight business” you say, referring to khonshu.

“i’m sorry.. moon knight? are you saying that my son is moon knight?” elias asks and your eyes widen.

“no. he’s- i didn’t say he was moon knight” you gaslight, and you can tell he was not believing you at all.

on that note, marc decides to come back in with three glasses of water.

“what’d you guys talk about?” marc asks and you shake your head at elias, hoping he’ll get the message.

“just.. you” he answers and you let out a sigh of relief, taking the water from marc.

“why did you invite me here?” marc asks bluntly.

“i figured you would actually do it now. and i didn’t know if you were still in the marines” elias responds.

“i’ve been out of it for a long time” marc starts. “so why now?” he repeats and elias doesn’t respond.

“kid, why don’t you go wait outside for a bit” marc tells you rather than asking, and you sigh, getting up with a sorry look to elias.

after you were outside, you sat on the first step after closing the door, wondering what marc had to say that he couldn’t in front of you.

khonshu appeared to sit next to you, still towering over you in height.

“hey, i want to say thank you before i forget again” you immediately say to him, to which he tilts his head in confusion.

“for what, child?” he asks and you let out a breath, furrowing your brows right after.

“for saving marc. even if it was just to get another protecter of the night” you start. “you were a manipulative psycho but you still saved him” you look up at khonshu.

he simply nods and looks away from you. “i chose him for two reasons” he begins. “to protect the travelers of the night, and because i knew he was the best candidate. both- all of them” it wasn’t like the god to stammer over his words like that, but he did anyways.

“don’t tell him- them i said that” he tells you, and you nod, making a zipping motion over your lips.

“i won’t, promise. just thank you again, without marc or steven or jake, i would probably be dead in a ditch somewhere” you shrug.

“i doubt that very much” khonshu ends the conversation there, and that’s almost the best he can do with compliments.

with khonshu, what he said basically meant that he believes you could handle yourself just fine.

you and khonshu sat in comfortable silence for about five minutes before the door behind you opened again, revealing marc who was gesturing for you to come back inside.

and you were grateful because it was cold out. you quickly waved to khonshu before getting back up and following marc inside.

you didn’t want to pry, so you refrained from asking marc what happened.

you were now sat back down in the same spots as before, but it was a little less tense. whatever needed to be said or argued was over and both marc and his father were now good.

“so i have a few photo albums if-“

“no” marc interrupts and elias just smiles.

“or you can show her your room?” he offers instead, giving you and marc both an opportunity to be alone.

marc just lets out a breath and purses his lips before basically dragging you back up again to hesitantly bringing you up the stairs.

you sort of recognized the entrance to marc’s old room from when you saw his memories, but saw that a few things were different.

like the walls, they were lighter and more vibrant than you remembered, making the whole house just a bit more comfortable.

marc stopped you before turning to the door. “i don’t remember how i left it. and he said that he hasn’t gone in since i left” he starts, referring to his dad. “so just- don’t make fun of me, okay?” you sense a bit of self consciousness in marc’s voice, so you wordlessly nod.

he opens to door and peaks in before letting you come in as well, watching as you wandered in, eyes going immediately to the poster at the wall.

at the top was ‘tomb buster’ in large print, and in the bottom left corner was what looked like a quote.

‘when danger is here, steven grant has no fear’

you looked back at marc, and saw him already looking at you.

“he had to come from somewhere, right?” you ask and you hear steven stifle a laugh.

“you’re having a better reaction than i did” steven starts. “i always thought i was just me, but it turned out that.. marc just made me up” he tells you and you nod with your eyes cast down towards the floor.

“we talked it all out of course, it was just.. a lot” steven finishes and you nod again.

you then started looking around elsewhere, to which to found a small stack of white paper, all with what appeared to be the same drawing.

all goldfish. with one fin.

you could still sense marc’s eyes on you, so you took no surprise when he spoke up.

“my.. my brother drew those” he starts, voice quiet and timid.

you turn to him to pay attention fully. marc just stared at the picture on top, seeing that it looked like the exact one his brother drew the day he passed.

“i would do anything to go back and change it” he sighs and you walk up closer to him.

“i just hope he knows how much i love him” marc directs towards you with downturned brows.

you just smile sadly up at him. “he knows” you start. “i can sense it”

marc takes that as the go ahead to reach forward and pull you into a hug.

you wrap your arms around is waist to hold onto the back of his shirt.

you felt his shoulders shake a few times while one of his hands traveled up to the back of your head to keep you close to him.

you just held marc for as long as he needed, before there was a small knock at the doorframe.

“oh- i’m sorry for interrupting” elias apologizes, while marc let’s go of you to wipe at his eyes.

“that’s alright” he mumbles and you bring your hands to your pockets.

“i don’t know how long you’re both staying, but i can order some food for you both” elias offers and marc nods.

“i can pay you back”

“that’s alright, it’s the least i can do” elias seems delighted by his choice to stay, and you don’t blame him.

“so what are you both in the mood for?”

~~~

you sat next to marc on one side of the dinner table, while elias sat on the other.

before you ate, both marc and elias did a short blessing to which you waited the patient ten seconds before eating.

you didn’t have much, since you didn’t exactly feel too hungry since just hours earlier both you and casper were having a crisis.

“so y/n shared some interesting news with me earlier” elias starts. “about.. you” he looks to marc who’s darting his eyes to you.

“what was it?” marc asks, and you stare down at your plate in silence.

“she may have accidentally told me that you were…. moon knight- but don’t blame her, she didn’t know that i didn’t know” elias defends you, and marc sighs tiredly.

“well she’s arachnid” he mutters childishly, following the sentence by taking a sip of water from his cup.

“oh i’ve heard of her, i saw her get hit by a car- are you okay?” elias directs the question at you and you shrug.

“mentally or physically?” you ask, and marc elbows you in the ribs, making you wheeze.

elias just watches in amusement. he’d honestly think the two of you acted more like siblings than a father and daughter.

he could see the resemblance between you two by the way you acted. you were completely comfortable with each other and it showed.

“wait- who do you like better? arachnid or that lame ass moon knight?” you ask, earning a scoff from marc.

“watch your language” he grits out.

elias just chuckles. “don’t take this too personally, son, but arachnid is cooler” he answers and you start laughing at the betrayal on marcs face.

marc just shoves you, almost falling off your chair before shooting a web out at his arm so you could pull yourself back up.

he rips the webs off of his sleeve to shove them down the back of your shirt, making you gasp and smack him in the arm.

“douche” you mumble, then look to elias who had a wide smile on his face. “sorry” you say, referring to the language.

“it’s perfectly fine”

now even though you had no idea what went down when you were outside, and realistically marc still has some sort of grudge but you sensed something different now.

he was less tense, as if he had gotten closure. and some selfish part of you thought you were a part of why he got said closure.

now, you and marc had left that night after elias confirmed that you were an official spector now.

it warmed your heart, along with marc’s dads.

he was so happy to find out he had a granddaughter, since he never thought marc would have any kids after what happened with his brother.

marc also happened to go back into the house and take those pictures that roro had drawn all those years ago.

he would keep them safe and cherish them forever.

just like he did with you.

marc had felt almost complete now that almost everyone important in his life had all met.

now all that’s left is for him to help you.

but how would he do that?

were you going to possibly make another stop before you go home?

only your dads know the answer to that.

and that’s how it will stay just until the time comes.

~~~

A/N : sorry this took so long i’m just busy so bear with me. also this chapter is very centered around marc, so the next one with have more of steven and jake. love you guys!!!

~~~

taglist ---

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[chippedaxe]

𝑨 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Title: 𝑨 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌

Warning(s): NSFW, not sure what other warnings ?? Pet names used, unedited (as always)

Pronouns : they/them, non specified genitalia (Or at least I tried to keep it vague)

Synopsis: What was a seemingly harmless prank turns out to cause a helluva lot of chaos.

Pairing: c!Sapnap X gn reader (Sub reader btw)

Word count: 2k

Note: simping for Sapnap hours <3 No one requested it but I suddenly got this idea and was like 'I have to write it, it's what the people would want' and I also wrote it bc Sapnap has no full fics in my masterlist yet <3

* lemme know if I've missed any warnings/tags or if you see a mistake in this fic that I can quickly change (I didn't rlly proof read, I just sorta scanned over it with my eyes)

ੈ✩‧₊˚

2nd POV

You walked to the bathroom after a long day. You were held back a few hours to work overtime without warning and you’re pretty sure that you won’t be getting paid extra, you weren’t in the mood and just needed to relax with a nice shower.

You entered your bathroom and closed the door, you assumed by default that Sapnap wouldn’t bother you since he’s normally such a good roommate and he hadn’t bothered you in the bathroom before! You stripped yourself of your clothes and hung up your outfit that you were planning to wear when you get out of the shower.

You placed the clothes on your sink counter and then approached the shower, your feet were placed on the bath mat as you stood there patiently. You took a deep breath before walking in, you turned both faucets and waited for the water to warm up to a good temperature. You got underneath the water and let the shower rinse off all of the dirt and negative emotions.

You could only hear the water hitting the shower floor since most of the water plugged up your ears, you tried to wash it out but failed so you better hope that no roommate of yours comes in here and plays games while you’re basically half deaf. You grabbed the soap and lathered it in your hands, your soapy hands running over your soft skin.

You came to a pause when you thought you heard something but decided to shrug it off “what would it be anyways? It’s not like Sapnap would come in here” you thought to yourself as you continued washing up. Your hand trailed down to your nether regions and you whined a bit as you cleaned down there, you were just cleaning but your body didn’t know that and so you became a bit aroused.

You ignored the arousal and just continued to have your shower, if you were still horny later on than you’d deal with it but not now. You rinsed the soap off your body and sighed, today was a rough and tiring day but you got through it.

You turned the shower off when you were finished getting clean, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your body. You got out onto the bathroom mat and started to dry yourself with the towel, you glanced over towards the bathroom sink and your eyes widened.

“Where the fuck did my clothes go?” You asked out loud, your eyes searching the floor just in case they may have fallen down. You groaned in annoyance and wrapped your towel around yourself securely so it wouldn’t fall and then you stomped out to your bedroom to look for the little thief.

You had a look through your drawers to quickly get dressed and confront the troublemaker but it seemed as all your clothes had mysteriously disappeared. You pulled out all the drawers and you searched all the shelves, even your closet was completely empty apart from some scattered shoes.

You whined angrily and then stomped downstairs, your feet dragging along the floor “Sapnap!” You called out to him and he came to your call “what’s up? Like the new look!” Sapnap looked up and down at your towel covered body “Oh hush up! Where’s my clothes? I know you had something to do with their disappearance!” You accused.

“What? Me? What makes you think that?!” Sapnap gasped “they couldn’t have just grown legs and ran away!” You put your hands on your hips “psh, you got me! It’s just a harmless prank..” Sapnap put his hands up in defeat “Good- great, now give them back please!” You held your hand out expectedly.

“Why? I’m liking this outfit you’ve got on right now..” Sapnap teased “oh please, do not start with the flirting again” you rolled your eyes “I can’t give your clothes back right now but feel free to borrow some of mine!” Sapnap smiled “Huh?? Why can’t you give them back?” You exclaimed “if I told you than it’d ruin the whole prank! Just borrow some of my clothes” Sapnap invited you to his wardrobe.

You pouted and entered his room, roaming his closet and just mindlessly picking some of his clothes. “What am I meant to do about my underwear? Can you at least give that back?” You asked “you don’t need underwear, if you do then just borrow some of mine” Sapnap shrugged it off. You wanted to argue with him but found that he had already turned his back to you and left.

You changed into his clothes, his baggy shirt and pants made your body look more boxed up. You tugged at the fabric and it started to cling to your body more “stupid electricity-“ you tried to get it to move away from your curves but it stayed stuck to you.

You walked out into the living room and crossed your arms “When am I supposed to be ‘getting pranked’?” You sighed “oh fuck, you’re looking hella good in my clothes, maybe I’m doin you a favor” Sapnap licked his lips quickly. You scoffed and flicked his forehead “I look good in my own clothes too, you know??” You huffed “I personally think you’d look way better without any clothes, you looked amazing in that towel earlier” Sapnap wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re disgusting!” You laughed at his little flirting attempts “you know you love it, baby!” Sapnap winked “oh I do” you decided to tease back which made the tip of his ears turn slightly red “oh you do? That really warms my heart, c’mere and show me some love!” Sapnap held his arms out to you but you only pushed him away.

“Your offer is very kind but I must decline, I don’t show love to people who steal my clothes!” You told him. Sapnap lowered his head and frowned “What’re you so upset for? I was gonna get you out of your clothes anyways” he jokes around “oh be quiet!” You slap his arm playfully.

He gasps and exclaims dramatically “OUCH! I can’t believe you’ve striked me! All I did was love you and this is how you repay me??” He falls to the ground slowly and fakes his own death “may I have one final request?” He whispered and You leaned down “maybe one..” you decided to play along “can a dying man please have one final kiss?” Sapnap closed his eyes.

You decided ‘fuck it’ and leaned in, your lips pressing against his. He caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss but you were quick to pull away “hey, I don’t go making out with thieves” you smirked “Oh? Maybe you can make this ol’ criminal a good guy again, what’dya think?” Sapnap wrapped an arm around your waist.

You looked up at him and smiled “oh of course, is this thief gonna return my clothes?” You asked “only if you return mine..” Sapnap whispered and started to slowly tug at your collar “hm.. I think we have a deal” you slipped your shirt off and stood there with a bare chest “you look good, baby” Sapnap blew a kiss at you.

You slipped the rest of your clothes off and kicked them away, you were completely naked now “Shit- I can’t believe you were hiding all this from me..” Sapnap came up to you and ran his hands down your sides “my eyes are up here, play boy” you grinned. Sapnap’s eyes snapped from your body up to meet your gaze.

You leaned in and kissed him again, your mouth parting to allow his tongue entrance. You wrapped your arms around his neck and panted slightly as you two were now having a heated make out session. You pulled away for air and gulped down your spit “Sapnap..” you breathed out “yes, Y/n?” He smirked.

“Take your clothes off, it’s unfair” you complained and started to pull at his clothes “calm down. I’ll take my clothes off whenever you ask, baby” Sapnap stripped himself hastily and then posed for you, your eyes narrowed as you stared at him “checking me out?” Sapnap laughed.

Your eyes couldn’t help but be attracted to the large thing hanging between his legs, his cock was huge and throbbing “oh fuck..” you muttered “what was that?” Sapnap got closer “your cock is humongous!” You shouted “haven’t I told you that before?” Sapnap kissed your neck gently as you two were speaking and taking in each other’s beautiful bodies.

His hands rubbed at your hips gently “I’ve been waiting so long for you, Y/n.. I’ve had this crazy attraction to you ever since we met, you were the only one that ever joked back with me..” Sapnap confessed “I always had a soft spot for your stupid jokes..” you whispered softly, “I KNEW IT!” Sapnap hugged you and started to pepper kisses all over your face excitedly.

“Does this mean we’re dating??” You questioned “no it means we’re mortal enemies, of course we’re dating!!” Sapnap joked around “oh wow..” you blushed softly before realizing that you two were in the middle of having sex “oh um..” your face was red.

“Do you need me to stretch you out, do a little foreplay?” Sapnap’s hands caressed your torso, his mouth leaving soft kisses on your neck which left tiny purple marks “ah.. No, I just need your cock now..” you were ready for him! Sapnap guided you to his bed and laid you down onto your back, he then crawled on top of you and smiled.

Sapnap positioned his huge throbbing cock with your tiny hole, you gasped and threw your head back when he started to slide into your slowly “does this hurt?” Sapnap asked when he saw your facial expressions “n-no! It feels so good..” you cooed.

Sapnap gripped onto your hips and started to thrust inside of you, his cock was overwhelmed by the feeling of your tight warm squishy insides. Your legs were quivering and your hands were covering your mouth, you felt embarrassed to have such loud lewd sounds spewing out of your mouth like this but it was hard to control.

Sapnap thrusted harder and faster which made you yelp, tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure that you were getting from his cock stretching your insides “Fuck! Gonna cum-“ you scratch his back, leaving light claw marks on his skin. Sapnap continued to fuck into you roughly “cum for me, baby..” he encouraged.

You went over the edge and came hard, your juices running down your thighs. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, your back arched and your legs were shaking uncontrollably from the stimulation “FUCK! I love you!-“ you then panted and whined as you tried to catch your breath after just having the best orgasm of your life.

Sapnap came shortly after, his cum leaking out of your hole and down your thighs “shit, sorry about the mess-“ you shut him up with a kiss “clean the mess. Return my clothes. Cuddle me.” You instructed as you tiredly laid down on the bed “will do! I love you too, Y/n” he gave your forehead a kiss before going to clean everything up.

[the-witty-pen-name]

It Happened on Sakaar Pt. 1

Mando x F!Reader; Loki x F!Reader

Rating: M; 18+ Only

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, alcohol, and exotic dancers, grieving, angst, slow burn 

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: The bounty hunter’s most recent puck sends him across the Galaxy to an unfamiliar and artificial planet named Sakaar- literally the galaxy’s trash can. Sakaar is a bizarre planet, but so is his most recent bounty. Din is chasing a man he only knows as The God of Mischief. The reader lives on Sakaar as a scrapper, a similar trade to that of a bounty hunter and has a tangled history with the man Mando is looking for. Will the unlikely duo team up to capture the mischievous Asgardian or will the reader fall victim to Loki’s promises?

A/N: I had planned on writing this in a few days but as per usual I put off coursework to write this fic! So here it is a couple of days early. I am also working on the next chapter of Deadbeat as well as Rest so look out for both of those within the next couple of days! I also am working on an adorable Obi-Wan x Reader request I received a few days ago that will be coming soon as well!

This is unedited and if I missed anything that I should include as a warning please let me know! Thank you y’all! 

Tags and Requests are OPEN

He promised. 

And you were foolish enough to believe him. 

You were foolish to think you were different. 

You were foolish to think you really got to know the real him. 

You were foolish to think that everything he told you was real. 

You were foolish to think that when he told you he loved you he meant it. 

You were foolish to think he’d come back. 

You, a warrior, a fighter, defender of the throne of Asgard, lied helpless on the ground, broken in pieces as you’re told by Odin that Loki was gone. 

And he was dead. 

You mourned him. 

The ache never going away, day after day, that stupid statue just another thing to remind you that he was gone. 

He wasn’t coming back. 

Until he did. 

And you realized how much of a fool you were. 

And you realized everything you thought you knew was a lie. 

So you left. 

 You left with the promise you made to yourself that you would never return to Asgard. 

In your rage, you were blinded when you demanded Skurge open the bifrost and send you to the furthest planet from your homeland. 

 The thought crosses your mind that if it had been Heimdall, he wouldn’t have let you go, talked you into reason and asked you to stay. 

If it had been Heimdall, Thor would’ve caught up to you in time instead of just missing you when you left. 

You didn’t know where you were going and you didn’t care. Your only thought was to put as much distance from yourself and Asgard as possible. You landed in a gross pile of debris when you first arrived, and from there worked your way up to one of the favorites of the Grandmaster- you were dubbed Scrapper 451 and second in most captures to Scrapper 142. Time works odd in space, you’d been there for three years- completely developed a new life under your new alias. 

You’d bring in life form after life form to the Grandmaster, always pleasing him by bringing him potential fighters. 

You worked alone, you preferred it. The only friend you had was Scrapper 142 and that was hardly a friendship- more just a rivalry you both had your fun with. There was a mutual respect, and a feeling about her you couldn’t explain, but that was it. 

When you met Mando, you almost killed him. You had heard a tip from a local shop owner a ship had landed rather roughly, and you made haste to be the first one to investigate, determined to beat 142 if there was a capture worth making. 

Carefully navigating your way through the wasteland, you had finally found the ship in question. It was a model you had never seen before. You stay crouched behind a pile of trash, your stun gun aimed at the ship waiting for it to open. 

You stopped and lowered your weapon when you saw the armored passenger had a very small creature by his side. A baby. 

You hadn’t seen a baby on this planet since you’d landed. Sure, people have children, but you had never seen anyone bring their child to Sakaar. All the children whom you’ve met, had been born there- no one with a child willingly travels to this part of the Galaxy. 

A metal man and a green baby. You scoffed. What an interesting duo. 

You took in the appearance of the armored man. Sakaar had a very basic premise that determined your survival. Are you a fighter or are you food? This one was very clearly a fighter. Not necessarily one that you think could be a gladiator- not the right type. But you could tell by the way he walked out of the ship, he was a force to be reckoned with. The baby was really throwing you off of your game. You could have this man halfway back to the Grandmaster by now if he wasn’t traveling with a kid. Sakaar has not yet made you completely heartless, as much as you tried to be. You decide to compromise your position, in a hope of being able to just talk. Learn why he’s here. 

No one comes to Sakaar. It’s never on purpose. Lost souls are dumped here. Yet, this man seemed like he was the only creature to intentionally travel to Sakaar like he was just passing through. If you couldn’t bring him in, maybe you could at least salvage parts from the ship. 

“What’s your business here?” You ask, from behind the pile where you hid. You could see him but he could not see you. You watch as his first move is to close the floating pram, protecting his child first as he desperately looked around for the source of the voice.

“I’m passing through,” he replies, looking around at his surroundings. 

“Nobody just passes through,” you reply. “No one comes here on their own accord. No one leaves once they arrive. What is your business?”

“I’m looking for someone,” he says nondescriptly, further irritating you. You stand up, slowly, your gun still pointed at the man as you walk closer. 

“Who?”

“Bounty”

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

“No, I came here for vacation.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Who are you here for?” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” 

“I don’t know.”

“What kind of bounty hunter are you?”

“One of the best.”

“Oh really?”

“Don’t test me, Princess.”

“If I’m a princess what are you?” 

“Knight in shining armor?” 

“Are you really hitting on me right now?”

“Only if you’d want me to be.”

“Gods.” 

You can’t see his face from under his helmet but you could feel the smirk he was making. He clearly didn’t view you as a threat and it really annoyed you. Maybe you came off too friendly? No, you’re still pointing a gun to his head. 

“Who are you?” He asked. 

“Scrapper 451,” you said blankly. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Mando.” 

“Mando?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of a name is that?” 

“What kind of a name is Scrapper 451?”

“It’s a title.”

“Not going to tell me your real name?”

“Are you gonna tell me yours?” 

“How-?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“What’s a scrapper do anyways?”

“Bring mouthy tin men in in exchange for a generous amount.”

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

“You could say that?”

“Are you going to turn me in?” 

“That was my plan.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“The baby.” 

“Slave catcher with a heart of gold?”

“I’ll get that on my tombstone.”

“Sooner rather than later I hope.”

“Ouch. Mando, I thought we were friends.”

“You know I didn’t mean it, Princess.”

“Who are you here for?” 

“Someone who calls themselves the God of Mischief.”

You freeze, and you lower your weapon. You’re stunned. You hadn’t heard that title in years, and although you never forgot about it, you were great at pushing it back so far away where you couldn’t access it. The man is able to read your body language and can tell you know the man he’s looking for. 

“He’s not here,” you finally manage to say, your knuckles turning white at how tightly you grip your blaster. 

“He is here,” he says slowly, pulling out a bounty puck. Clear as day, Loki’s face shows up on the holographic screen. Your stomach churns. 

“He’s not here,” you insist. “If he was, I wouldn’t be here. Trust me.”

“So, you know him?” 

“Not at all.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” you take a few steps backwards to walk away. “I wouldn’t stay on this planet long if I were you. Sakaar has a way of just pulling you in.”

“I think I can manage.”

“Get lodging,” you advise with a smile, “the next person who finds you out here won’t be as nice as me.” 

With that you left, leaving the Mandolorian dumb struck. What was this planet? 

Mando knew well enough to take your advice. With the Crest secured, he and the Child made a journey into the city. 

Your words lingered in his mind. He knew you had information about the bounty you were withholding. He needed to run into you again. He reasoned with himself it was for the sake of catching the bounty, but part of him also wanted to see you again. He just wouldn’t admit it. 

He found a place where he could get a room. An elaborate casino, with ornate decorations and loud music playing constantly. A large bar and lounge also attached. He received his room key and ignored the festivities that occurred in the bustling establishment- his first order of business to make sure the Child was settled and would be safe in the room. He regrets his decision to not ask Peli to watch him, but he knew he’d be distracted being so far away. 

He figured he was far enough across the galaxy; he wouldn’t need to worry about those after his own bounty or the child’s. But he realizes that he forgot about needing a sitter. If he absolutely needed to, he could bring the child with him, but that was not ideal. Especially, since gauging your reaction at the mention of his new bounty, this didn’t seem like it would be any easy task. He sat down on the bed in the middle of the room, and pulled out the puck- reading over what little information he had.

He needed to find you again and desperately needed any information you’d be willing to share.

You were worried. There was no way Loki was here. You knew he wouldn’t have come for you, even if you thought about it when you first arrived. You thought if anyone would come after you, it would’ve been Thor, convincing you to return to Asgard and cleaning up another one of his brother’s messes. It hurt when no one from home reached out once in the last three years. However, you decided you were better off because if Thor had convinced you to return home, you’d have to face Loki again, and you were adamant on keeping your word you would not see him again.

 ***

His funeral was devastating. Although many on Asgard did not care much for Loki or his antics, the throne had lost a prince. It was a dark day. Weather on Asgard usually always seemed to be perfect, but on the day of Loki’s services, the God of Thunder was so distraught, he was unintentionally causing a gray and gloomy sky. Thor and you were affected the most.

You stood next to Thor as Odin spoke, but your gaze stayed fixated on the ground. It felt so unfair and you felt an indescribable amount of pain and loss. Your face was stained with tears, as was Thor’s, and you felt like you had just cried until you were physically unable to do so. He was gone and you couldn’t get him back.

Odin watched you solemnly throughout the services. He had told you that he knew how much his son loved you and how despite his absence, you are still considered family. He insisted you had an open invitation to be at the castle whenever you wanted. You could only nod and offer a very, very meek thank you.

You took advantage of that offer, and honestly, you knew you were overstaying your welcome under the palace walls. You found yourself coming, and spending the days in his room, trying to just feel him in anyway you could. You’d run your hands across the broken spines of his books, look at the kingdom from the view of his window, laying on the bed over the elaborate bedding to just try to feel him. You didn’t even know what you were hoping to feel, but you somehow thought this would help you be closer to him.

At events on Asgard, you continued to wear green, almost like your own twist instead of just the traditional black of mourning. It felt right to wear green in his memory, but it was nothing more than just another attempt to pretend like he was there.

You could imagine how he would react to seeing you wearing his signature color. When he was there, he looked at you like you were the only living soul in the room that mattered. He’d shower you were touches of affection and whisper nothing but praises to you, making you think he had actually loved you. This was back before you knew how foolish you had been, blinded by your own puppy love and your affections towards him.

 ***

You now sat in the lavish home of the Grandmaster. He always had hundreds of people in his home, a constant party, a group made up of Sakaar’s elite being entertained by drinking, drugs, or entertainment of sorts from his um… staff. Drink in hand, you sat cross legged on an elaborate circular couch lost in thought while a dancer performed on a table in front of the group you sat amongst. You didn’t even look up- you hated this part of earning the Grandmaster’s favor. You hated these parties with your whole being. They were hedonistic and you would avoid them if you had the choice. However, you knew the Grandmaster would take offense if you were not in attendance.

Music was loud, and there were many flashing lights. You couldn’t rely on any of your senses to navigate in a place like this, but that was intentional. The Grandmaster set this up on purpose. His parties were meant to be a completely immersive experience. It was probably great for those who wanted to be there, but for you, you wanted to escape and slip out as early as you could.

You weren’t interested in the company and you weren’t interested in the weird substances you didn’t recognize being passed around. You didn’t want to relax, and honestly, these attempts to relax always seemed to make you feel worse. Being sober at these events was invitation for horrible eye strain and a hefty headache.

“451! 451!” you heard a familiar voice call over the loud music in a sing song voice. It was the Grandmaster. He would be the only person at this party who would actually be looking for you.

“Grandmaster,” you smile, getting up and walking over to him. You kiss both his cheeks quickly as a greeting. “You look radiant,” you smile, the compliment going right to his head as they usually did.

“451! Look at you, let me see the ensemble,” he would say, talking a step back, and you would twirl once. It was a long golden dress that draped your body, with a plunging neckline. It was paired with golden arm bands and an elaborate gold necklace. You also had gold flakes throughout your hair. “Stunning,” he praised, “I wish 142 would be more involved like you 451- she’s the best, but ugh, she doesn’t know when to relax. Anyways, I called you over to meet a new friend of mine.”

“Are you replacing me, Grandmaster?” You say with a tone of mocked offense and it makes him laugh.

“451, there is no replacing you- you are the three B’s,” he chuckled, lightly guiding you over to another area of the party. “beauty, brawn and brains, a very rare combination indeed.”

“You flatter me, Grandmaster,” you laugh. If you went along with him to keep him happy, the Grandmaster was actually a pleasant creature to interact with. You had the ability to match his banter and he liked that about you.

“Anyways, anyways 451,” he says, as he remembers his train of thought, “I want to introduce you to someone. He’s devilishly handsome and talks like some stuffy aristocrat, he arrived here a couple of weeks ago and I was finally able to convince him to join us.”

“Did he say where he was from?” you ask curiously.

“Get this,” he chuckles, “Ass-guard. What a hoot, am I right? Anyways, there he is. We got to get whatever stick is out of his butt. I’m hoping you’ll help me to uh, loosen him up. Loki! I want you to meet one of my best, 451.”

Based on the look of surprise, you knew he didn’t expect you to be here. He looked like a deer in the headlights and it angered you that he was here. You felt your teeth clench, and you wanted to just get out of here as fast as possible.

“451 is one of the best scrappers I have,” the Grandmaster talks, “Of course, nothing compares to my Champion but she is ruthless. She’s second in the most gladiators she has been able to bring me.”

“Impressive,” Loki smiles, and you feel the urge to just scream. “I’m Loki, prince of Asgard.”

What an asshole.

“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty,” you say between your teeth. You could kill him.

“I’m gonna mingle,” the Grandmaster announces, “I’m leaving you in 451’s hands.”

“Please let me explain,” he immediately tries to say as soon as the Grandmaster is out of earshot. You scoff.

“I’d tell you to drop dead if you hadn’t already,” you spit, “Don’t talk to me. I want nothing to do with you. Get off this planet.”

“Please, just allow me,” he begins.

“Fuck off, Loki,” you snap, and make a fast exit. You leave him standing there bewildered and you watch how stunned he looks as the elevator door closes behind you.

You felt small again. Like all the progress you had made gone in a single instance, and you knew tomorrow you’d face the Grandmaster but for now you didn’t care. You craved a warm bed and sleep more than anything else in the world.

You had planned on staying here so you didn’t know how you were going to make it back to your little apartment. You assumed just walk. You weren’t armed and that was always a terrible idea on Sakaar. You didn’t have anything except a dagger that was fixed to your thigh under the dress you wore. You wished you had your blaster.

“You clean up nice, Princess,” a voice modulated voice you recognize says when the elevator door opens.

“Mando,” you say curtly, stepping out of the elevator.

“You clean up nice,” he states.

“Thank you,” you reply.

“Leaving the party so soon?” He asks. You nod.

“Not really my scene. What are you doing here anyways?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest for a little bit of warmth.

“I received a tip that my target might be here,” he answers, you nod, not elaborating on that you knew for a fact Loki was upstairs. “Did you see him?”

“No, I didn’t.”

PART TWO

Taglist:

@msclifford

[bbhyeoliskooks]

Hi, could you make a scenario when one day txt wake up with cat/dog ears and tails on them? I was thinking of this bc I saw how taejun are called 냥냥즈 (kittenz XD) and the rest are 댕댕즈 (puppiez XD). Thank you so much and also, I love your carrd XD

﹡⊹﹡ 𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐏𝐞𝐭? ﹡⊹﹡

Cat boys and dog boys were certainly the end of you... 

﹤⳾⳾⳾ U・ﻌ・U ..﹡⊹﹡.. ໒・ﻌ・७  ⳾⳾⳾﹥

Genre: 9 3/4 cups of fluff !!

Warnings: Unedited~~

Song: Cat and Dog

(Omg, I'm so sorry that this took so long! As you can expect, this girl who wrote it had a project right here and needed to do it before the due date since she procrastinated??? Yes that, but i'm so sorry that it’s a bit short too :cc However, I hope you enjoy! I wrote this in an hour, so I hope it’s good enough !)

﹤⳾⳾⳾  /ᐠܻܻ   ့⑅ܻᐟ\  ..﹡⊹﹡..（๑´ﻌ｀๑）⳾⳾⳾﹥

"Y/N, Y/N! Wake up, please wake up!"

At eight am in the morning, the side of your cheek was being tickled with something soft...? Something... something... wait, is that supposed to be fur? Yeonjun's velvety voice echoed through the room worriedly as if there was an important event you were missing, and you could say you were tempted to open your eyes until you remembered one, particular thing.

Groaning quietly, you turned to the side while shaking your head in annoyance. If this was another one of his pranks, you swore you were going to punch him in the gut for disrupting your beauty sleep. You shouldn't expect so much from him when you knew he should've been sleeping during this time anyway. Normally you'd gone up to help him, but after everything that happened this week it was safe to say you wanted nothing to do with him- yet. This was one of the only days you could catch up on sleep after stressing about the things you had to do, and you weren't going to lose it to some tiny prank he'll laugh about all day.

For a few moments, you thought he was finally going to leave you alone, the silence being refreshing for you to fall back into the soft arms of comfortable sleep. Well, that was until the boy screamed into your hear again.

"Y/NNN," he whined, tugging your blanket enough to make it scramble off the bed, landing on the floor with a quiet yet noticeable, ploof.

Okay, this was enough.

Throwing the pillow you were holding so dearly in your arm with a harsh grimace quickly permeating throughout your face, you were going to slap him away when you noticed that in your blurry vision... there were grey, furry cat ears on Yeonjun?

It wasn't your usual cat ears on the headband that kids bought whenever they wanted to pretend to be a feline, but those grey cat ears were seemingly attached to his head, almost as if it was sewn into the crown of his head. Stunned, you gasped at the sight, your right hand flying up to cover your dropped mouth.

His eyes were blown wide in pure innocence too, causing you to subconsciously gush at the sight. They both watched your movements intently, sparkling with what you could see mischievousness as well. From before, you knew that they were like this but... they weren't as gigantic and cute from before?!

You weren't able to stop yourself now, rubbing on his ears as he sighed in euphoria. As you expected, the ears were soft and you petted them all the more, feeling satisfied when you felt him seemingly purr due to what you assumed, your touch. He melted into your embrace, nuzzling his cheek against your neck while you giggled with delight.

"Yeonjun, what did you do? Question is, how did you do this all without me knowing?" It was at the very least to say that Yeonjun was simply adorable as his fur tickled the top of your chin, choosing to snuggle up against your chest in blissfulness.

From the corner of your eye, you could see his grey tail lazily spin around in circles while you ran your fingers through his freshly dyed, hair. You weren't sure how he became like this, but you had to admit that you weren't complaining! It was a secret to everyone that you adored cat boys and now that Yeonjun was like this, you could feel your heart swell with joy.

"I didn't do anything," he murmured, closing his eyes when you scratched the back of his ears, "I just woke up like this, next to you." A content smile spread throughout his face and you could feel your own human ears burn from how nonchalant he was about that last sentence. You couldn't recall how you didn't feel him squeeze up next to you last night while you slept soundly, but obviously there were no complaints either.

"Hey, it's alright! We'll figure this out later when all the other boys wake up. Maybe at least one of them would know these things?"

Speaking of the devil, you heard the door slam open with two of the boys running around in circles just to see you. They ceased their steps at the doorway, paralyzed when they both saw Yeonjun in your arms, stopping as if they walked into something they shouldn't have.

The amount of gasps you elicited once you saw them, gently pushing Yeonjun away from you, your steps carrying you towards Beomgyu whose sighed mixed with a low groan. His ears were ones of a golden puppy dog, twitching when you neared closer, pressing up a hand against the top of his head. Oh my goodness, talk about cuteness 1000%?!

Taehyun, on the other hand, was adorned with brown cat ears, revolving around in circles when you stared at him with wide, surprised eyes. He didn't allow you to touch his ears until you shot him a grin- a sign you weren't going to do anything bad to him. Eventually he softened up, turning his head to the side so that you wouldn't see his cherry cheeks while you petted him.

Yeonjun then stomped to the three of you, clinging onto your back with possessiveness. There wasn't anything much that happened other than him waking up with cat ears and a tail to along with that as well, but when you easily got up just to wonder thoughtlessly about their condition, he felt himself burning up from the inside with jealousy. Maybe it was his instincts that came along- like he noticed the first time you petted Beomgyu- but there was no denying he was turning green.

You laughed at the predicament, shaking your head without a care in the world. What really happened last night that you didn't know of? They couldn't have been that bored that they figured out how to appear as hybrids when they woke up.

"You guys... don't tell me that the rest of you are like this too? Because Yeonjun woke up with cat ears, although it can't get that much worse..."

You spoke too soon.

Another pair of puppy dog ears bust through the doorway, budging between the clingy bodies of Taehyun and Beomgyu while panting loudly. Your face turned white at the sight, all the warmness in your forehead disappearing without a trace. Why were you shocked at this point? If the three of them woke up with new body parts, then there would be no surprise if the rest of them did as well.

Your smile could only grow even wider, taking in the endearing pile of boys who zoomed close enough to feel their breath against your nose. Both Kai and Soobin were both playful puppies along with Beomgyu too?! Yes, and with the ears and tails too that stirred in several shapes! You held back a high-pitched scream that could possibly damage their sensitive drums. 

“Soobin...? Kai...? The same thing happened with you too?” 

They just had to be the cutest babies you’d ever seen before, despite them fiddling with their fingers in a nervous fit in fear that you weren’t going to like it.

“No, no, no! I’m the one who should protect Y/N since I was the first one she saw,” Yeonjun whined, pulling you against his chest. You fell against his warm embrace, feeling the corners of your lips turn into a tiny grin that clearly didn’t go unnoticed by the others. 

“Yeonjun, that’s not fair! You didn’t even let us get a chance with her yet!” Soobin pulled you away from Yeonjun and you giggled at the two of them fighting as Taehyun spoke up again.”

“Um first of all, we shouldn’t expect a lot from her? She wouldn’t want to be near any of your musty as-”

“Shut up Taehyun!” They all yelled, and you groaned at how complicated the problem became now.

You ran your hands over your face, the fatigue in your body definitely catching up after staying up to turn in an important document. All of this yelling back and forth about who was going to spend time with you got to your tiredness, and you made a suggestion of which you hoped with all your heart that they would accept. 

“Guys, I know I’m the only one who needs sleep here after staying up into the wee hours of the night, but can we please figure this out when I’m more awake? I need to get some sleep for the time being so that I can understand these things.”

You weren’t surprised when they all cuddled up against you while you tried to doze off for the nth time. 

﹤⳾⳾⳾ U・ﻌ・U ..﹡⊹﹡.. ໒・ﻌ・७  ⳾⳾⳾﹥

“Oh my gosh! They’re adorable, aren’t they?!”

“Who could’ve believed this would happen?

“Awwe, Y/N with fluffy ears? This must be a disease!”

“Beomgyu, hurry up and take some pictures!”

Kai’s voice was the last thing you heard in your sleep then you stirred, taking a look at all the boys who crowded around you. 

What was happening now? It must’ve been two hours since you dozed off, your eyes landing on the clock that read 10:47am. Tiredly, you stretched and the whispers of the boys grew louder with every second that passed. Your arms made contact with something soft and you assumed that was one of the boys ears until you felt something so foreign twitch on the top of your head. It was almost like... almost like- wait a minute!

Now the same exact thing was happening to you. 

---

Posted: 2/27/21- 5:00pm

Tags: 

[ladybugsfanfics]

The Case of the Blue Sweater | Tom Hiddleston

Pairing: Mob!Tom Hiddleston x cop!reader

Style: one shot

WC: 10.7k 

Warnings: crime, alcohol, drinking, implied sexual content (very much so), uhh, theres no blood, also NB: THIS STORY IS INCOMPLETE AND I WONT BE THE ONE TO FINISH IT! (story is also unedited to please dont hate me for any mistakes)

Summary:  Hey so I read your Mob!Tom x reader and it got me thinking.. Could you write a Fic where Tom is in the mob but the reader is a cop? And like they’re secretly dating but technically the reader has to make it look like they’re hunting him down but they really aren’t? (If that makes sense) Idk I feel like I just need this in my life rn 😂😂

A/N: i got this ask back in january i think and i jumped on it right away, but at some point tumblr deleted it so i cant tag who asked (and i know this wasnt anonymous bc i remember but i never put it in the doc annoyingly). anyways, i started writing it, got to 10k words and lost motivation and never finished it. i really like the AU but nothing ever really happened.... im so sorry.  I hope you enjoy what i have ^_^

A loud ringing paired with the loudest on and off buzzing from your phone vibrating on the nightstand is what pulls you out of your slumber. The sounds screech in your ears and you reach over to stop it, to just slide the button over so that your ears can stop bleeding. However, as you lean out of the arms wrapped around you, their grip strengthens and you’re dragged back into the chest of the man sharing your bed. 

“Tom,” you say. A smile plays on your lips, the set of events not unusual for an early morning.

He nuzzles into your hair, places a wet kiss at the base of your neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbles into your skin. 

You shake your head slightly, as much as you can with the limited space. “Can I at least turn the sound off?” 

His grip slackens, making you able to reach the little way over to turn off the blaring alarm. The silence that comes with is welcome in every way, but the relief isn’t long-lasting when Tom drags you back into his chest, his nose quickly nuzzling back to where it was. 

Two seconds is what it takes before he’s pressing kisses to your neck. Rough, slender fingers graze up the side of your body until they reach your neck, where they brush away your hair. With Tom’s easy access, the soft kisses slowly turn into something more, something rougher, and the use of his tongue causes a slight tickle to trail through your body. 

“Tom.” You shift a little where you lay, taking away his access as you turn your head. In the shift, the man easily moves to trail kisses up your jaw, and as you whisper his name again, his lips connect with yours. 

It’s a hungry kiss. He sucks at your bottom lip and his hand grabs your jaw, holding your head in place. You lean into him, kissing him back with equal fervor, however, you’re quickly dragged out of the bliss, when your phone goes off again. 

There is no mistaking the death glare Tom sends the mini-computer. You chuckle slightly and push him off you to reach it. This time, it’s not an alarm, but a phone call. 

Your boss’s call ID lights up the screen, and you give Tom a stern look as you press to accept the call. With the phone to your ear, Tom shrugs and moves under the covers. His hands trail down your body, teasing you as his fingers trace up your inner thighs. 

“Y/L/N,” you say. 

A grunt is heard from the other side first, then, “I need you to come in ASAP.” Your boss’s voice sounds urgent, desperate. 

You check the clock. “I’m not supposed to come in in another hour,” you reply. “Is it that important?” 

“Yeah, wouldn’t have called you otherwise.” It’s like you can hear him nod and roll his eyes at the same time. “We got a lead in the case.”

“What kind of lead? And which case?”

As your boss answers, you can feel Tom’s tongue on the inside of your thigh. In surprise at the feeling you barely manage to suppress the squeal that works up in your throat, and you miss your boss’s reply. (You don’t miss Tom’s smug laugh from under the duvet, nor how he continues to work his way closer to your clit.)

“Y/L/N?” comes from the other end of the line when you gain back… well, really some of your dignity, but mostly your mind. 

“I’m here, sir.” You sigh. “Just something that happened that caught my attention. Cat nearly knocked down something made of glass.” 

(You don’t have a cat, why was that the first excuse you could come up with? Your boss doesn’t know that, though, so it’s safe.)

“Didn’t know you had a cat, but that could happen to the best of us.” Your boss clears his throat. “The lead’s pretty good, but can’t say it over the phone so you gotta come in. It’s on the case about the Blue Sweater.” 

You roll your eyes at the nickname of the case. One of the major criminals you were trying to take down is often seen wearing blue sweaters, and at a briefing you’d offered it as a code name; who knows who listens in on phone calls―they do seem to have a knack for being one step ahead of you, too. 

But you don’t mention that to your boss. “Alright, sir, I’ll be on my way as fast as I can.” 

“Make it less than half an hour and we’re good.” 

“No problem, sir.” 

Your boss is the one to hang up, and as you throw your phone down on the bed, Tom peeks his head up from under the covers. You send him a glare. “You should be happy you didn’t get started whilst I was on the phone.” 

Your boyfriend smirks up at you. “Oh, you wouldn’t have liked that?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t like it.” 

Tom shrugs. “You got time, right?” Though before you can answer he slides back under the cover, uses his hands to steady your hips and dips his head low. God, if only you had more time. 

--

The moment the elevator door opens and you step out into the crowded office space of the police station, you hear your name being called. You wish you weren’t the head detective on the, currently, biggest case pertaining to crime bosses. Just once you wish you could come to work and not have at least five people at a time want to ask you a question or pepper you with information you already have. 

You kind of wish you weren’t the head detective for another reason, too, but that’s a minor detail. Actually, that might be the reason you need to be the head detective; way easier to steer an investigation when you’re leading it. 

Nonetheless, you have no choice in which cases you lead or not. And that’s usually the reason why there’s three people cluttering your desk as you sit down. You’re not entirely sure that’s the reason today. 

You plop down in your chair and stare up at the talking men in front of you. The three of them notice you quickly (after all, it was them that yelled your name) and the chatter dies out. 

“I’m here half an hour early and I would love to know what made me skip my morning shower.” (It would have been morning shower sex, and you are a little very annoyed that you had to skip it.)

Your boss coughs, gaining your attention. “Briefing room. Five minutes.” The man looks slightly uncomfortable, but that’s not a big surprise. You’ve been told many times that you have that kind of face that makes people squirm; just something about you is, apparently, intimidating. 

“Okay.” 

And he walks away. 

“You two doing at my desk then?” you ask your coworkers. The two men are your right and left hand in most cases, but this one especially. You wouldn’t even be half the way you are now if you didn’t have them. (Though how much that says, you’re not sure, because you really have nothing.)

“Well…,” starts Mackie. His hand goes up to scratch his neck. “...really we just naturally gravitate here.”

You squint at him, and divert your gaze to Evans (who you know is a shitty liar). Even though you’re not opening your mouth to say anything and he isn’t looking at you, you can see the big man trying to make himself smaller. 

“We were gonna try and see if you’d left a hint to who you’re sleeping with,” he says, and despite the way he doesn’t meet your gaze, he says it so casually you’re actually taken aback. 

“Excuse me?” You let out a huff, and shake your head. “My sex life is my sex life. You two” ―you point at both of them― “have no business with it.” You stand up from your chair and shake your head yet again. “And if you really think I’d leave evidence lying around, I gotta figure out how to let you know that’s not something I’d do.” 

(And if you had, well, your career would for sure be over. If not worse.)

But with that out of the way, you make your way to the briefing room. Captain Cheadle, your boss, stands at the head of the table. In his hand, he holds a wireless presenter, and a few papers are scattered on the table in front of him. You take your place at the table, and as you do, your phone buzzes to signal a new message. 

The captain gives you a shrug and that’s all the permission you need to fish your phone from your pocket and check the text. 

[08.38] twh darling, you left something at your flat

[08.38] you you talking about yourself? that doesnt count

[08.39] twh that too but no, you left your keys

[08.39] you you doing anything today?? 

[08.39] twh you know i am, but i can get them to you

[08.40] you gtg but yes please or there are other solutions…

You let out a slight groan knowing you’ll have to figure out how to get your keys without actually meeting Tom. You can’t meet in public, and there are few places where you can meet without being discovered; there’s a reason you’re always at your apartment and never at his house. (well, you’ve been there once, but that was with work and it doesn’t count.)

Whatever his reply is to the latest text you sent, you don’t get to read (though you do feel the vibration on your thigh). Captain Cheadle has called for your attention, Mackie and Evans having seated themselves in the room as well, and you can’t do anything but pay attention to your boss. 

“The tip we got is an inside tip.” The captain steps aside to let the projector show a photo of the biggest crime boss currently in New York City, Tom Hiddleston. As with every other photo he’s in, he’s wearing a fucking blue sweater. “The source is reliable, as we know of their work with Hiddleston, but we’re not sure if the tip is.” 

He clicks to another photo, which is of the same man getting into a car. Only, he’s getting into the driver’s seat, something that is unusual for someone that has his own driver. “We can’t know if the tip is true or not, but we’re guessing there’s some truth to it.”

You roll your eyes slightly (not enough for the captain to notice). “Can you tell us what it is yet?”

Captain Cheadle nods. “There’s been a mystery woman in his life. None of his men know, but based on a lift in spirits and an increase in nights gone from his own house, they believe he has to be seeing someone. Rumor amidst his men, according to our tip, is that it's been going on for a few months.”

A knot tightens in your gut. A few months is a little less than correct, but yeah… It’s been six months since you started dating Tom Hiddleston. Off work, on a weekend, you met him in a bar, you got drunk and your mind didn’t work in any other way than tell you how hot he was and how good he made you feel. There was little persuasion needed for Tom to get you in a bed, naked, and screaming out his name. And so far, he’s managed to do it most nights since. 

(The case had been assigned to you a month after your first encounter. You’d known his name well before you met him, but that hadn’t stopped you. And, even as his girlfriend, you had no evidence on him whatsoever.)

Yet, after six months of no one knowing anything, you’d been fairly certain you’d get away with it. At least until either one of you got enough of pretending. Tom has enough money for you to quit your job should it come to it, the only problem being that you don’t want to because you love your job. 

“Did your source say anything about who the woman could be? Where to find her?” asks Evans. 

You wait patiently for the reply. Your gut stirs with the thought that they’d know, that just your face (usually a poker-face no one could read no matter how much you panicked on the inside) would reveal you. But you aren’t revealing anything but being deep in thought, as you can feel Mackie’s eyes on you as your own flicker across the room and a frown has pronounced itself on your face. 

“The tip was slight, but the source believes that there might be something to check at a bar. It’s one Hiddleston frequents, High Rise.”

Oh, if only the name didn’t chime with recognition at the back of your mind. There isn’t much to do but accept your fate and follow up on the lead, only try your best to avoid being recognized as the girl who left with Tom Hiddleston half a year ago. That could be rather easy, seeing as the bar was dark and you’d been wearing more make-up than usual and the dress you wore hadn’t stood out in any way, and it being six months ago.

You nod at captain Cheadle. “Anything else we should know?” 

He nods slightly. “There came one more thing with the tip, but this wasn’t a written message.” He roams around his papers for something and eventually fishes out an evidence bag. Inside is an envelope and something small you can’t see from far away. He slides it across the table to you. 

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of what lies in the bag. The envelope easily recognizable as one you’d written yourself (though you’d used a typewriter―fancy―so there isn’t any handwriting to check), and the content a barely visible silver and gold wristband inscribed with a phrase Tom has whispered time and time again in your ear (the most intimate you’ve been outside of sex); my safe spot is with you in my arms. 

Your fingers graze over it as you look at the inscription. “That’s pretty intimate,” you say, and an agreed murmur comes from your captain. 

“You traced it?” asks Mackie. 

“Untraceable. Paid in cash, no receipt, and might even have been done illegally.” 

At least you know that that’s not true, and if they’d tried just a little bit harder, it wouldn’t be that hard. 

“Fingerprints?” you ask, though not sure exactly where it comes from. (Or, well, it comes from the fact that you’ve touched the wristband on several occasions and that, unless wiped, there should be fingerprints all over it.)

You look up from the evidence bag to see captain Cheadle shake his head. “A few around the clasp, but none enough to make a full print, and any other we could find are only Hiddleston’s. The envelope’s the same”

“The question is whether Hiddleston sent it to someone or if someone sent it to him.” Evans motions for you to slide the evidence over to him, and you do. 

“He’s the biggest crime lord in New York, he’s gotta be real smitten if he’d make that to send to someone.” Mackie shrugs, not sold on the idea that Tom Hiddleston, crime boss extreme, could be sappy enough to send it apparently. 

Well, if only you knew what Tom would do for the one he loves, if only you knew.

“Well,” you say and clap your hands together, “seems we have more to do today than reports.” 

A slight chuckle comes from the three men in the room with you. 

“I want you, Mackie, with me on a trip down to High Rise. Captain, is it possible to talk to our source other than written communication?” 

A nod. 

“Then I want you, Evans, to have a little chat with Hiddleston’s ex-buddy. Let’s see if he doesn’t have more information, and if you can’t get much, try a little harder on the wristband. There’s gotta be something to look for there, maybe mention it to our source?”

“On it.” Evans gives you a thumbs up, grabs the evidence and walks out the door. You and Mackie move to do the same, and on your way there, you fish your phone out from your pocket. 

[08.41] twh i’ll have to get back to you on that, but you can probably count me in have a good day, darling

[09.27] you sounds great but, on some not so good news, you got a snitch amidst you and i have smth that belongs to you in evidence

You don’t wait for a reply, certain he’s busy and also because Mackie is a nosy asshole and you’re not gonna get caught on a text message. 

“You know where High Rise is?” asks Mackie as you make your way to your desk. 

“GPS exists, but I have a hunch,” you say as you grab your jacket. Unfortunately, that hunch is more a hunch that your relationship is getting threatened by your work. 

(“A hunch. Yeah, right, you’ve probably been there.”

“Careful what you say there, kiddo.”

“I’m older than you!”

“And yet, I’m driving.”)

--

[09.53] twh name? and what might that be?

[11.16] you i didnt get one but one of my guys is questioning him smth i bought you

[11.17] twh ill figure it out, and that has to be my wristband. how? 

[11.17] you you tell me

Mackie nudges your arm with his elbow as you make it inside the bar. It’s mostly deserted, highly unlike the life that was there the last time you set foot in the place. A man sits in the booth in the back sipping what looks like whiskey based on the glass and the brown liquid inside. By the entrance, a woman and a man sit across each other at a table. Each of them have a beer, though only the man looks to have touched his, and the woman doesn’t look too happy with him. 

However, you turn your attention to the bar, and the bartender behind the counter. Fortunately, he’s not the same one that was here when you were. Making your way over, you note the exits (the one you came in through, a backdoor in the kitchen, and―one you noted the first time you were there―the window in the ladies’ room). You also note the man sitting at the edge of the bar counter, back hunched over and an old fashioned placed in front of him. Untouched. 

“How can I help you?” asks the man behind the counter. A bushy beard covers his chin, ruffled brown hair the top of his head, and tattoos cover his upper arm, visible where his t-shirt sleeve ends. In his hands he holds a cleaning towel and a glass, but as you sit down, he slings the towel over his shoulder and puts the glass down. “Guessing beer for you, sir, and maybe a scotch on the rocks for the lady?”

You shake your head, and roll your eyes at Mackie’s almost nod. You’re at work, you’re not gonna drink. “Sorry, mister, but we’re here on other business.” You pull out your badge and give him a peek. 

The bartender’s eyes go wide. “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t know. You could've fooled me.” He holds out a hand. “I’m Tom Hardy, co-owner of this shithole.”

“Shithole?” Mackie eyes the man. 

“Can’t say there’s a lot of good going on in here, really. Nothin’ illegal, though.” Hardy winks at Mackie and you roll your eyes. The last thing you care about is the tiny illegal things going on at the bar. “What can I help you with? There’s not been any complaints, right?”

Mackie shakes his head. “Relax, man, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re looking for information on a man, also named Tom, but with a different last name. Hiddleston, heard of him?”

The scoff Tom Hardy comes with is barely audible, but you catch it and cock your head to the side. 

“Who hasn’t heard of Tom Hiddleston? Supposedly a big mafia boss, but the police has got nothing on him.” 

“We got word he frequents this bar. That true?”

Hardy nods. “He’s by at least once a week, sometimes more.” 

You try to drown the ache that falls over your heart knowing he still comes by. “You know what he’s here for?” 

The bartender shrugs. “Don’t get into that shit, but I know he has a deal with my co-owner, Luke Evans.” 

Mackie pulls out a pad and a pen and writes down the name. “Hiddleston ever leave here with a girl in the last few months?” 

Hardy shakes his head. “Nah, leaves with the same men, though he has gotten different. Before he used to indulge a little more with the women, but now he seems to not want to. They want him, though.” 

The ache fades a little at that. He’s loyal, he’s trustworthy, he’s yours. “Did he use to leave with girls before?” you ask. 

“Dunno. He’s usually here when Luke works, only some shifts we got together.” Hardy shrugs. “Though the times I have been here, he’s never left with a girl. He’s followed some into the bathroom, but never left with one. Gotta be some special girl for him to leave with her.” 

You suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. “Thank you, mister Hardy. Could you get us in touch with your co-owner? We wanna have a little chat with him, too.” 

“He works tonight. Sorry, can’t give you anymore.” The man picks up a glass again. “But if we’re done here, you’re gonna have me excused. I have a job to do.”

“Thanks for the cooperation,” says Mackie and pushes away from the counter. “We might come back for more.” 

You say a small goodbye as you follow after your coworker. On the way to the door, your eyes stray to the man in the back of the bar. Something about him seems off, and even more so when he holds up his glass and tips it your way with a slight hint of a ‘cheers’. The creepy smirk that places itself on his face sparks no comfort, and you let out a sigh as you walk through the door Mackie holds open for you. 

“Something wrong?” he asks. 

“Got a weird feeling from one of the dudes in the bar. Might be nothing, might be something.” You shake your head, slowly, as your thoughts whirr around in your head. “Doesn’t matter. If he’s here tonight, I might check into it, but it’s probably nothing.” 

Mackie shrugs. “We didn’t really get that much here either, though. Hope Evans got better luck.” 

“Yeah, gotta hope. But I have a feeling our source might’ve changed his mind on talking.” You open the car door and get in, Mackie following your lead. “I have a feeling Evans might not have been very lucky.”

“You thinkin’ we might end up with… homicide?”

You shrug. “Can’t be sure, but wouldn’t be surprising. Don’t believe we’re gonna be able to connect it to Hiddelston, though.” You start the engine and pull out on the road. “Don’t believe we’re gonna have any connection other than the guy’s snitching.”

“Good enough to talk to him.”

“Good enough to blow what we have if we do.”

--

The police station became a place of chaos in a matter of seconds. One moment, you’re talking to Evans on what he could find (the source had disappeared without a trace), and the next, it’s like the station is on fire. 

Evans, Mackie and yourself are out of the loop. You lean against your desk, your coworkers leaning against the neighboring ones, and look at the chaos erupted around you. People run from one place to another, screaming for help or otherwise. 

Then silence consumes the crowd as someone turns up the sound of the TV in the background. You turn to see the screen. On it, there’s a picture of a fire and countless dead bodies, burnt crisps until there is nothing recognizable left to see. 

“In just a few minutes the house, that belongs to the infamous crime boss Tom Hiddleston, went up in flames. Whether the man himself was in the house or not, we do not know. Police have yet to arrive at the scene, and the firemen are doing their best to put out the blazing fire. So far, we have no witnesses and no way of knowing what caused it. We’ll be back soon with more updates.”

You lock eyes with Evans and Mackie. 

“Our source was in that fire, wasn’t he?” Mackie makes a grimace, and then shakes his head and throws his hands up in the air. “You called it. You fucking called it.”

“I didn’t want to call it.” You shake your head. “And we’re not the force to go out there either, so we’re gonna need someone to talk to Hiddleston about this, about his source, without it being suspicious.”

Evans gets up from his place. “I’ll ask Sebastian.”

“That buddy of yours?” you ask. 

“This is the kind of case he gets called out on.” 

“Go ahe―”

“Y/L/N!” You’re cut off by the sound of your captain yelling your name. “You’re going out with the team. Take one of the boys. Don’t alert Hiddleston, but he’ll know why you’re there.”

“You got it, sir.” You turn to Mackie and Evans. “Looks like we got some luck after all. Which one of you wanna join me?”

--

When you pull up to the scene, the fire has been put out. But the fire that is the press and the countless people that’ve decided this is something they need to see live, that has yet to be handled. 

You and Evans walk up to the police barricade tape and shove it aside. An office tries to stop you, but you easily walk past after a flash of your badge. The head officer on the case is easily recognizable where he commands what looks like some junior officers. 

“What’s the deal?” you ask. 

He turns to you, and there you find Evans’s and Mackie’s friend, Sebastian Stan. He smiles at the two of you. “Got five casualties, one critically hurt on his way to the hospital. Medics think his fate’s been sealed. Other than that the fire’s been put out, and the owner of the house arrived about five minutes ago.” Sebastian points to a male figure pacing up and down the sidewalk. “Don’t know if I’d wanna talk to him though.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “We haven’t got much choice.” You’re about to walk from the officer, but you have one last question. “You got any identities on who died?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, and so far it seems the fire was an accident. No fuel used of any kind, nothing weird about the source, and the six that were in the house weren’t close to it. Three of them were asleep.”

“Didn’t the house have a smoke alarm?” asks Evans. 

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nope. And you’re not gonna believe what they, as of now, believe to be the source.”

“What?”

“A hair dryer. Wasn’t turned off.” 

You frown. “A hair dryer? Nothing else? It’s a pretty big house. Seems like a long shot.”

Sebastian shrugs. “So far we’ve ruled out arson, and seeing how annoyed the owner is over there, safe to say he wasn’t planning on burning his house down.”

Don’t say that. He wouldn’t care, seeing as that isn’t the house he uses mostly―that’s just the public one. 

Even Evans knows that, and you give him a look as you move away from Sebastian and towards said owner of the house. 

“Hiddleston,” you say as you near him. 

The man turns around. His expression is curious rather than angry, but something tugs at his lips as his gaze flickers over to Evans. “Miss Y/L/N, what do I owe the lovely pleasure?” 

“Your house burned down. Five of your men dead, and a sixth one just holding on. We’re thinking he’ll die, too, medics said it was critical.” You shrug. “But you already knew that, right?”

Tom smiles, and takes a step closer to you. You have to hold out a hand to stop Evans from coming in between, knowing you have somewhat of a bodyguard in the man. “Darling.” Tom’s hand comes up to cup your cheek and you have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. “How could I know that? No one wants to tell me a bloody thing.” His voice changes fast at the last sentence, the annoyance creeping in. 

“Did you set the fire?” asks Evans. 

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t mean to ask that. But we would like to know if there are any of your acquaintances missing?” 

Tom nods. “There’s one I wanted to talk to. Name’s Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Haven’t been able to contact him since last night, and that’s unusual.”

“You think he was in the fire?” 

The male shakes his head. “I don’t believe he was there at all, but I do believe he would do this. I got the impression he isn’t quite happy with me, or my decisions lately.”

He’s the snitch. 

“We’ll let you know if he was in the fire.” You use your hand to push Tom’s hand away from your face, his touch lingering a little too long to be a play (but you weren’t going to complain.) “I have one other inquiry.”

“Go on.” 

You take a deep breath before the words leave your mouth. He should be prepared, considering you told him what was in the evidence bag, but you can’t be sure. “Any girlfriends or women in your life we should know about?” 

He smiles (god, that smile). “Other than you, love?” 

Smooth. You can practically hear Evans roll his eyes behind you. 

“Yes, other than me.”

“Then no. I have a far too busy life to deal with girlfriends,” he says, and winks, “though you shouldn’t hesitate to contact me.” Tom leans in close, his lips grazing your ear and his hand taking yours―something cold grazes your fingers. “I can give you a night you won’t forget.” 

You don’t let the hitch in your breath show, and when he places a kiss to your cheek, you only stare at him as he pulls away (and let your hand find comfort in your jacket pocket where you let go of your keys).. “Don’t leave town, Mister Hiddleston.” 

“I won’t, darling.” 

And then you walk away together with Evans. He keeps glancing behind him, and the confusion is written on his face. 

“Just ask,” you say as you reach the car. 

Evans opens the door. “How are you not fazed by that?” he asks. 

You get into the car and shrug. “Because I don’t let it. He thinks it’s fun to play with me because I don’t have a reaction―” (ehehe, yeah right) “―I think it’s fun to let him. Eventually, something has to slip and we’ll be able to catch him on the spot.”

“But you gotta allow yourself to be harassed to do so?” 

You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call it harassment, hon. I call it work.”

Evans frowns as you start the engine and pull out of the parking spot. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed? When it comes to sexual harassment, Tom Hiddleston is the least of my worries.”

--

It’s supposed to be a brief stop; get into your apartment, change into something that doesn’t drag attention at a bar on a Thursday night (probably not going to be too crowded anyways), and get out. 

But when you walk in through the door, you see a pair of shoes kicked off in the entrance hall. A coat lies draped over your living-room armchair―a coat easily recognizable. 

You hurry to close the door, and kick off your own shoes. The trail of clothes leads you further into the apartment. A dress shirt folded together and placed on the cupboard in your living room. Pants lie discarded on the floor in the doorway to your bedroom. And the man who it belongs to, you find tangled in your sheets, buck naked with the exception of the tie around his neck. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, an amused smile plastered on your face as you shake your head. 

Tom lifts his head a little. A smirk colors his face and he shrugs. “Thought I could surprise you a little, before I have to get going.” He checks the wristwatch on his arm (which you first now noticed he hasn’t taken off either). “But you’ve used quite a lot of time to get here, and now we barely have time for anything.”

You shake your head, smile gone. “Sorry, babe, but I haven’t got the time.”

“What? You have plans for the evening?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but it still slightly hurts seeing as you barely get out of the apartment when you get time off. Really, six months ago was a chance meeting unlike any other.

“I have work.” You move to open your wardrobe. “But if you want, you can help me figure out what to wear.” You turn your head to cast Tom a glance, eyebrow raised. 

He turns a little, enough for the sheet that had covered him to fall off and leave him fully exposed. And with just the tie as a piece of clothing, you have to turn back around. God, what that man can do. You grit your teeth as you open the door and file through the few dresses you own, patiently waiting for his response. 

“What is it for?” he asks, and his velvet smooth voice does nothing to ease the growing arousal in your gut, not with the image of him and that tie the only thing on your mind. 

You swallow before you reply, but you don’t dare turn around. “Gotta talk to the owner of a bar, and don’t wanna drag attention with people there so we agreed to act less like police. Might have to have a drink or two.” You sigh, and close your eyes. “You should have waited with this until then.”

“What?” His voice is in your ear, warm breath fanning your neck. You bite down on your lower lip, hard. “You don’t like it? You’re not enjoying it?” His hands find the hem of your shirt. Fingers graze up along your skin and you find yourself complying when he makes a move to drag it off. 

“Tom,” you whisper. You lean into him, into the fingers tracing along your bra and the way his lips ghost over the skin on your shoulder, up your neck. “I don’t―” You shudder as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Ba― Babe, I don’t have―”

He tips your head back and his lips find yours. Barely touching, you close your eyes, and the image of Tom in bed and you using the tie to drag him to you has you swallow, almost succumbing to the pleasure you know you’ll get. His voice is low when he speaks. “Don’t have what?” 

You don’t answer as your hand shoots up to press his head closer to yours, to push your lips together. Everything you can think about is him, your boyfriend, and in a matter of seconds your clothes are off as well, and you sink into the mattress as Tom throws you down on your bed. Your eyes open briefly, to see him study the contours of your body and, even as you do give into Tom and your desire, the haste is still on your mind. 

With determination etched into you, you drag him to you with the tie and capture his lips in yours. There is no limit to what this man does to you, and there is no limit to what you let him. 

--

With the already extra time you used with Tom, you didn’t have the time to shower. You’d tried your best to fix your hair and do something extra with your make-up, but Tom didn’t have it in him to let you dress and time was wasted. 

Evans and Mackie pick you up outside your apartment complex in Evans’s car. As you approach, the two of them lean against it, deep in conversation. They barely notice you coming, but when they do, both give appreciative looks. 

“Looking good,” says Mackie, eyes travelling up and down your body. Evans remains quiet, the way his eyes dance over you the only comment you get (and you have to admit, you’re not really complaining.) 

You’d opted for something nice, but nothing too much. A skirt that stops mid-thigh, knee high boots with a thick heel, and a slightly revealing shirt. (You’d also opted for a thigh holster so that you could still bring your gun. 

“You’re wearing that.” It’s more a statement than a question from the naked man resting on your bed. 

You nod, and glance his way. “Problem?”

Tom’s eyes graze over you, hunger evident in them. “I would certainly like to take it off.” 

You lift the hem of your skirt, revealing the thigh holster with your gun. “This too?”

“Yes, and right now.”)

In your hand, you have a clutch and you’re also wearing a coat to keep some warmth in the cool evening air. “Shall we go?” you ask. 

And the two men both get off from where they’re leaning against the car. Mackie easily offers up the passenger’s seat to you, even though whenever it's him and Evans fighting over it, it’s first come first serve. You smile a thanks and then you’re on your way. 

Evans parks a few blocks away from the bar (his expensive Audi with tinted windows certainly drags some attention), and you use the walk there to go through the course of action. 

“Mackie’s the cop-cop. He’ll talk to Luke Evans, try something else. We try to talk to some of the people there. Whether that’s as a cop or not, I don’t really care. All we really need is a lead. If anyone sees any of Hiddleston’s associates, please alert the others.” 

The two nod. “Sure, but before we go in there, you have to fix your hair.” 

You raise your brow at Mackie. “Excuse me?”

“You got sex hair.” He gives you a ‘sorry’ smile and a shrug. “Like, we’re not judging you for having it, but if you’d told us you had a visitor we would’ve waited to come to give you more time.”

“Fuck.” You shake your head and stop. “One, help me fix my hair. Two, I wasn’t planning on it. I was ambushed.” Something that isn’t really that far fetched, it’s not like you knew Tom would be there when you came home.

Evans stops in front of you and asks with his face if he can help, and you nod. His hands move to brush a little through your hair, and fix a little on what probably stands out. 

“How could you get ambushed?” asks Mackie. 

You roll your eyes. “I got home, there were some clothes lying around, I followed the trail to a naked man in my bed and seeing as it’s the guy I’m currently seeing it wasn’t a bad sight. I tried to tell him I didn’t have the time, but he can be quite persuasive.”

As you talk, Evans tugs a little harshly on your hair and you let out a pained sound. He apologizes, but continues to try and fix your hair. 

Mackie shrugs. “How long have you been seeing him?”

You shrug. “Few months.” 

“How many months are a few?” asks Evans, his hands letting go of your hair and an approving smile on his face. He steps away to get Mackie’s blessing and the man nods affirmative. 

“Uhh, six.” 

Both Mackie and Evans stare wide-eyed at you. 

“You’ve been dating a dude for six months and not told anyone?!” If you didn’t know better (and you’re not always sure you do), you’d think there was a layer of accusation in Mackie’s voice, but you don’t believe there is. 

You shrug and begin to walk again. “What does it matter? It’s not like there’s a need to know about those things.”

“I thought we were friends.” Mackie shakes his head, a small friendly glare sent your way. 

“What made you think that?” you ask, but the same friendly feel to your words as there was to his glare. “But can we let it go? I don’t want to talk about my private life.”

Evans nods. “We’re here anyways.”

And you sure are. You look up to see the blinking neon sign of the bar. The bass from the music drifts to where you stand by the door, and with a quick glance inside, you can see it’s fuller than you expected for there to be another work day of the week left. Though you do notice the age of the people; it's possible the college kids don't have class tomorrow, or don’t care. 

The three of you make your way inside, gaining a few glances as you step in, but everyone quickly turns back to their own lives. You give a small sign to the two men you came with and move away from them. 

It’s easy to step up to the bar, and you easily recognize the bartender as the one who was there when you met Tom. You’re guessing he’s Luke Evans, and you take a breath before you signal him for a drink. Hopefully, you won’t be recognized. 

“What can I get you?” he asks. 

“A whiskey, thanks.” 

He pushes away from the counter, and easily grabs a glass and a bottle and pours. When he puts it down in front of you, his gaze lingers. “Have I seen you before?” 

You shake your head. “Has to be somewhere else than here in that case.” 

“First time?” 

You nod. 

“Recommend not drinking a lot. We get some sleazy people in here.”

“I hear you also get crime bosses. This the place to meet the Tom Hiddleston?”

Luke chuckles. “Hon, if you want to meet Tom Hiddleston, I suggest you start being careful what you wish.” He nods to the back of the bar. “Best luck is sitting down in that reserved booth. It’s his usual.”

You cock your head. “He’s coming here today?”

The bartender nods. 

“Ain’t I lucky,” you whisper and smile at him. You easily get away from the counter and make your way to the empty booth in the back. 

Sure enough, a sign reading reserved is placed on the table. Who it’s reserved for doesn’t say, nor is there a time stamp. You make for sliding into it, but a hand grasps your wrist and pulls you away. 

As you fall into the chest of the stranger, you turn your head. The man who you’d seen earlier today is the one holding you back. Up close, you notice bags under his eyes and he reeks of alcohol. You pull away from his grip and raise a brow his way. 

“I wouldn’t sit down there if I were you,” he says, and slides into the same booth he had earlier. 

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “Tom Hiddleston isn’t a man to mess with.”

“And how do you know so much about Tom Hiddleston?”

The man pats the seat next to him. “Sit and I’ll tell you.”

You hesitate, but eventually slide in. You leave room between yourself and the stranger. If anything were to happen, you do have a gun.

“You got any relation to Hiddleston?” you ask (you have to admit, no matter how much you want your boyfriend not to be caught, you wish you knew more about what he did do). 

“Name’s Aaron.” The snitch. 

You motion for him to go on.

“I was hired by him three months ago. He felt the cops were gaining and wanted something, or someone to try and put a stopper to it.” 

“So, Tom Hiddleston hired you to snitch on the cops?” You want to laugh, seeing as you snitch enough for Tom to never know exactly what you know, but enough to cover his tracks. 

Aaron shakes his head. “He hired me to snitch on a cop. A specific one.” 

You frown, sure if he was hired to snitch on you you’d know and he would have recognized you. Perhaps he had. 

“The cop’s here today.” Aaron’s gaze travels into the crowd of people in the bar. You see where he looks. Evans. “His name is Chris Evans.” 

“Why did he want you to spy on him?” 

Aaron shrugs. “He never said. And eventually, I got sick of it. The guy’s obviously not a threat to Hiddleston and his business. Y/N Y/L/N is, but it’s impossible to find out anything about her. Don’t even know what she looks like.”

You try not to let it show that you flinched at the mention of your own name. And you find it weird that he can’t find anything on you. Tom did so, easily. But there’s no need to dwell on that. You glance at Aaron again, unsure how to ask. 

“You say you got sick of it. What did you do? Just stop doing his bidding, or something else?”

A smile colors Aaron’s face. “Snitched to the cops. Left a message. Anonymous, but I gave them a way to contact me for more information.” He shakes his head. “Got contacted today, but never replied. But I saw you here this morning, talking to the bartender.”

You cock your head. That could be an easy way to draw the connection to you as a cop, not necessarily as Y/N Y/L/N, but you had been seen with Mackie, and usually Mackie and Evans were seen with each other. 

“I have a proposition for you,” he says. “One that means getting close to Hiddleston, and that includes spying on him. Mics, cameras, whatever. I need him in jail.”

“I’m gonna have to say no. I was just hoping for a night, a friend of mine told me he was real good in bed.” You shrug. “But if you have angered him, I got told by the bartender that Hiddleston comes in today.”

Aaron smiles. “You’ll have to excuse me, then. I hope you don’t anger him with only the intention of a one night stand. Based on how you look, I’m pretty sure you’re his type.” The male slides out of the booth, downs his drink in one go, and waves goodbye. You watch as he moves to the restrooms, and you roll your eyes when he winks. 

[10.47] you snitch is alive, in the restrooms hiddlestons supposed to come in today

[10.48] evans no snitch in the restrooms, window’s open tho guessing it was the guy that slipped past me just now

[10.48] you guess so mackie u got anything from the bartender

[10.50] mackie that hiddlestons coming in that their deal is just renting of the venue from time to time

[10.50] you well just have to do the best of it then im sitting in his booth so if he comes hell notice

[10.51] evans sure thats a good idea??

[10.51] you would very much like to know why he put someone to spy on you evans snitch was hired to keep tabs, got annoyed he wasnt keeping tabs on me

[10.51] mackie dam i wanna know that too be careful

You look up and meet the gazes of your coworkers. Evans looks uncomfortable, worried almost, judging by the crease between his brows. Mackie gives you a look of understanding and a pair of thumbs up. 

You down your drink, try to cover the hiss as pain sears down your throat, and make to sit down in Tom’s booth. On the way in, you knock over the reserved sign, making it fall to the floor. Now, it’ll look like you didn’t know. 

[10.57] mackie Incoming

The front door opens slowly. Heads turn to look who comes through, and unlike when you arrived with Mackie and Evans, everyone’s eyes stay on the man who weaves his way through the crowd. 

Tom stops by the bar, has a small chat with the bartender and turns his head to look your way. A smirk grazes his lips as your eyes lock, but he quickly turns back to the man he was talking to. 

You swallow. You have to steady your beating heart, have to shove the thought of the night’s previous events to the back of your mind, and kill the deep swirling feeling in your gut at the sight of Tom in that blue fucking suit. God, if there was something Tom Hiddleston was made to do it’s wearing suits.

The blue color suits his very being. It’s tailored to fit him perfectly; long legs encased in blue fabric that shows off his bum, suit jacket that fits his shoulders and back in a way that has you swallow. You can see his broad shoulders and some of the tightness that drags at his muscled arms. What you can’t wait to see, is how well the shirt underneath fits him. You simply can’t wait for him to pull off the jacket. 

Thankfully, you don’t have to wait very long. With two drinks in hand he makes his way up to where you sit. He doesn’t say anything as he places them on the table, nor does he say anything when he pulls up the reserved sign from where it lies on the floor. He places it back on the table, eyes you warily, and sides into the booth. 

Long arms grasp for the drinks. He pulls them in and pushes one to you. “Can you drink, darling? You’re working, right?” 

You take the glass and swirl the liquid around inside it. “I can, actually.” And you take a sip. “But I won’t drink a lot.” 

Tom moves closer to you, knocking his thigh against yours. You take a deep breath at the touch, the only one you can return―Tom flirting with you whilst you work is no news, but it would be quite different if you did the same. “Have you been waiting long, darling?” 

“No, I haven’t. I managed to preoccupy myself.” 

“Oh, can I hear?” 

You shake your head. “What good would you have of that?” you ask. When you get a shrug in return, you roll your eyes and take another sip of the whiskey. “I have a question for you, though.”

Tom cocks a brow. 

“Why did you need someone to spy on Evans?” 

Your heart beats fast as Tom moves even closer, lips coming up to ghost across your cheek. You can see that the two in the crowd of people keeping a close eye on you flinch, but you don’t make a gesture to show any discomfort. “Have you not noticed, love?” 

You push him away by placing a hand on his chest. “Noticed what?” You try to pull your hand back but Tom places his over yours and keeps your touch on him. A small hint of the love he usually offers you shows through the blue of his eyes. 

“The man likes you, darling. A little too much. Can’t have another man try anything with my woman.” Tom’s gaze flickers out to the crowd, and as you follow it, you see how it lands on Evans and how your coworker squirms. “Now, if only I could show him.”

“Tom,” you say, voice bordering on affectionate. His eyes flicker to you in surprise; he’s only ever been Hiddleston in public. “There’s nothing to worry about, and if you try anything, anything at all, you will have a gun to your head.” 

Tom chuckles. “Are you threatening me?” 

“You know where the gun is.” And the hand that travels up and under your skirt, grazing by the thigh holster, has you swallow. You take a deep breath as his hand travels a little further, and the only way to stop him is to grab his hand. “I didn’t say you could check.” You push at him a little, creating more distance between you two (even though you would like to sit close to him). 

“I didn’t think I needed permission, love.” He smirks and you shake your head. 

You smile innocently at him. “Usually you don’t.” You go to slide out of the booth. “Bye, Hiddleston.” 

Tom grabs your arm and pulls you back to his chest. “Have you really made that big a dent in the case of the Blue Sweater?” he whispers in your ear. You writhe in his grasp, but a firm hand turns your head to him and his face draws closer to yours. “Tell me what I need to do to have the lead again, darling. I’ll do anything.” 

And you can’t stop the sound of surprise that escapes you when Tom presses a chaste kiss to your lips. The surprise is so big you only stare wide-eyed at him, not able to kiss him back (and good is that seeing as you’re in public), and when he pulls back, you push away from him and shake your head. 

“You’re an idiot,” you say (no teasing or play in your voice), and then you walk away. You rush out of the bar, feel Evans’s and Mackie’s eyes on you, and when you get out of the front door you lean against the wall. Your heart hammers in your chest. You’re panting, and you can feel the rush of adrenaline making its way through your body. 

You may like to play with fire, letting him flirt and show affection in public, but you wouldn’t ever go this far. You wouldn’t ever think he’d even risk it. 

“Are you okay?” comes a voice from next to you. Evans and Mackie have made it outside, and you push off the wall to start walking to the car. 

“We’re not talking about it,” you say. 

Neither of them make a move to say more, and you can hear them follow after you. Tom might be the worst person in history to be in a secret relationship with. Or maybe the best. You haven’t decided yet. 

--

It’s no surprise to see the people surrounding your desk when you get to work. Your two usual pests sit at their own, and though not a part of the group waiting for you, they shoot you glances as you sit down. 

You try not to glare at the group, but when they all just quietly stare at you, the anger bubbles. “What?” you ask. 

A small murmur goes through them, until your impatient glare becomes too much and one voice squeaks out, “did Tom Hiddleston kiss you?” 

He has more than once, you think. 

You don’t reply, only giving them an unamused look in return. They quickly scatter, and you can hear the chatter that bubbles up amongst them. 

Not only do you not have the patience for stupid pestering (and annoyance at Evans and Mackie for spreading the word), but your morning was the worst in a while. It’s almost become a usual for Tom to sleep over, whether because he falls asleep after sex or if he just wants to cuddle, but when you came home yesterday, there was no Tom. 

And no Tom means no morning cuddles, or a goodbye kiss as you leave out the door. On top of that, he hasn’t texted either. No saying why he didn’t show. No explaining why he risked a kiss in public. 

A text you did get in the morning, was a journalist asking for an interview. Especially interesting was the lack of respect for an ongoing investigation, and the bold way to ask whether or not you were secretly helping Tom not get caught (you want to know how they would even guess it. That’s a pretty bold assumption to make about the lead detective on a case). 

Tired, you rest your elbow on the desk and lay your head in your hand. You massage your forehead slightly, and there’s no mistaking the groan that leaves your lips as your thoughts swirl. 

A knock on your desk pulls you out of it. You look up to see Mackie leaning against it. “You okay?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta talk about what information we got, though. But I don’t trust… I don’t want to talk out here, so, briefing room in five minutes. I don’t know if Evans heard, but make sure he did.” 

Mackie scrunches his nose slightly and presses his lips together. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Briefing room’s occupied.” 

You curse under your breath and shake your head. “We got a meeting room, that occupied?” 

Mackie shakes his head. “Not that I know.” 

“We’ll meet there.” And as he gives you a thumbs up, you get up from your desk and move to the captain’s office. With a knock and a mumbled ‘come in’ you walk into the room and close the door behind you. 

Cheadle looks up at you. “I heard what happened.” 

You nod. “Yeah, but there’s something else I’m here about.” 

He quirks a brow. “Oh? Important?” 

You pull out your phone, ignore the new message you’ve gotten and find the text from the journalist. You hand the captain your phone. “Got this this morning. I want to know how they got my number, what made them think I’m colluding with the guy I’m trying to catch, and what the hell made them believe I’d ever talk to a news source about an open investigation.” 

“That is weird.” Captain Cheadle hands you back your phone (just in time, too, because a message chimes in from twh). “When you have time, come back in here. I know you’re gonna talk to the guys now, but I’d like for it to be soon. And check if they haven’t gotten the same one.”

“Yes, sir.” You sigh and walk out again. You head for the meeting room and on your way you pull open your text thread with Tom. 

[08.18] twh darling we need to talk i think i have some information you’d like to have

[08.23] you gonna talk about smth else too or just your problem??

[08.23] twh im sorry, darling, i got caught up in work we can talk about both tell me when you have time and ill show up at your flat

[08.23] you tonight, 8 

The reply goes by you as you open the door to the meeting room. Evans and Mackie already sit down, Evans with papers in front of him and Mackie with his phone out on the table. You frown, but sit down across from them. 

“I don’t know who wants to start.” You look between the two men, and when neither say anything, you shrug. “Guess I’ll go then.” You take a deep breath. “Our snitch’s name is Aaron Taylor-Johnson, the man Hiddleston mentioned yesterday when we questioned him about the fire. He isn’t dead because he was in the bar. He says he was hired a few months ago to keep tabs on Evans, but he got sick of it because, according to him, you’re not the threat. On the other hand, I am, but he didn’t know he was talking to me.”

“Did you find out why Hiddleston got him to spy on Evans?” asks Mackie. 

You shake your head. “Hiddleston didn’t answer that. Snitch didn’t know himself, but he said he tried to keep tabs on me, too, only he couldn’t. He didn’t have anything to go on, no information, no way to know what I look like. And I find that interesting. Why would Hiddleston go out of his way to make sure they couldn’t do anything to make me a culprit or anything?” 

“Maybe because Hiddleston has the biggest crush on you?” asks Evans, and there’s no mistaking the hint of spite in his voice as he says so. “Or, he finds you that big enough a threat he can’t have his guys going around doing stuff to hinder you because you’re smart enough to be able to connect it to him?” 

“I hope the last,” you mumble. “But there was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. He seemed to know more than he let on, but I couldn’t push like I usually do because then he’d know. I want to see if we can contact him again, because he knew we tried yesterday without luck.”

“We’ll try, but I don’t think we’re gonna get much either.” Evans nods, and all three of you let out sighs. 

You motion for them to start talking instead. Evans slides you a piece of paper. Not much is on it, but the words are clear. You look up at him. 

“There were some regulars there that have witnessed Hiddleston many times. The man I talked to said that.” Evans coughs. “‘He’s always alone, at least when he sits, but he leaves with men. Never has a girl around him unless they come up to him, hasn’t had one in a long time. Only once did he leave with one. She was pretty, looked rather intimidating, actually. Don’t think it lasted.’ The man also went on to ramble about how after that, Hiddleston hasn’t been seen with a girl. Well, before you.” 

“So he has left with a girl once.” Mackie confirms. “Luke Evans said the same thing. A pretty little thing that edged in on the man unlike no one he’d seen before, and that surprisingly got to leave with him. He’s never seen the woman again, and he found that odd. He doesn’t believe Hiddleston’s got someone in his life, though.” 

You bite your lower lip. “Well, that is something. Any descriptions?” 

Both shake their heads.

“There is one thing I noted, though,” says Mackie. “If Hiddleston does have someone he likes, is with, whatever. He so openly flirts with you that that woman has got to be furious, and he probably wouldn’t have kissed you either. I think the wristband was sent to him, not from him.” 

You nod. “I believe you’re right there.” You know he’s right, but that’s details you’re not sharing. “But I have something more interesting.” You fish your phone out of your pocket (ignore the new messages from Tom) and open up the one you got this morning. 

“What’s going on?” asks Evans as you place your phone in front of them on the table. They read over the text and cast eyes up to you. Something in the look both send, they’ve seen something similar before. 

“Got it this morning.” You snatch your phone back, seeing the almost pop-up about a new text and not risking who it’s from. “I need to know who believes I’m colluding with the enemy.”

Mackie nods as he opens up his own phone and slides it across to you. “We got the same text, though slightly altered. They’re asking if we know anything about you colluding with Hiddleston.”

[06.53] unkown Hi, I’m a reporter from New York Times. I was wondering if there would be released more information pertaining to the Hiddleston case, and what you know about Hiddleston and Detective Y/L/N’s relationship to the man. I heard last night that they kissed, and maybe the reason you haven’t caught him yet is something entirely else than him being good at what he does.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. You slide Mackie’s phone back to him and let out a loud sigh. 

Things are not looking very bright. 

--

A/N: thats what i have. if you want to, reblog this with a continuation, but please dont steal any of this and act like it’s your own. i worked a lot on this when i still had motivaton but i wanted to at least share it even if i wont finish it, to which im deeply sorry

would always want to know what you guys think... 

[jksangelic]

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot. 

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier​ get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.  

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

 Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

 Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak. 

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.  

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

 And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

 Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

 Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

 Part Six

 It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

 Part Seven

 After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

 Part Eight

 You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

 Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

 Final Part

 You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one. 

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it. 

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

❋ masterlist ❋

[venti3dieci]

THE DIZI TAG GAME

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag people you want to participate! (Also tag it #The Dizi Tag Game so we can see everyone’s lists)

Tagged by: @missloislane and @aslibekroglu thank you SO SO SO much! I was planning on doing it anyway even if I was never tagged because this seemed so fun so thank you for not letting me jumping off of someone else’s post

1. your first dizi & how you discovered Turkish dramas :

So, this is a long story so TL;DR: Kiralik Ask and facebook groups. 

Now, for the long story. It might have been 10 years ago now? probably less? I don’t know, since the end of highschool I have lost consciousness of time and what a year is and when it ends. Anyway, Kiralik Ask was all the rage in Italy and in the facebook groups I was in, people were talking about this and Cherry Season a lot (I’m pretty sure this wasn’t 10 years ago but I’m dramatic) and I became obsessed with all the videos and things and everything (of KA, I didn’t care for Cherry Season) BUT I did not watch it then. Years later, like maybe three years ago? maybe 2? No idea. I discovered Vatanim Sensin thanks to @rescuemeifyoucan and her posts about it and became obsessed with that as well so, like a normal person, I searched for Hileon videos on YouTube and found every single scene they were in (only Hileon scenes) and watched a lot of those videos, probably 3/4 of the first season, stayed up all night (fun fact, I went to sleep at like 8 in the morning and when I woke up a couple hours later I got called and did my stage/started working at the place I’m at) and that was my initiation to Turkish shows but since I did not actually watch it, only precise scenes, that is not technically my first dizi. About 2 weeks of VS and only VS I decided that it was time to watch KA (because I found a playlist of YT of every episode from the beginning with Italian subtitles and others in English subtitles if the Italian ones were missing) so technically this is my first actual turkish dizi watched, since it is the first dizi that I have seen complete episodes of, from the first episode.

2. show(s) you’re currently watching:

Technically none but also technically thousands. So, technically (expect this word to be the most used in this post) I am currently watching Menajerimi  Ara (haven’t watched since more than two months ago probably), Alev Alev (last watched I think last month) 50m2 (again, last watched last month), Kiralik Ask (it’s been a few years actually BUT I haven’t given up on it yet and I will continue it... someday), Her Yerde Sen (last watched probably last year? Maybe start of the pandemic, maybe before that), Kuzey Yildiz (last watched I think the end of last year), Halka (I have no idea when I stopped with this honestly), Kara Para Ask (last year? maybe? Before Her Yerde Sen I think), Benim Tatli Yalanim (around the time of HYS), Kimse Bilmez (again, around HYS time). I haven’t seen any of these for some time but they are all shows that I plan to continue sooner or later. It’s all shows I loved but put aside because I found a new obsession but I do get back to them sometimes.

3. your favorite genre of dizi (romcom, mafia show, contemporary drama, historical/fantasy, etc.):

Romcom. I do like some dramas but I tend to hate almost all of the characters except a selected few and I can’t handle all that hate, my liver cannot survive it.

4. the show you rewatch (parts of) the most:

I think KA? or MA? or HYS? They are my favorite shows of the ones I have started. Also Ask 101 (the only Turkish show I have actually completed and only because it’s not 10 thousand episodes long and it’s easily available on Netflix so it’s easy to rewatch again)

5. favorite Turkish actor and actress (feel free to pick multiples):

I have this problem, it’s names, I rarely know the names of actors, if I know them I forget them, I sometimes mistake the character’s name with the actor’s name, sometimes the opposite so let’s try this and see what mess comes out: 

Aybuke Pusat, the guy who played Demir on HYS, the two friends of Selin from HYS and the receptionist. Elcin (?) and Baris (?) from KA, Burcu (?), Alina, Kubilay, and the other kids from Ask 101, Dicle and Baris and Julide from MA, Hilal and Leon from VS, Cicek di Alev Alev, Cagatay Ulusoy (I remember his name! my beloved CaCa), The female protagonist of KPA (she was also in the first episode of MA which is the reason why I started that show), Hande Ercel, Kerem Bursin, Elcin (?), Melisa, the one who played the third main friend, the red headed girl, all from SCK, Ismail (?) and the actress of Yildiz from Kuzey Yildiz, also the three girls from there. Most of the cast of Hercai, although I hate more than half of the characters. 

I feel so bad that I don’t remember their name. I swear I love them!

6. a show you quit before finishing:

A few. First and foremost Sefirin Kizi (couldn’t get past episode 1). Erkenci Kus (hated the direction it was going, which was in circles), Ask Laftan Anlamaz (hated hated hated the lie that guy protagonist said. Wanted to watch after but I can’t do that to myself). Sad to say but also Sen Cal Kapimi. I loved it SO MUCH and then first he does that stupid break up thing that I hate (because it similarly happened in ALS and that is the whole reason why I never finished that show so already not a good start), then it seems to be picking up and we got the amnesia thing so yeah, nope, not doing it. Afili Ask (I liked it but not enough to continue and I have to give up on a few shows). Also probably Hercai since I enjoy how it ended in season one and never felt the urge to continue.

Technically most of the answers from the 2 question apply here as well but I do intend on continuing those, these ones, however, I will not continue. 

7. favorite song(s) you’ve discovered in dizi’s:

Birakman Dogru Mu 2 by Zeynep Bastik and Anil Piyanci, heard on Menajerimi Ara and the song that started my love for pop songs made in Turkey

8. the show whose plot disappointed you the most:

Sen Cal Kapimi and Ask Laftan Anlamaz are the ones that first come to mind. And Erkenci Kus. God, Erkenci Kus disappointed me SO MUCH.

9. a show that was cancelled too soon / ran too long:

Ran too long: definitely EK. And SCK (sorry not sorry, it should have ended right before the amnesia).

Cancelled too soon: I don’t usually watch shows that get cancelled soon (in the sense that I usually wait a bit before watching a show because I wouldn’t want for it to be cancelled while I am passionate about it) and technically I do not yet know if they were cancelled too soon, but I would say HYS and Benim Tatli Yalanim because I was loving them and I have less than 10-15 episodes left to watch

10. favorite character(s):  

The children in every drama are my favorite so Gul (Hercai), the children in Alev Alev, the child in Sefirin Kizi (the only character to save themselves in that show except for Gediz), the girl from BTY, Bulut (?) from Dolunay. Also CeyCey (EK), Baris and Dicle from MA, basically the entire cast of SCK (I might hate the direction where this is going but I do love the characters), the main characters from ALA (except for the main male protagonist, he can choke), the main characters from Atesbocegi, Suna from BTY, Reyyan (Hercai), a lot of others, I just don’t remember the names.

11. your favorite romantic pairing(s):

ReyMir (Hercai), LeyEm (Erkenci Kuş), Edser (Sen Çal Kapımı), Defom (Kiralık Aşk), SelDem (HYS), Suna x Nejat (BTY), DicBar (MA), Bahar x Kaan (Halka), Ibo x Ayda (?) (HYS), YilKuz (Kuzey Yildiz), probably others. 

12. favorite side character(s):

Cey Cey (Erkenci Kuş), Julide (MA) (I know people hate her but to the moment I’m at, I still love her), Ayda (?) (HYS), Burcu (BTY), again, others but I don’t remember the names.

13. best kiss:

I love the fire side (?)  kiss between Selin and Demir from HYS as well as their kiss when she thinks that he stood her up when in fact he didn’t even know that he was supposed to go on a date with her and so she gets pissed off (rightfully so) and he chases after her and OMG I love them! Also the first and second kiss between Nejat and Suna. These last three I have made gifs of, and they were my first gifs, unedited, kinda ugly, but I love them (not saying that I make good gifs now because I do not, they are still ugly and unedited but not my firsts anymore).

14. an underrated show more people should watch: 

Her Yerde Sen. And Benim Tatli Yalanim. And Menajerimi Ara (although more people were getting into it). And Alev Alev.

15. a show everyone loves that you aren’t interested in:

The one with Demet Ozdemir (BOK I believe is the tag). Never was interested in it but based on gifs alone, I think they had the character who is either played by an actor whose name is Ismail or the character is called Ismail make a 180 from season 1 to season 2 and I hate it when they do this kind of things in books and series (I might be wrong though) so now I have even less interest in it. Also Son Yaz. The gifs, I love them, but I don’t want to actively watch the show. I’ll enjoy it from gifs and posts about it.

16. a show you want to recommend right now:  

Menajerimi Ara, Kara Para Ask, Her Yerde Sen, Alev Alev, Benim Tatly Yalanim. 

17. the next show on your list:  

none, to be honest. I mean, I already have a LOOOONG list of shows to finish so it’s better that way. 

tagging: @rescuemeifyoucan and, for people who heve not been tagged yet, take this as the sign that I am tagging you.

[jksofficialwifey]

Kiss me, Heal me. 2

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: When Jungkook gets injured just before an important game, he sets out to find his soulmate to heal him. In a world where soulmates can heal all kinds of illnesses by kissing, he’s desperate to find his, even if he doesn’t know you yet. What happens if he does find you? Will you kiss a stranger who claims to be your soulmate?

WC: 3k+

tags: idiots and enemies to lovers, a lil slowburn, a bit of angst, soulmate culture, smut in the future.

pls don’t repost my fic anywhere, if i ever find out you stole my fic idea you’ll regret it. thanks :)

A/N: this is unedited as always so sowee 👅💋 hope ya still like it tho! enjoy loves. :)

I also rec. listening to these songs while reading this: sigrid - mine right now, and Let Go by BTS.

chapter summary: You were about to kiss Jungkook to finally get the whole ordeal over with and never talk to him again. But then, someone familiar shows up to ruin it all.

You had a lovely dessert at your fave icecream shop, courtesy to Jungkook for giving you free banana sundaes. Charlie came along too of course, as if she’d pass up free icecream. You talked about when you were gonna do it, and you clarified if his girlfriend really approved the whole situation. He said she did, and you were relieved but at the same time still nervous about it. You were gonna kiss Jungkook, and it was gonna be your first.(the boy you bumped your lip with cos he snapped his head towards you so fast doesn’t count so) Just thinking about it is giving you all the nerves.

Your first kiss was really gonna be for pity huh. how unfortunate for you. At least you’re helping someone, someone that’s your soulmate that is. The good thing about having soulmates in this world is at least, they’re purposeful. Not like the ones you read in books who are just soulmates and then what? they kiss and fall in love- lmao what do they contribute to society? maybe you’re bitter cos no one’s ever liked you before, but you at least have a point, No matter how shitty it is.

Anyway, After you guys finished your dessert Charlie went home, as you both decided to do the thing now at his place. In his room. When you arrived at Jungkook’s dorm room, you noticed that it was clean and quite organized. Not really what you were expecting a guy’s room to be. He had posters of linkin park, and IU lmao. Albeit, you were really surprised that the jock’s room was neat. Your zoning out was interrupted by the hot jock speaking.

“Uh…You should make yourself comfortable Y/N. I mean, you can. Let’s get it done with so it’ll be over and I don’t have to bother you anymore.” He said not meaning to be cold, but just being honest. “Of course.” you replied indifferently. You sat on his bed as you didn’t really find somewhere else that was comfortable to do your smooching- lol smooching, now you’ve become cringy.

Jungkook sat soon after- he changed his shirt, which he asked you if you didn’t mind as men didn’t have such big tits anyway, and he was trying to make the mood lighter. You agreed of course, you didn’t mind seeing shirtless men. You had male neighbors before who didn’t even care to put on a shirt when they went out. Also, you didn’t understand why girls in kdramas would scream if they saw one, it wasn’t such a big deal. But then you thought, maybe it’s because koreans are conservative that’s why they’re shocked when they see shirtless guys.

Actually, you did mind that Jungkook changed in front of you. His abs were so delectable you wanted to lick them. You weren’t a pervert but you were kinda a pervert, let’s stop kidding here. And you were quite sure that his body was sculpted by the gods themselves. And his biceps were so big- ughh you wanted to be choked by them and let him end your misery. Was he really your soulmate? what did you do in your past life to deserve him? But then again, it doesn’t matter. He has a girlfriend and he’ll never like you. He’s way too out of your league and you’re aware of it. Nevertheless, it still didn’t stop the way your heart jumped when he told you, “You really wouldn’t mind right? I am your soulmate after all.” And then he smirked right after.

That beautifully annoying smirk of his,that you’ve now come to hate. And now you’re both sat on his bed, preparing for the inevitable. He breaks the awkwardness when he talks first,“Um…so can we do it now?” he asks. “Uh, yea.” you shyly replied. He leaned towards you, face inching closer, closer than ever and just when he was 1cm from your lips the door opened, astounding you both from the person who just got in.

“Chaeyoung? what are you doing here?” Jungkook asked the girl who just barged in. Chaeyoung? is she his girlfriend? “Baby, I wanted to see you. I realized just how much i missed you. But who’s she? are you cheating on me?” her tone suddenly raised when she realized how close the two of you were.

“No chae, you’ve got it wrong. This is Y/N. My soulmate. I’ve told you about her right?” Jungkook said. “Oh. yea. So are you done doing it yet?” she asked looking at you menacingly. “No we haven’t yet, because you barged in. Can you leave for a bit so we can have some privacy?” Jungkook replied.

“Me? leaving? no way kook. I just came here, and if she’s gonna kiss you then I might as well be here so there’s no funny business that’s gonna happen.”

“lmao, as if anything’s gonna happen.” you retorted mumbling a bit. “Excuse me, what did you say?” she asked you. “Oh, nothing.” you said with sarcasm hinting your voice. “Okay chae, why are you here again? we talked about this already. You agreed,” Jungkook said, confused.

“Yes, but… as I’ve said, I missed you Kook. And now I realized I can’t bear to see you kiss someone else. Can we just find another way?” she dramatically whined.

“Chae, it’s just gonna be a short kiss. It’s better and easier than doing a blood transfusion. You know I’m afraid of needles…” Jungkook reasoned. “But Kook! I really can’t handle letting you, my boyfriend- kiss someone else. Please…Just do the blood transfusion…” She then sobbed with her crocodile tears. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice it, or he at least pretended not to notice how fake her tears were. You did though.

“Fine. I’ll do it for you, because I want to save this-” Jungkook seemed to remember you were still in the room, and he looked towards you. Chaeyoung seemed to remember too, so she screamed in joy interrupting him from continuing what he was gonna say and chaeyoung hugged her boyfriend, thanking him a lot.

You went home after the drama that happened, though you didn’t know why you were a bit disappointed that you failed your mission? lmao, kissing jungkook was your mission? You should stop having stupid thoughts, it won’t do you any good. It won’t save your stone cold but still fragile heart. You thought about what Jungkook was almost gonna say, what did he mean by saving their… relationship? was it relationship that he was gonna say? could it be that they were having it rough? If they’re gonna break up then, that means you still have a chance. You smacked your head with your hand, now you were just being delusional. You shouldn’t wish for people to break up ughh, what was happening to you. You weren’t really like this.

This soulmate thing is just messing with your head. And he’s messing with your head. Your phone beeped and you opened it to see a message from Jungkook. He said if you were up to do the blood transfusion tomorrow, and you replied yes. Blood transfusion is another way to heal soulmates, though it’s draining. You and your soulmate’s blood is believed to have healing properties. made just for the both of you, if you gave it to another person it wouldn’t have any effect. It’d just be a normal blood transfusion.

You and Jungkook walked inside the soulmate hospital, you had made small talk on the way there. You encouraged and comforted him that it’ll be alright, that It’ll feel like just an ant biting you. He agreed with you but he still looked nervous. After a while, the doctor came and asked you both if you were ready to start the procedure and you both said yes, but jungkook said if he could talk to you for a bit, before you start with it. “Jungkook are you okay? What did you want to talk about?” You asked, concern etched in your face.

“Y/N…I’m still kinda nervous about this whole thing. It’s too embarrassing to say this but I got traumatized when I was a child. The nurse before accidentally injected me in the wrong place and the needle almost broke. What if it happens again?” He looked so scared, you felt really bad for him.“Jungkook I’m sorry that happened to you. If you don’t wanna do it right now, I understand and it’s okay with me. But i think the doctor that’s gonna assist us is great and I’m positive he won’t make a mistake like that. Let’s just have faith on the positive side.” You tried to assure him.

“And Jungkook, I’m here. I won’t let them make a mistake, even if they do, I’ll sue them for even just rubbing the wrong alcohol in your arm. So don’t worry to much, I’m here. Were in this together.” You said comforting him. He smiled a little at what you said, it seemed to have calmed down his nerves a little.“Fine, I’ll do it. But, you need to promise not to laugh at me if I scream okay?” you nodded and said yes.

After an hour the transfusion was done and you were now both heading home. or you were at least. “Jungkook I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.” you said. “Yeah…I guess I was just a big coward. But thanks anyway, for helping me and all. I can finally go back to practice and live my life like I used to.” Yeah, a life without me. Of course, just the way it is. “Thank you really Y/N. You don’t know how grateful I am for you. For finding you.” He stared at you for so long, you’re afraid you’d melt soon. “Eh, it’s no biggie. I am a good person after all. An angel if you must know,” You said with a teasing tone at the end.

“Of course you are. Thank you again my angel, for healing me. Though I would’ve preferred it more if you used the other method-” Jungkook stopped talking when his phone rang. It was his girlfriend chaeyoung you assumed. Since he looked quite disoriented. “Uh, Y/N it was chae. She said she’ll pick me up. Are you going home now? you could ride with us and I’ll drop you off to your place.” He offered.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just take the bus or walk. It’s good exercise anyway.” You replied. You didn’t wanna third wheel with them. “Oh, are you sure? it’s the least I could do to repay you.” “Yeah, I’m sure. And you better not forget my lifetime supply of free banana sundaes and one favor that I could ask from you at any time.” You reminded him.

“Oh right. I almost forgot. And here I thought you were a real angel.” He joked. “Excuse me, of course I am. You’re just indebted to an angel that’s why you need to pay.” you retorted. The bus came and you decided to skip exercise for another day. “I’m just gonna ride the bus. Goodbye kook, hope I’ll never see you again except to give me my free sundaes.” You teased him. “Hey, I hope I never see you again too!” He taunted back.

And you rode the bus getting away from him, too scared that you might stare at him again, and never forget his face.

You didn’t know why your head wouldn’t stop pounding. Your nose wouldn’t stop sneezing, your throat felt like hell and you felt literally sick. Maybe you were sick. Ugh. What a bad timing to get the flu. You were feeling weak since the blood transfusion some days ago, and now you’re quite sure you’ve got the flu. Wth. The doctor did say though, there were side effects of resisting the natural way to heal soulmates. Urgh. You hated that you had to suffer like this. Stupid Jungkook and his stupid cute face. You were still scrolling thru his instagram, yas you gave each other your social media accs. You wanted to save money than buying load so it was easier. Fortunately had free wifi in your dorm, though it was unstable sometimes.

He posted something recently on his account, you noticed. It was Him in his soccer uniform, captioned with “I’m back y'all. I missed working hard during practice 👅 or noT-” He still looked good as ever. You think he dyed his hair blond? or was it just the tips? whatever. It was hidden in the cap he was wearing, lmao he looked like a baseball player more than a soccer one. Meanwhile he was looking like a God, you were here looking like you were dying. Just your casual look even worse. Also seeing his girlfriend’s comment just made your migraine worse. She said something about Jungkook being hot. Wew, wish everyone could have a boyfriend as hot as him. You said sarcastically in your thoughts.

You were too sick to go to class today, so you texted Charlie you wouldn’t be able to come because of your annoying flu. You also asked her to buy some paracetamol and decongestants. You were gonna sleep it off and hopefully, after a few days you’ll get better. You can’t afford to miss any class and you had a part time job as a tutor in your university that you should do.

When Charlie found out that you were still ill, and it’s been 5 days already, she made up a plan. You weren’t gonna like it, but maybe you’ll thank her someday. She had a knack that you would. So she texted the only person that knew how to help you. She texted Jungkook, your cute ass soulmate.

Jungkook was busy with practice and trying not to die from his girlfriend’s wrath. They were fighting again, that’s just what they do these days. And he was kinda sick of it, to be honest. If they weren’t fighting, she’s ignoring him. And if he ignores her back, she’ll just blame it on him for not communicating with her. He wasn’t even sure if he still liked her? He’s been contemplating his feelings for her for so long now. He was out of his reverie when he got a text from someone. It was Charlie? What would Charlie want with him? He read it and saw that it was bout Y/N. She was sick? Charlie told him that she got sick because of helping him, so he needs to help her too. Jungkook asked her how he could help, and charlie said, he just needed to be with her. To take care of her.

He was busy but finding out his soulmate was sick because of him, made him feel guilty and shitty too. So he agreed to Charlie’s plan. He’ll surprise her at her dorm. ‘Cause the girl may have hinted that y/n didn’t want to see him, so he’ll just have to surprise her.

When Jungkook arrived at your dorm, charlie accompanied him and told him where your room was. He was holding a fruit basket but there was also 2 boxes of ramen in it. lol. He even bought you a Peppa Pig stuffed toy, because Charlie said it’d cheer you up. Did you really like Peppa Pig? whatever. Charlie went home right away- after pushing Jungkook to knock on the door.

You were expecting Charlie when you opened the door, And you didn’t expect to see him instead. It didn’t help that he looked handsome and cute as ever too. He was in his casual polo shirt and skinny tight ripped jeans, and you couldn’t help but gawk at him for a few seconds. “What are you doing here Jungkook?” You asked. You were also reminded of your current physical state. You looked like trash.

“Uh… I came to see if you were okay. How are you doing?” He asked, “I’m fine Jungkook. You didn’t have to come here.” You didn’t mean to be rude, but you didn’t want him to see you like this. Ugly and sick. Or more like uglier, since you were already ugly to you. You were embarrassed to be seen by him like this you guessed. “You don’t look fine to me though? Are you sure?” He retorted.

“I’m sure kook, why ask if you knew already anyway?” you couldn’t hold back from being a bitch today. You still felt like shit and he just had to see it too. You just had to see him too. “I’m sorry then. Stop being a twat, I bought some ramen and fruits.” He said, holding them out to you. And you finally noticed the fruit basket he was holding. You also noticed something else. “Is that a Peppa pig plushie? Wtf.” You commented.

“Um, yea Charlie said you’d like it- I mean I thought you’d like it…” he said, caught in his lie but he still tried to save her. Though you knew better that he really planned this with your friend. traitors. You were gonna take your revenge after you’re healed.“Drop it Jungkook, I know charlie sent you here.” You said coldly, “Also, you shouldn’t have listened to her. I hate peppa pig. But thanks anyway.” You replied as you took the plushie and placed it somewhere.

“I also bought more of your meds, I’ll just put them here.” He said as he placed some paracetamol on your table. “I’ll cook some ramen now, You want some right?” He inquired. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jungkook and you ate your ramen in peace for the time being. After eating, he made sure you drank your meds, and you both cuddled in your bed to watch Shrek on your laptop. You didn’t wanna cuddle him but he insisted, even if you told him he might get sick too, and then you’ll both be sick. How will you take care of each other then? He just shrugged it off. It was like that for a few days, though you still felt nauseous. It was on the last day that you were sick that something happened. Something you didn’t expect, and should never have happened.

You were both watching twilight: breaking dawn part 1 where Bella looked like shit carrying Renesmee inside her, when he asked you something. “Y/N…” “What is it kook? you’re interrupting the movie.” “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Yea i guess. now shut up, let’s get back to watching the movie.” You told him. “But you still feel like shit right? maybe like bella except less worse. What if I suggest something?” He was looking at you, body turned to you but you were too dumb to notice. “I’m fine Kook, I’m giving you one last chance to shut the hell up.” You taunted him, He didn’t seem to be offended by it even just a little.

“What if I do the natural way to make you feel better?” He was asking you a weird question. What is he even suggesting? “What do you mean you idiot?” You said, still not paying too much attention on him. You were still trying to watch the damn movie, or at least pretending to do so. Even though his nice scenting cologne, and his attractiveness was really distracting.

“What if I did this-” He grabbed your face and sealed your lips with his. What the actual fuck. He’s kissing you. And you’re letting him. You’re letting him because you want to, of course. That’s the only thing not stopping him. You wanted him to kiss you too. Oh, you were feeling better already. Is this what a soulmate’s healing kiss feels like? it feels surreal. Like sparks flying and your soul ascending wtf.

You don’t even know how to kiss someone, but you kissed him back. His tongue asking permission to enter your mouth. And then, you were french kissing him. Wow, who knew your perverted ass could be a pro at this. He suddenly stopped kissing you, and you were afraid he regretted it. “I’ve been wanting to do that since we met you know? At least now, we’re even.” He’s so annoying. You really hate him a lot.

You couldn’t really speak, you were catching your breath too. You suddenly felt shy and hugged peppa pig kook instead, yeah. That’s what you named the plushie he gave you. Will he leave now? or will you make out forever? What does he mean by doing all of this? What about Chaeyoung? Ugh. Whatever, it doesn’t matter 'cause it feels like he’s yours right now. As he always should’ve been.

TBC. 💜 positive feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! your comments are what inspires us writers to write more! so pls do comment what u liked about the story, for me to give you fast updates ty.

taglist: @mrcleanheichou @taehyungiev13 @hunnayesblog @busansgloss @binki-g @hoodmeup

Ch. 3 is done but im letting Early Access readers read it first, so if you wanna read the next chapter now just buy me a coffee on ko-fi and I'll email the chapter to u! Thankiezz 💜😘 ily all https://ko-fi.com/neinyajung 

next chapter taglist notifs will now be on the tumblr groupchat i made for KMHM readers. if u wanna be tagged, reblog and comment on this chapter to be invited on the gc! ty 💜

[heyitsani]

Freebie Friday

That’s totally a thing, right?  IDK I just needed a title because my OCD requires it.  Anyway, with my hubs home for the unforeseeable future thanks to maskholes and COVID deniers, I was able to plow through the rest of my DG Exchange fic!  Which means, I was able to work on some other stuff.  

My past lives AU in particular.  So I’m gonna give you all a little sneak peek at that piece.  Particularly @epistemologys because you left such love on the first part of this series. 

Here is the first piece of the Before We Learned Our Truth Too Late series.  This bit is from Damian’s POV of the story, sort of.  It essentially picks up from where the previous piece ends.  In order to not give anything away, I am sharing a past life memory with Damian and Jason (and a tiny side appearance from Dick).

I have also tagged this piece with the hashtag ‘past lives au’ and will use that for any bits I post regarding this series.  Like headcanons and scenes that don’t make the final cut.  Things like that.  Feel free to send requests regarding the series into my asks!

Reminder: this is completely unedited and raw.  All mistakes are my own.

Enjoy!

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

“I may be a king, but he is my son.  And I will not ignore him for my duties.  I will not have him think I care for others more than I care for my own child.” Damian frowned as he hid just around the corner from where his father was speaking to a high-ranking member of the Council.  He didn’t need to hear the start of the conversation to know that this was in regard to the appearance he had made earlier when the Council had been in session.  He hadn’t known and wouldn’t have barged in if he had, but once he had come in his father had insisted on hearing what he had come in for.

Like he always did, and Damian never gave much thought to.

“What are you doing, Little Prince?”  Damian flinched when a voice sounded behind him.  Turning, he found Ser Jason standing with a knowing smile on his lips and an amused glint in his eyes.  “We should work on your awareness regarding your surroundings.”

Sighing, the ten-year-old turned his back completely to what he had been watching and looked up at the man who was, for all intents and purposes, a second father to him.  “I made a mistake today,” he admitted, looking down at the ground.  Ser Jason said nothing, and Damian peeked up at the man through his lashes.  The frown that was present confused him.

“Did your father say you made a mistake?”  Damian shook his head and looked back down.  “Did he tell you that you did anything wrong?  Treat you as though you had?”

He thought back to the moment he had rushed into the room and how his father had looked at him.  He hadn’t looked thrilled, but he had looked happy at the very least.  He remembered how he had heard muttering coming from the men and women at the table but how his father had ignored them and let Damian climb into his lap and tell him about the jump he had made on his horse earlier.

“No,” Damian admitted, scuffing his boot on the ground.  “But…” Glancing over his shoulder, he frowned at the corner that hid his father and the Councilmember.

“But nothing, Little Prince,” Ser Jason said, kneeling to get eyelevel with him.  Damian looked at the older man, still feeling ashamed for upsetting the Council and forcing his father to have to speak up.  “Come with me, I’ll tell you a story.”  Ser Jason stood and held his hand out for Damian to take while they walked.

Hesitating just a moment, with one last backward glance, Damian slipped his smaller hand into the much larger one.  He remained silent as they walked away from where his father had been and toward the kitchens.

“When you were born your father was concerned,” Ser Jason started as they got far enough away from his father, so they would not be overheard.  “Your grandmother, Talia, was not the warmest of mothers.  She was strict and enforced many rules on your father and uncle.  She wanted them to be the very best and she thought that meant not treating them as her children, but as her pupils.  Even though Prince Timothy was just a toddler and your father not much older.  Your grandfather, though kinder and more understanding, took his duty as king very seriously when he was crowned after your father was born.”

Having heard stories about his grandmother from his father, what Ser Jason was telling him made sense.  And he knew his grandfather well enough to know how important duty was to him.  But he didn’t understand what this had to do with what had happened today.  Or why his father had been concerned when he had been born.

“He told me he was worried you would not know just how loved you were.  That you might grow up the way he had because your mother was not going to be…very attentive.  He worried he would be like his own father.”  Damian looked up at the man and stopped walking, furrowing his brows at that revelation.  Ser Jason laughed and gave his hand a tug so they could resume walking.  “That face you’re making just supports what I had told him.  There was no way that your father would do anything other than love you openly.”

Damian considered this information as he was led into the kitchens and then lifted onto one of the stools he and Ser Jason always sat on while indulging in a snack.  He missed the way the cook rolled her eyes as Ser Jason gave her his bright smile.  He didn’t see the other kitchen workers chuckling as the head cook went to get them a snack.  All he could focus on was the fact that his father, the one person he had never doubted cared deeply for him, had worried Damian wouldn’t know love.

“Ser Jason?”  Damian looked over at the man as he took his usual seat.  The man raised a dark brow and waited for Damian to continue.  “Did I get Father in trouble today?”  Ser Jason looked startled for a moment before laughing loudly. Glancing around, Damian noticed the entire kitchen staff stopped to watch the pair fondly for a moment before going back to their tasks.

“Little Prince,” Ser Jason gasped, still chuckling, “your father gets himself in trouble with the Council all the time, and he will always admit when he is wrong.  But on this?  On this he will never admit any faults.  Because loving you?  Being your father first and foremost?  That is not a fault.”  Relaxing a little onto his stool, Damian sighed.  He was glad to hear his father was not in trouble because of him.  

Smiling at the cook who set a plate in front of them, Damian thanked her before turning that smile onto the man next to him.  He wasn’t at all surprised to find that familiar smile on Ser Jason’s face, the one Damian knew was just for him and his father.  

[dreamcatcherfication]

The Queens of London Part 6 - What Am I To Do With My Life?

Man, I wrote this at like... 1 AM and it shows, it really shows.

Hello everyone, welcome back! I know it’s been a while (2 weeks!) since I’ve posted another chapter for this fic, but I got really busy with a bunch of other stuff, so it kept getting pushed back. I know you guys are used to getting pampered with new fics coming out everyday, but I still have a lot of stuff to balance, and sometimes my longer fics get put on hold as I get things back on track. But not to worry, we’re here now, and I’m not abandoning this fic! I didn’t get to edit this chapter, so I’m going to post it unedited and I’ll go back through and edit it later today when I have time. I hope you enjoy this part and that it suffices for a 1 AM keyboard smash. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my body is on fire and yes that can be interpreted figuratively or literally.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Depression, feelings of worthlessness, self destructive thoughts

Kat was sitting on her couch, legs curled up to her chest and a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She was in her pajamas and her hair was a complete mess. Kat’s guitar was leaning against the wall, it’s chords unused and forgotten. After her failure with the queens, it had been impossible for Kat to find it in herself to get up and street perform during the day. She couldn’t go out and watch Jane walk by. She couldn’t perform knowing that she had let down the people who had been depending so heavily on her.

It should’ve been obvious to her this whole time. Kat knew from the start she wasn’t a queen, nor was she a lady. She was in way over her head, that much had always been clear. But after the party at Henry’s house, it was practically spelled out in glittering letters for Kat. She didn’t belong. Never had, never would. Plain and simple. So why should she try?

The depressive haze had taken over Kat’s body as she sat in a ball on the couch, her eyes blankly staring at the wall. She didn’t have a television, so all she could look at was the moldy walls that housed her. It was disgusting to her, the life she lived, but it was all she had. To believe, even for a second, that she could trade it for fancy suits and lavish parties… 

Kat was naive to think anything would change. She knew better now. She knew that she couldn’t keep this charade up, and she certainly wasn’t cut out to be a queen. Not now, not ever. 

The knock on the door wasn’t enough to shake Kat out of her blank staring. She didn’t answer it, choosing to stay silent and still. There was rustling on the other side of the door before the lock clicked and it opened up.

Walking into the room with a small bag, Anne frowned at Kat’s appearance. “Kat, why are you in your pajamas, we got a meeting tonight?”

Shrugging, Kat barely reacted to Anne’s question. She hummed something noncommittal and squeezed herself tighter into a ball. “Kat, come on,” Anne set the bag down and moved over to her cousin. “You can’t just wallow here for eternity.”

“Yes I can,” Kat mumbled before groaning and unfurling herself. “Just go away Anne.”

Sitting down on the couch, Anne flicked some lint off the crusty plush furtniture. “I’m not going to leave you here alone. Tell me what’s up?”

Dropping her eyes, Kat sighed. Without looking in Anne’s eyes, she answered, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Not believing it for a second, Anne moved closer to the teen. “Come on, I can tell that something’s up. You can tell me.” “Why?” Kat glared at her own hands defensively. “So you can make fun of me?”

“I won’t make fun of you,” Anne argued, almost putting her hand on Kat’s back but thinking better of it. “Promise. Cross my heart.”

Kat didn’t trust Anne’s words, but she spilled anyway. “I’m a failure. I let you and the others down. I haven’t belonged here since day one and I’ve only made things worse and harder for you all. I shouldn’t be here.”

Letting the words bounce off her, Anne huffed. “Come on now, that’s not true. We knew from the start it would be hard, none of this is your fault. And I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Anne paused dramatically before continuing, “None of us belong. None of us are really friends - except Cathy and Aragon, and each of our ladies. We’re all struggling Kat, not just you.”

Anne’s confession made Kat feel slightly better, but it was still overshadowed by her fear and doubt. “But at least you all have a reason, a motivation. Something important that you contribute. I’m nobody.”

“And yet you’re perfect,” Anne assured her. “When you watch a spy movie, does the government pick that famous billionaire or the naive looking ‘newbie’ to go undercover.”

Kat shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see a spy movie.”

“Okay -” Anne reiterated, “What I’m trying to say is being ‘nobody’ is exactly what we need. You’re practically invincible if you can’t be tracked down. You’re special Kat, far more special than any of us.”

The words sunk into Kat’s skin, even though she tried to keep them out. Kat wanted to say that she was worthless, because it was easier to hate herself than to look into Anne’s eyes and believe her promises. “I’m going to quit.” The forcefulness of her statement surprised Kat herself, but she held firm. Even when Anne gave her a pleading face, Kat didn’t budge. “I’m going to tell them the truth and I’m going to quit.”

Scrambling for a reply, Anne stood up. “At least come to tonight's meeting. Sit through the meeting and make your decision by the end. If you still want to back out, then I won’t stop you. But please, at least think about staying?”

Kat nodded, although internally she had already made up her mind. There was no way she was going to let the queens convince her to stay. Standing up to go change out of her pajamas, Kat froze a few steps away from Anne. “What’s in the bag you brought?”

“Hmm?” Anne turned her head to the bag. “Oh, nothing much. Just some food I bought from Tescos for you.”

Biting her lip, Kat went into her room and grabbed a change of clothes. She muttered lowly enough that Anne couldn’t hear, “I don’t need your pity,” as she got ready.

The familiar table sent shivers up Kat’s spine as Aragon went over the recap of the failed party. Kat was drowning out the woman’s voice, her shoulders hunched in as she waited for it to end. It felt like all the women were staring at her, blaming her for what had happened. It was all too much, but Kat wouldn’t let herself break down in front of them. She would keep her Katherine Brandon facade for one more night, and then it would end.

“We’ve got some news,” Joan spoke up when Aragon was done. “Maria’s been spending some time creating a code, and she’s finally ready to share.”

Maria made her way to the head of the table and set her hands down. “Yesterday we only had a single earpiece for Cathy, but Maggie’s been making sure we get them for each and every one of you. It took some time, but I’ve figured out the best way we can interact with each other using these. It’s going to seem quite simple, but it’s actually extraordinary. You see, each of you are assigned a number, and with those numbers, we and your fellow queens can contact you.”

“Interesting,” Anna stuck out her bottom lip in appreciation.

Leaning forward, Jane asked, “So what are our numbers?”

“Very basic,” Maria explained, “Aragon is one.” The CEO nodded. “Anne is two.”

Blanching, Anne rocked in her seat. “Really, I’m second to Aragon?”

Narrowing her eyes, Maria shook her head. “It’s not a contest of who’s better. The numbers are a timeline. You’re all arranged in the order in which you met Henry.”

Freezing, Kat set her eyes on the table. She was being put in this pattern that didn’t even apply to her. She was going to mess it up in a matter of minutes when she revealed herself. Anne shot Kat a glance across the table, but the girl missed it. “Three, Jane Seymour.” There was no reaction on Jane’s face, but behind her eyes there was a flash of pain. Maria continued, “Four, Anna.” The German woman tipped an imaginary hat. “Five, Kat.”

Acting like she had expected it in the first place, Kat nodded not particularly caring about her number. She would be five for five minutes, and then it wouldn’t matter. “And Cathy, number six. Whenever we address you in code, it will be using these numbers,” Maria finished.

“Sounds good to me,” Cathy affirmed. “I think that’s the last thing we had planned for tonight. If anyone has anything else to share, please do.”

Nervously, Anne watched Kat. The teen was psyching herself up, preparing for her admittal. Opening her mouth, Kat’s opening words were drowned out by Anna’s much stronger voice. “Actually, I do.”

“Anna,” Bessie warned as if she knew what was about to happen.

Shutting her mouth, Kat let the other woman talk first. “I was delivering a suit to Henry this morning, checking up on him after the party. He had a terrible hangover and straight up told Bessie and me that he’s going to be stuck at his office from tomorrow night through the morning.”

Standing up as well, Aragon scratched her nails on the table. “Did he seem suspicious of you at all?”

“Not one bit,” Anna spoke proudly. “We’re safe, for now. It didn’t even seem like he remembered anything from last night, so Kat’s still in the perfect position to sneak in and get the evidence we need. We aren’t finished.”

Breath hitching, Kat watched her hands. Her cover wasn’t blown? She could still… she could still do her job? If there was any way she could make up for what she ruined… “I’m in,” Kat shot up out of her chair, making a split second decision.

Anne’s mouth opened in shock when she saw Kat’s determination return to her eyes. Kat wasn’t done yet. “That’s good, because we’ll need you now more than ever,” Anna addressed Kat.

“What exactly are you saying Anna?” Jane questioned.

Smirking, Anna cracked her knuckles. “I’m saying it’s time for some good old fashioned breaking and entering.”

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thedemidisaster @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom

[inyournightmares97]

My Youth (Chapter 10)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Angst, slow build, maybe some language.  (Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient. I mean this. Don’t. Seriously.) Also this is UNEDITED, I’ll edit after my exam tomorrow. 

Word Count: 9.8k (Fuck this one chapter is the size of a whole fic, kill me)

(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and previous chapters)

When Jinyoung opened his eyes in the morning, there was a large figure looming over his bed.

He jerked up in horror while the person standing above him slowly came into focus. It was Jackson Wang. The gym teacher was wearing a tracksuit and had a despicable grin on his handsome face.

“What the fuck, Jackson. Who let you in here?”

“Your mother,” Jackson replied with a cheerful grin. He tugged on Jinyoung’s blanket impatiently. “I was out for my morning run and your Mom invited me in for a cup of coffee. You look like you could use some exercise. Let’s go for a run.”

Jinyoung groaned and pulled his blanket back up. “No. Go away.”

“Are you mad at me about the other night? I probably should have kept my mouth shut about what happened that Christmas, right?” Jackson rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry. I get a little talkative when I drink. I’ll make it up to you! How about that run?”

Jinyoung sighed and sat up while rubbing his eyes sleepily. There was no way Jackson was going to let him go back to bed now. He blinked up at his childhood friend. “There are reporters hovering around everywhere. They might follow us.”

“That’s why we run, genius,” Jackson replied enthusiastically. “We’ll sneak out the back. Come on. Most of them are asleep in their cars, I already checked. It’s only six am.”

Six am? Fuck.

Fighting Jackson Wang required more energy than simply giving in to him. Jinyoung reluctantly yanked himself out of bed and changed into a pair of track pants. Maybe some exercise wasn’t a bad idea. He trudged downstairs expecting to see Yugyeom fast asleep on the couch again, but the couch was empty and his mother was alone in the living room.

“Where’s Yugyeom?” Jinyoung wondered.

Mrs. Park smiled. “Oh, good morning, dear. Yugyeom seems to have left early this morning. He probably had something to take care of at the police station. Jin-ah left without a word too. I checked the guest room and it’s empty. Even her belongings are gone.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “Huh. She must have been in a hurry to get back to her father.”

“It seems so. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“Maybe after my run. Jackson is waiting outside.”

“I’ll have breakfast ready for when you’re back!”

Jinyoung headed out the back door to meet Jackson and the two men jumped the neighbour's hedge and escaped halfway down the street without any reporters spotting them. Once they were safely out of sight and jogging down the adjacent street, Jinyoung felt himself relax. The early morning weather was cool and refreshing. Winter was fast approaching but the worst of the cold hadn’t set in yet. There was a certain crispness to the air.

“Don’t you have work today?” Jinyoung wondered out loud as they passed the elementary school. It was silent and deserted. It felt odd to see the usually bright building in the gloomy light of dawn.

“Yeah, but I don’t have any classes on Monday mornings so I just walk in about mid-morning and nobody really says anything,” Jackson explained cheerfully. He saw how Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at him and pouted. “What? It’s not like my classes require extensive planning. We pick a sport every month, toss a ball at the kids and make sure that they don’t claw each other’s eyes out. It’s not rocket science.”

Jinyoung frowned. “Yeah, but what if the kids get hurt?”

“Kids get hurt all the time, Jinyoung,” Jackson replied dismissively. “What seven-year old doesn’t have scabs all over his knees and elbows? We did plenty of dangerous stuff when we were that age too. Getting hurt and healing means you’re learning. As long as you haven’t damaged anything permanently, it’s fine.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Can’t remember the last time I hurt myself,” Jinyoung admitted quietly. “When I was a kid, I had so many cuts and bruises all over me that I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten all of them. My mom kept special Pokemon bandaids in the kitchen drawer to placate me. How did we keep managing to hurt ourselves so much? ”

“To be fair, most of your bruises were probably caused by me,” Jackson said with a grin.

“They probably were, you shit. You kept trying to fight me.”

“Okay, but let’s be honest. Do you remember after you climbed the oak tree and your hands were scratched up? Miss First Grade literally fed you lunch for two weeks after that. I was there. I saw it happen.”

Jinyoung couldn’t help it; he grinned and turned to his friend.

“Why do you even remember that?”

Jackson cleared his throat. “I may have been jealous.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s a small town, man, we didn’t have that many girls around! You crush on whoever’s in front of you. Aeri didn’t move here until middle school, remember?”

Jinyoung frowned. “Huh.”

Jackson laughed and playfully reached out to punch Jinyoung on the shoulder. “Dude! Don’t tell me you’re mad because I had a crush on your girl when I was seven! You had plenty of chances to tell her about your feelings but you could never do it. It’s nobody’s fault but yours.”

Jinyoung felt his heart drop. “I guess that’s true.”

“But you had dreams to chase,” Jackson pointed out with a reassuring smile. “We can’t have everything, right? Life is full of choices, man. We all struggle to let go of whatever we we gave up. Every choice you make has a price.”

Jinyoung looked at Jackson for a long moment. He had never bothered to ask what choices Jackson had made that he might have regretted. He had never bothered to ask anyone, really. Perhaps that was the problem. Perhaps Jinyoung was too wrapped up in himself to understand that everyone had their share of problems.

Everyone has something they’re not satisfied with.

If Jinyoung had realized that before, he could have helped you ten years ago.

“What did you give up?” Jinyoung asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“What did you give up, Jackson? What choices did you make?”

Jackson’s smile dropped. He stopped running and leaned against the railing of the bridge to catch his breath. When he looked up again, there was a more serious expression on his face.

“Promise you won’t tell Aeri.”

“Of course.”

“I had a friend who asked me to come join the gym he was setting up as a trainer. It’s far away; a city that takes at least five hours to get to by train but it was amazing money. I was going to go and work there for a year to help save up when Aeri suddenly sprung on me that she was pregnant.”

Jinyoung folded his arms across his chest. “Oh.”

“She was so excited about having the kid and raising it together, I just couldn’t tell her I was thinking about leaving for work. I turned it down.”

“Was the job at the gym something you really wanted to do?”

Jackson laughed humorlessly. “It’s not a question of whether I wanted to do it. Raising a kid is expensive. I don’t earn that much at the school. Aeri’s coffee shop hasn’t made proper profit in a while. She can’t let go of it because her father used to run it before he died.”

Jinyoung swallowed. He didn’t know what to say. He had never struggled to earn money but he supposed it was foolish to assume that Jackson had never been in a few tight spots. He suddenly felt small. Next to the pressure of having to make enough money to support a newborn baby, Jinyoung’s own problems suddenly felt selfish.

He simply cleared his throat and nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

Jackson smiled. “What for? I’d rather stay here to raise my baby girl anyway.”

“Is it that great?” Jinyoung wondered.

“Family? It’s awesome. You should try it sometime,” Jackson said as he began to resume jogging down the bridge. He gave Jinyoung a cheeky grin. “I can think of a first grade teacher who might be up to the task.”

Jinyoung flushed. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You could find a million reasons to hold back, Jinyoung, but you only need one solid reason to keep going. Most of the time that reason is the people that love you.”

“Is that enough? What if it doesn’t work?”

Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m no expert on how to live life. We all just do whatever we think will make us as happy as possible. There’s no point trying to find some secret formula. Noody can ever predict how things will turn out. Come on. I’ll race you to that lamp post!”

As Park Jinyoung struggled to keep up with Jackson’s fast pace and the small streets and modest front lawns passed by him, he had a sinking realization.

The day the world stops making sense to you is the day you stop being a child.

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

Jackson Wang’s apartment was a mess, but something about it was filled with life. Jinyoung smiled at the sight of the half-built baby cradle right in the middle of the living room and the sofa piled with all sorts of baby things; feeding bottles, blankets and little baby outfits still in their wrappers. There was nowhere to even sit.  

“Sorry about all the mess. You can just shove stuff aside to make space,” Jackson said lightly as he headed into the kitchen. “We’re trying to prepare for the baby so we’re buying stuff and fixing up the nursery whenever we can.”

“A tiny baby needs all these things?” Jinyoung wondered.

“I know, right? It’s insane.” Jackson replied with a sigh. He reached onto the shelves to grab some protein powder and plugged in a blender. “Still, the little baby shoes are fucking adorable. I hold them in my hand and stare at them whenever I feel like giving up. It lifts my mood instantly.”

Jinyoung picked up a pair of baby shoes lying on the armchair and grinned. They still had the tags on them but the soft little things were smaller than his palm and an adorable shade of light purple. He couldn’t even picture how tiny a foot would have to be to fit into it. Just as he was about to put them down the bedroom door opened and Aeri stepped out. Her large baby bump preceded her and she had one hand on her back to steady herself.

“Jackson!” she called out tiredly. “Jackson, are you back from your run-oh. Jinyoung? Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Jinyoung smiled at her awkwardly. “Uh, hi, Aeri. Sorry for intruding-”

“No worries, I’m sure my husband dragged you up here against your will anyway,” Aeri reassured him with a smile. She looked tired but her skin was glowing. She spotted the little baby boots in Jinyoung’s hands and chuckled. “Oh god, all you men are the same. Jackson stares at those little things like they contain the mysteries of the world sometimes.”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “They’re cute. Her feet must be so tiny.”

“They don’t feel so tiny when they’re kicking from the inside. Sorry about the mess, though, you can just shove things aside to make space,” Aeri reassured him before half-waddling over to the kitchen. Jinyoung could see the married couple over the breakfast bar; Aeri went over and gave Jackson a side-hug as he added ingredients to the blender.

“Baby, isn’t there any coffee?” Aeri asked him hopefully.

Jackson frowned at her. “No. You promised you wouldn’t drink any more coffee once you reached your seventh month.”

“There’s a few days left for that still-”

“Nope. No coffee. You can have some of the protein shake I’m making for Jinyoung and me. Go sit down and I’ll bring you some breakfast,” he told her firmly. Aeri pouted. She couldn’t exactly stand behind Jackson because of her baby bump but she snaked one arm around his waist teasingly.

“But baby, the doctor said a small cup every day would be fine-”

“And we both know you’re going to have a cup as soon as you get to the coffee shop, whether you have one here or not. Don’t play games with me. I’m not drinking any coffee either so you can stop trying to persuade me.”

“But it’ll be fine…” Aeri whined.

Jinyoung bit his lip and turned away from the couple, pretending to look at more of the baby shoes. He felt like he was intruding on something extremely private and intimate. Jackson and Aeri were so happy here. They had problems but they got through it together. Their small family, the baby things in the living room and the warm feeling of waking up to someone who wanted to be with you.

For the first time, Jinyoung felt jealousy stir in his stomach.

He wanted this. He wanted a little apartment that was filled with family. He wanted to build a little cradle for the baby and go shopping for baby shoes. He wanted to have stupid arguments over how much coffee should be drunk and whose turn it was to do the dishes. Jinyoung wanted the warmth that he felt in this place, he wanted the comfort and the coziness. He wanted to wake up with someone next to him in bed and have someone to complain about his day to.

Jinyoung wanted all of it and he wanted it with you.

He realized that if he hadn’t spent so much time thinking about himself, and distancing himself from the people that he cared about, and dedicating himself to his ambition… he might have had it by now. He might have had you.

Perhaps, if he had thought a little more about you and not so much about himself then he would have been a happier man.

“Jinyoung! Come taste this shake, it’s amazing!” Jackson called out to him happily. Jinyoung followed him into the kitchen and gratefully accepted the glass of thick liquid that Jackson gave him. Aeri was giving her husband a dirty look but took her own glass as well. “I added banana to it. It’s great for your health, all the ingredients are organic.”

Jinyoung took a sip and winced. “Oh.”

“You like it?”

Aeri sighed. “He looks like he wants to cry. Nobody likes this shake, Jackson.”

Jackson pouted. “But it’s good for you!”

“Okay. I’m going to take this back to bed and you’d better hope that the smell doesn’t make me puke all over your sheets, Jackson Wang,” Aeri scolded him as she grabbed her glass. She turned and smiled at Jinyoung brightly. “It was nice to see you, Jinyoung. You should have dinner with us sometime, it would be great to catch up!”

Jinyoung nodded. “That sounds great.”

Aeri disappeared into the bedroom and Jinyoung and Jackson were left in the kitchen. Jackson picked up his glass and downed half of it in one go before smacking his lips happily. “Ah, this was great. You have no idea how much energy these give you. Especially considering that I need to come back early tonight and finish fixing that fucking cradle.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“Thanks, man. I think I can manage, though. We haven’t bought even half the stuff we need for the nursery. Aeri has a lot of plans but I’m waiting for my next paycheck to come in.”

Jinyoung bit his lip and glanced towards the half-fixed cradle. Then he looked at his friend. “Jackson. You know that if you ever need money or something like that, you just have to say the word, right? We can figure something out.”

Jackson glanced at Jinyoung uncomfortably. “That’s nice of you, man, but Aeri would kill me if I took money from you.”

“What if you did some work for me?”

“Work?”

“Yeah. I have some reporters hanging around my front door that want an interview and it might be nice to have a PR Manager until this whole media storm blows over. You just have to act like a dick whenever they ask me any weird questions and tell them to shut up so that I don’t have to answer them.”

Jackson grinned. “I do enjoy telling people to shut up.”

“Great.”

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

When Jinyoung got back home, there was an unexpected guest waiting for him.

Mr. Cha from down the street was in the living room enjoying a cup of tea and he brightened up at the sight of Jinyoung. The older man gestured for Jinyoung to join him eagerly.  “Ah, Jinyoung! It’s so nice to see you up and about. Went for a morning jog, eh?”

Jinyoung nodded politely. “Ah, yes…”

“I’m sorry for barging in on you and your mother so early in the morning. I was hoping I could trouble you for some advice,” the old man admitted hesitantly. “You wouldn’t be able to spare a few minutes for me, would you? I would be really grateful.”

“Of course, Mr. Cha. What sort of advice?”

The old man looked a little embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, you turned out to be right about the little investment plan I told you about at your mother’s birthday party. The insider trading? My friend told me how illegal it was. Truth is, I have a little bit of money set aside after all my retirement expenses and I really want to find a good way to invest it.”

Jinyoung blinked and sat down across from the older man carefully. “Of course. There are lots of perfectly legal ways to invest your money and get good returns, Mr. Cha.”

“I was hoping you could give me a little advice.”

“It depends on what you want to do with the money,” Jinyoung explained patiently. “There are long terms investments; you’d get guaranteed returns at a steady rate but you wouldn’t be able to withdraw the money whenever you pleased, making it illiquid. On the contrary, there are smaller short-term ways to invest. Those are a little risky; you might get excellent returns but you could also end up losing money.”

Mr. Cha stared at him. “Did you just say liquid?”

Jinyoung chuckled. “Liquidity is how easily you can convert the investment back into cash. If you bought a house then it might take you a few months to sell it and get the money, so it’s not very liquid. If you invest in the share market, you can sell the shares any time you wish and get cash in your hands instantly.”

“Ah, see, I don’t know about all those things. I just put my money in the bank.”

“That’s sometimes a good idea and sometimes not. If you leave your money in the bank for a number of years and inflation is higher than the interest rate your deposit is earning then you’re losing money essentially,” Jinyoung explained. “Here; let me get a piece of paper and I’ll explain it to you. If over a period of ten years the value of the currency decreases by ten per cent but the rate of interest you’re earning in the back is only five per cent then-”

Mr. Cha cleared his throat and cut him off. “Son, I appreciate this but I don’t think I can take the math lesson at this age. My brain isn’t what it used to be, but I really want to set the money aside for my granddaughter’s college fund. Could you… do that for me? Handle the investment?

“You want me to do it for you?”

“If you don’t mind. I wouldn’t ask you if I thought you were too busy right now, but uh,” Mr. Cha rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I’m sure the money doesn’t mean much to a rich young man like you, but you could charge a percentage as your fees and handle the investment on my behalf, couldn’t you? I trust you’ll put it in a safe place. I’m worried my muddled old brain will make mistakes. I can barely remember where the coffee cups are most mornings.”

Jinyoung stared at the old man in surprise. Nobody had ever asked him to handle their personal finances before. It seemed an odd request; but a perfectly reasonable one considering the older man wasn’t at an age where he could really begin to learn about finance.

Also, the fact that the old man was so willing to trust him somehow filled Jinyoung with a sense of warmth. He couldn’t help but smile.

“I can find you a good place to invest it, Mr. Cha, you don’t need to pay me anything.”

“No, no. If you’re good at something then you should never do it for free. Besides. What if you run off with my money, eh? I’m not that stupid,” the old man joked with a grin. “If I pay you then you’re technically my employee, and I can sue you if you run away.”

Jinyoung chuckled. “Agent, Mr. Cha. I’d be your agent authorized to handle some of your money, not really  your employee.”

“You call yourself what you like, young man,” he replied. Mr. Cha leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell the other neighbours, though. They’d all come running to ask you for investment advice and you wouldn’t have a moment’s peace in this town. They’re greedy dogs, the lot of them. Especially that Mr. Kang.”

“It’ll be our little secret,” Jinyoung promised with a smile.  

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

Mondays were always unbearably long.

Most of the children were cranky and even after you managed to get rid of them at 3 pm, there was a huge pile of homework on your desk waiting to be corrected. There was no way you could finish marking the homework and planning your lessons for tomorrow unless you stayed back late. You gathered your belongings and went to sit in the teacher’s lounge. At least there, you could get a cup of coffee and hopefully a similarly disgruntled teacher to keep you company.

You chatted with Mrs. Kang about her marital problems while you skimmed through the addition sums the students had turned in. It had been hard to sleep; you’d spent all night thinking about Lee Jinah and whether she had Jinyoung had talked about anything else.

Had they decided to get married? Had she managed to convince Jinyoung overnight? Perhaps they had connected and realized how much both of them wanted the same life? All sorts of scenarios flashed through your mind and the numbers on the page in front of you danced. What if he really leaves? If he gets married and disappears from my life once more?

Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps someone like Jinyoung was only meant to be a passing cloud for you.

You weren’t sure.

You wanted Jinyoung to be happy. You wanted him to stay, but more importantly you wanted him to want to stay and that was something beyond your control. You couldn’t influence his mind or his decisions. To do so would be dangerous.  Jinyoung would have to make his mind up for himself.

Why was it still so agonizing?

Why did you still hope so much that he would choose to stay?  

It was around half past four when you received a phone call.

“Hello?” you answered the unknown number casually.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling from the local hospital. Mr. Park Jinyoung was brought into the hospital via an ambulance a little while ago; he asked us to contact you instead of his registered emergency contact number. Would you be able to come down to the hospital-”

You felt your heart sink into your chest. “What? An ambulance? Why would he be- what happened?” you demanded. You felt dizzy and light-headed as you jumped to your feet. Oh god. Not a hospital. Not Jinyoung, no, no, no. “Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?”

“There’s no serious danger although he appears to have been in some sort of an accident. There are bruises and suspected broken bones. We’re sending him in for an x-ray now.”

You felt faint. “I-I’m on my way.”

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

“Ah, yes; Room 303 on the third floor-”

You were sprinting your way through the hospital, heartbeat racing. You didn’t like hospitals. You hated them in fact. You had lost both of your parents in hospitals and had sincerely hoped that you wouldn’t have to come to one again for a very long time. Especially not in terrifying circumstances like this.

Fuck, why aren’t the room numbers in fucking order? You felt like you had passed by Room 302 a hundred times but you couldn’t find Room 303. You spun around in a wild panic until you finally spotted it all the way at the end of the corridor. You paused with your fingers on the handle and took a deep, calming breath. Part of you was terrified of what you would find on the other side but you could handle it. You would handle it.

It’s fine. The nurse on the phone said there was no serious danger. It’s fine.

Why were you still panicking?

You were just about to push the door open and enter the room when you heard it; a sound that you hadn’t heard in years. It sent a sudden warmth down your spine and your fingers on the handle went limp.

Park Jinyoung’s laughter.

Not his forced and reserved smile. Not the cunning little smirk he gave you when he was pleased with himself or the small chuckle he let out when he was embarrassed or found something cute. This was laughter of the unrestrained variety. Jinyoung’s real laugh was deep and loud, but it was also warm and intimate. Jinyoung’s laugh was honest.

It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world and you hadn’t heard it in a decade.

You swallowed and carefully entered the room.

Jinyoung was lying on one of the many beds. The curtains were drawn around the surrounding cots but Jinyoung’s curtains were kept open. His arm was wrapped in a cast and sitting next to the bed was the  familiar mushroom-hair head that unmistakably belonged to Ki-woo. Ki-woo said something cheerfully and Jinyoung laughed again; this time you saw the way the corners of his eyes crinkled handsomely and his lips spread across his face.

“Hi,” you greeted the oblivious pair.

Jinyoung’s eyes brightened as soon as he saw you. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Ki-woo had turned around and run up to you delightedly. “Miss! Miss, I brought Jinyoung-ahjussi here because he fell and I told the nurses to call you!”

You forced a smile down at Kiwoo. “Kiwoo, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you have gone home after school?”

Kiwoo hesitated. “I… I was playing with Jinyoung-ahjussi.”

“Can you wait outside for a few minutes, please? Just sit on one of the chairs in the corridor outside and I’ll come and get you as soon as I’m done talking to Jinyoung, okay?” you asked. It was getting hard for you to maintain your composure and you didn’t want the small boy to see you lose your cool. Kiwoo looked disappointed but he nodded and slouched out of the room.

Jinyoung blinked.

“Why did you send him out-”

“What the fuck happened? What’s going on?” you demanded.

Jinyoung laughed nervously and gestured to his wrapped up arm; there was also a white bandage taped to his chin. “Ah, yeah. The doctor just left. It’s a fractured wrist and a couple of minor bruises, no big deal. They said I could leave as soon as someone came to pick me up.”

“But how?”

Jinyoung rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you want the long story or the short story?” he wondered. Upon seeing  your furious glare he cleared his throat. “Okay. I’ll give you the short story. I came by the school at around 3 pm to meet you but I ended up running into Kiwoo instead. We were playing around and, I, uh, I tried to climb the oak tree and I fell.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“You did what?”

“Ki-woo kept making fun of me. He said I was old and that I probably couldn’t do it anymore and hey, I work out pretty often so I thought it wouldn’t be hard to defend my title as King of the Playground,” Jinyoung explained. His smile slowly turned into a grimace. “Anyway, the branch cracked under me and I fell.”

“That is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard anyone say,” you snapped. You could feel the anger boiling in your stomach and making your head throb. All this had been because Park Jinyoung wanted to climb a fucking tree? “What sort of fully grown adult climbs a fucking tree to challenge a 7-year old? Are you out of your fucking mind, Park Jinyoung? Do you have any idea what it’s like to get a call from the hospital and have them tell you someone you love has just been brought there in an ambulance? Because I do and it’s the shittiest fucking feeling in the world so I swear to god, you need to come up with a better reason for having put me through that again!”

Jinyoung stared at you, eyes wide. The smile had disappeared from his face.

“I… I’m sorry.”

You glared at him. “No, you’re not. You’re a selfish, fucking idiot.”

Jinyoung opened his mouth to speak but before he could, a nurse came running over to you looking agitated. “Uh ma’am, I’m sorry but you can’t yell like that in here! Please behave like adults and maintain silence!”

You glared at her. “Isn’t there a doctor around here?”

“I can get one for you in a few minutes, ma’am, but you have to keep quiet.”

The nurse hurried away leaving you alone with Jinyoung again. Your anger had slowly melted and you saw that the happiness on Jinyoung’s face had disappeared. He looked guilty and he stretched his uninjured arm out towards you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist gently.

“Hey. Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you would freak out, I told them to call you because I was worried my Mom would lose her mind.”

You frowned. “Yeah, she would. Thank god you didn’t call her.”

“Were you scared?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You bit your lip and nodded, ducking your head to blink back your tears. You had never been good with hospitals and seeing Jinyoung in one was still making your head spin. But there was no real danger and you forced yourself to calm down.

“It’s fine,” you admitted. You looked at him and let out a dry chuckle. “What the hell was going through your head, Jinyoung?”

“I… I don’t know. I was just having fun and I guess I forgot that I weight about three times what I did when I was seven,” he admitted nervously. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“It’s the most stupid, spontaneous thing I’ve done in years and I feel great.”

Jinyoung’s eyes were shining and you stared at him quietly. There was something different about him now. This wasn’t the same Park Jinyoung that had returned from Seoul looking like his life was about to end. He looked alive now, he looked happy. There was a spark in his eyes that you hadn’t seen since he’d come back here. There was a spark in his eyes that you hadn’t seen since high school, when he finally got accepted to the university of his dreams.

Why?

Is it because he’d decided to go back to Seoul with Jinah? Is he happy because he can finally go back to the life he wants?

You felt sick.

“I’m gonna go check on Ki-woo before the doctor gets here,” you mumbled.

Jinyoung nodded and bit his lip. “Hey. Don’t get mad at him. He’s a great kid. He panicked a little bit when I fell but he managed to run to the convenience store across the street and use the phone to call me an ambulance. That’s some amazing level-headedness for a kid his age.”

“Don’t worry. I know who the idiot here is and it’s not Ki-woo.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Okay.”

You went outside and found Kiwoo sitting silently on one of the waiting room chairs, dangling his legs off the seat. You approached him and sat next to him with a smile. “Hey, Ki-woo. Are you doing okay?”

Ki-woo nodded and bit his lip. “Jinyoung-ahjussi is going to be okay, right?”

“I haven’t talked to a Doctor yet but I’m sure he will be.”

“Are you mad, Miss?”

You smiled. “Not at you. You did really well today, Ki-woo. I’m glad you remembered how to call an ambulance when someone is hurt. You were really responsible and I’m very proud of you,” you reassured him gently. Kiwoo’s cheeks flushed and you could tell that he enjoyed the praise. He smiled for a moment and then he looked up at you with big, worried eyes.

“Are you mad at Jinyoung-ahjussi?”

“A little bit. Jinyoung-ahjussi didn’t behave very well, did he? He knew that he shouldn’t have climbed the tree.”

“But I pushed him to do it! It wasn’t his fault!”

“It was definitely his own fault,” you replied firmly. “He’s older than you and he should have known better. You don’t need to lie and cover for him, Ki-woo. Once I talk to a doctor then we can all go home today, okay? You must be very tired. Have you had anything to eat?”

Ki-woo shook his head.

You sighed and dug into your purse for some change. “Here. Go get yourself a snack from the vending machine and I’ll be back after talking to the doctor.”

Ki-woo beamed. “Can I have chocolate?”

“Yes, you can have chocolate.”

“Awesome!”

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

The bus ride home was quiet and awkward. Once you dropped Ki-woo off at the foster home and said goodbye, you and Jinyoung sat next to each other silently as the streets passed. You were only a few stops away from your apartment when Jinyoung suddenly turned to you.

“Can I crash at your place tonight?”

You stared at him. “Why?”

“Because my Mom obviously doesn’t know anything about this and considering how late it is, I don’t really want to walk into my house with a cast on my arm and bruises on my face,” Jinyoung admitted reluctantly. “She’s going to freak out if I tell her that I just came from the hospital. I’ll call her and explain the whole tree incident tomorrow morning.”

You bit your lip. “Fine.”

“You’re still mad at me, huh?”

“I’m trying not to be,” you replied firmly. You turned and looked at Jinyoung. Despite the cast on his arm and the various bruises on his face, his eyes were still sparkling. He looked happy. You felt something stir uncomfortably in your stomach. “Jinyoung. What happened to you? You’re acting weird.”

“Me?” he asked innocently.

“Yeah, you. Did you hit your head too hard? Do we need to go back to the hospital?”

Jinyoung smiled. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just having fun. Is a guy not even allowed to have fun anymore? Do you know that I can’t even remember the last time I injured myself like this? Little injuries like this stops happening to you as an adult because you stop doing stupid things for the heck of it. I don’t remember the last time I did something without thinking about what purpose it serves.”

“There are ways to have fun without breaking your wrist.”

“Yeah, but I just wanted to climb that tree one more time,” Jinyoung admitted. He nudged you eagerly with a childish grin. “Hey. Did you know that if you reach the point of the tree where I carved my name in the first time, you can see directly into the teacher’s lounge? I saw you sitting in there today. I realized that’s how I got caught when we were six; Mrs. Lee must have looked out of the window and seen me right on top of the tree.”

“Fascinating,” you mumbled.

Jinyoung frowned. “Wow, you’re really mad.”

“Can we not talk about your climbing that tree? It’s giving me anxiety just thinking about it.”

“Okay.” Jinyoung bit his lip and glanced at you. “Let’s talk about something else. What’s the deal with Ki-woo? What’s his story?”

“Ki-woo?”

“Yeah, Ki-woo, the kid who treats me like I’m a super-hero. Why is he at the foster care home?”

Ki-woo’s story had been told to you by one of the social workers who came to drop him off at school and it broke your heart. “His mother is a drug addict,” you explained with a sigh. “He doesn’t have a father. She loves him a lot but she was declared unfit to be a mother and sent to a rehabilitation center two towns over when Ki-woo was four. He’s been in foster care ever since.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Oh.”

“He would have gotten adopted by now, being the sweet little kid he is, but his mother won’t hand over the adoption rights because she’s a mess but she won’t let go of him. He has to visit her twice a month, so they can’t let a family that lives too far away take him. That means he’s stuck at the foster home either until his mother recovers or until he turns 18.”

“That’s horrible,” Jinyoung mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s what life does to some people. Ki-woo really deals with it well,” you sighed.

“I guess sometimes we don’t realize how lucky we are.”

You nodded silently. You didn’t know what to say. Seeing kids like Ki-woo reminded you that you had a lot to be grateful for and that there was some innocence and good left in this world. He was an adorable child and you could tell from Jinyoung’s expression that he felt the same way. “It’s nice that you played with him,” you told Jinyoung quietly. “He doesn’t have a lot of friends.”

Jinyoung nodded. “He’s great.”

“He is.”

Jinyoung let out a soft, contented sigh and turned to face the window. His eyes were shining as he watched the buildings pass by. His soft lips were twisted into a gentle smile. There was something relaxed and carefree about Jinyoung. You couldn’t understand it. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to prod him further.

“Jinyoung, do you-”

“Have you ever felt like the fog just suddenly cleared out of your life?” Jinyoung asked suddenly. He turned to you. “Like… everything was just muddled and you didn’t really know which way to go so you kept going in circles but suddenly everything cleared and you can see to the end of the road?”

You swallowed. “Uh, no.”

“I feel like that right now. I don’t know what triggered it,” Jinyoung explained. His voice was rising excitedly. “But then again, nothing ever triggers these things. It just happens, you know? Something tips you over and suddenly you get this new clarity. Like you know what you want. I think I know what I want. For the first time, I feel like I can see how my life is going to go over the next couple of years and I want it to go that way.”

“O-oh.”

“It feels great.”

You forced a smile at him. Don’t know what triggered it? Perhaps Jinyoung didn’t know what triggered it but you had no doubts. It had been Jin-ah and her marriage proposal. Her arrival had cleared a new path in Jinyoung’s life. He had finally found a way to go back to Seoul and do what he loved to do best. He had found a way back out of this stifling town and to the life of luxury he craved.

You would have been delighted too.

“That’s great,” you whispered. “If that’s true then I’m really happy for you, Jinyoung.”

“Hey; it’s our stop!”

You hadn’t noticed that the bus had stopped. Both of you had to hurry to get off in time and Jinyoung chuckled when he saw how flushed you looked. “Come on, let’s go. Have you had dinner? What are we going to have for dinner?”

“I… I don’t know. I probably have some groceries. I can cook.”

Jinyoung grinned and threw his uninjured arm around your shoulder. “Great, I love your cooking.”

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

Jinyoung wouldn’t stop talking the entire time you were in the kitchen. He was largely useless with his cast but he climbed up onto the kitchen counter and dangled his legs off it while he watched you chop vegetables. You couldn’t even remember why he was here and why didn’t just go to his own home, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to leave.

“Do you like having me around?” Jinyoung wondered.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you chopped the onions. “What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I like having you around.”

“I’m kind of a pain sometimes, though, right?” he asked doubtfully. He had picked up an apple from your fruit basket with his uninjured hand and took a huge bite out of it. “Like, I’ve been depending on you a lot. Emotionally, I mean. That doesn’t annoy you?”

You put your knife down and frowned. “Did you wash that?”

Jinyoung blinked at the apple. “No.”

“That is so dirty, Jinyoung.”

“So wash it for me. I’m injured,” he pouted, handing the apple to you. You sighed and took it from him. Jinyoung’s eyes followed you around the kitchen as you washed it. “You’re not answering my question. I’ve been depending on you a lot these days. Am I being too needy? I feel like this is a one-way street.”

You frowned. “It’s not.”

“It kind of is, though. You never tell me anything.”

“What have I not told you?”

“A lot of things,” Jinyoung replied firmly as you returned the washed apple to him. “You didn’t tell me about the money for your mother’s hospital bills, you didn’t tell me about wanted to go to medical school. I used to think that I was this amazing friend to you but now I realize that I mostly just leech off you and give you nothing in return. Emotionally,” he added before you could open your mouth. “I’m not talking about the money. Anyone would have given you the money.”

You didn’t know what to say. You took a deep breath and resumed cutting the vegetables. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jinyoung. It really sucks that you left for a decade but I guess I don’t really need anyone to emotionally depend on right now.”

Jinyoung was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“So it doesn’t make much of a difference to you whether I’m around or not?” he asked. “You don’t really care if I stay here or I leave, is that it?”

Your shoulders stiffened. Was this it? Was he preparing to tell you that he was going to marry Jin-ah and go back to Seoul? You took a deep breath. You hated hearing that Jinyoung was thinking about leaving and you hated listening to him talk about things like this. But he had been so happy all day. He had been shining and laughing and all that was because he was finally thinking about going back to Seoul and working for the Lees, right?

How could you rain on his parade because of your stupid feelings?

“I guess it doesn’t matter that much,” you muttered.

Jinyoung jumped down from the counter and stepped closer to you. “You know why I’m asking, right? I’m trying to make up my mind as to whether I should accept Jin-ah’s proposal.”

You bit your lip. “Right.”

“Honestly, there’s nothing really stopping me from taking it up, you know? Jin-ah’s ready to marry me in a heartbeat. All her other options are old men. And her father loves me. He would hand me his entire company in a second. I could even take my parents to Seoul with me. So I mean, honestly… from my perspective right now there seem to be more reasons to leave than to stay.”

“Right,” you whispered. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. Right, of course, he’s going to leave, why would anybody in their right mind stay in a place like this with someone like me when he could be living the life of luxury with Lee Jinah-

“Can you think of a reason I should stay?” Jinyoung pressed. He was standing close behind you now and you could feel him hovering over your shoulder. You kept your eyes on the onions; surely the tears welling up in your eyes were due to the onion juice. Jinyoung’s warm hand landed on your shoulder. “Any reason? Maybe somebody who might be hurt if I decided to leave?”

You were trembling.

“I-I don’t know. If you want to marry Jin-ah then you should marry her, why are you worried about other people?” you muttered.  

“Because sometimes people don’t always tell you everything.”

“Then that’s their problem.”

“Is it?”

You nodded. Jinyoung was so close behind you that you could hear him breathing. His free hand came up and gently tugged on a lock of your hair that had escaped. Fuck. He was far too close and your heartbeat was thudding.

“So if you can’t think of anyone who needs me,” Jinyoung whispered, his hot breath tickling your neck. “Or who wants me around or would miss me… then I should just call Jin-ah right now and tell her to go ahead with the engagement. Shouldn’t I?”

Your mind felt numb. “Y-yeah.”

“Are you sure?” you heard a crinkling of paper behind you as Jinyoung shoved his hand into his pocket. “Because Jinah left me her number before she went back to Seoul. I was supposed to call her as soon as I made up my mind. I could just call her and tell her to go ahead and announce the engagement, right?”

“You could.”

“Can I borrow your phone?”

You flinched. “Now?”

“Yeah. I don’t see what the point is in delaying something like this. I’ll call her now.”

“I-It’s on the dining table in my purse.”

You heard Jinyoung’s footsteps move away from you and towards the dining table. You sneaked a glance at him; he really had a piece of paper in his hand and was digging through your purse for your cell phone. You stared at him as he finally found it and opened it with a smile, starting to enter the number from the paper into the dialpad.

Your heart clenched.

Fuck, this is really happening. He came here and made me fall in love with him again and now he’s just leaving like it never happened. Your grip on the knife tightened. You wanted to run to Jinyoung and tell him not to call that girl, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him that you needed him to stay here with you. But he looked so happy. How could you take that away from him? How could you be responsible for asking him to give up his dreams? What sort of horrible person would do that?

No. No, you couldn’t.

Sometimes truly loving someone meant doing what made them happy, even if it hurt you.

Jinyoung lifted the phone to his ear, his eyes darting towards you briefly. You watched as he waited for it to ring and then his expression brightened.

“Hello? Jinah, is that-”

A searing pain shot through your finger.

Shit. You had just sliced the length of your index finger and blood was seeping out onto the cutting board. You gasped at the sight of it. Feeling dizzy, you dropped the knife on the floor and ran to the bathroom. Ignoring Jinyoung, you slammed the door shut behind you and stuck your finger under the running tap water. The blood wouldn’t stop; you grabbed a wad of toilet paper and pressed it against the cut to stop the flow.

Oh god, I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.

You let go of the toilet paper and leaned against the sink. Sobs were racking your chest. It felt like someone had wrenched out your heart and thrown it on the ground in front of you. Losing Jinyoung once had been painful enough but losing him the second time was unbearable. Why had you let yourself fall in love with a man like him? He would never want to stay with you, his eyes would always be on some bigger prize.

You would never be enough for Park Jinyoung.

There was a banging on the door. “Hey! Are you okay? Open up!” Jinyoung insisted. His voice sounded panicked but there was nothing you could do. The reality of your situation had sunk in too deep. You felt so pathetic. You felt small and worthless and alone.

Fuck, fuck, why can’t I stop crying?

Jinyoung grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. He froze in his tracks when he saw you; leaning against the sink with one hand bleeding and your entire body shaking from the sobs. Within seconds, Jinyoung had pulled you to his chest and wrapped his uninjured arm around you tightly. His hand stroked you back hurriedly.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whipered hurriedly. He held you to his chest tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Listen to me. It’s fine. I’m not calling Jin-ah. Okay? I never was. Look; I don’t even have her number, this is my bus ticket from earlier, I was just trying to get to you. Fuck. Fuck, why do you do this to yourself?”

You didn’t know what to say. You fisted your hands into Jinyoung’s shirt and sobbed harder against his shoulder. Jinyoung sighed and kissed your hair again.

“God. Is it that hard? Is it really that hard for you to say those words to me? Because that’s all I want from you, love. I want you to stay with me, Jinyoung. Can you just say that to me? Please?” he begged. “Can you just tell me honestly whether you want me?”

“B-but… you-you want to go back-”

Jinyoung stepped back and grabbed your chin to make you look at him. When he stared at you, his eyes were red and his lips were pressed together in a tight line. His expression scared you.

“Fuck that. Fuck what I want. I’m a grown man, I can figure that out for myself. I need to know what you want. For once in your fucking life I want you to not give a fuck about my happiness and tell me, in the most selfish way you can, that you want me to stay. Tell me that you need me. Say it.”

“I-I can’t-”

“Say it, or I’m leaving and I won’t pretend this time,” he snapped. His eyes were filled with anger. “Say it so help me god, I will take the next fucking train back to Seoul and never come back here. Do you want me to do that?”

“N-no,” you whispered, trembling. I don’t want to hold you back, I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy-

Jinyoung dropped his hand. He looked broken. “Is that it? You’re not going to say it?”

“I-”

“Fuck this, I’m leaving.”

No. No, Not again. Something inside of you lost control and you grabbed Jinyoung’s shirt, pulling him back before he could turn away from you. You threw your arms around him.  You couldn’t fight this anymore. It was eating you alive from inside and there was only so much you could take before you cracked.

“Don’t go,” you sobbed. “No, don’t go, please don’t go.”

Jinyoung relaxed. “Really? Are you sure?”

You nodded against his chest as you felt a terrible weight lift off your shoulders. You couldn’t bear to see Jinyoung walk away from you. You couldn’t lose him again and spend the rest of your life alone, knowing that this time it was your fault. You couldn’t lose him a second time. You couldn’t.

“I’m sure,” you choked out. “Stay. Please.”

“I’m staying because you want me to,” Jinyoung reminded you softly. His arms wrapped around you again and he gently caressed your back. His pressed his face into your neck and you could feel his own tears against your skin. “Remember that. I’m staying because you want me to stay. I-I’m staying because you want me. You know that, right? You need me.”

You nodded silently. “Yeah.”

“Say it again.”

“I need you,” you whispered.

Park Jinyoung took a deep breath and wrapped his arm around you tightly as he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to let go. He had to have you in his arms and feel the one thing that he realized he had been craving ever since the moment he came back to this small town. He didn’t want to be a charity case. He didn’t want you to look at him the way you looked at something that you took pity on. He didn’t want to be something you took care of because you were simply that kind.

He wanted you to need him as much as he needed you.

And for the first time, Jinyoung felt like he had a place in your pure heart.

He doubted that any achievement in his life would ever top this one.   

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

It was difficult to wrap up your finger considering that you only possessed one working hand each, but you managed to make it stop bleeding and wrap it up tightly. Jinyoung kneeled in front of you as you sat on the couch and secured the bandage around your finger.

“I feel like I should make a joke about us both hurting ourselves,” Jinyoung muttered. “But it’s not really coming to me right now.”

You nodded, letting out a small hiccup. “Oh.”

Jinyoung looked up at you. It had taken a while to calm your sobbing and even now that it was over, you kept hiccuping. It was adorable and Jinyoung’s eyes sparkled as he stared into your red eyes. He brushed his thumb over your flushed cheek. “Hey. Do you want some water?”

You shook your head. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded silently.

“I’m sorry I threatened to leave,” he whispered. His fingers slowly traced your cheek and gently cupped your face. He took a deep breath and then forced a smile. “I thought pretending to call Jin-ah might make you a little jealous and force you to admit that you wanted me, but you’re a tougher nut to crack than I imagined.”

You gave him a watery smile. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not,” he told you. “You’re a beautiful person. Because I know that you kept your feelings bottled inside trying to make me happy. And I don’t know anybody else who would sacrifice so much for another person’s happiness. You’re that selfless and beautiful. You always have been. But I couldn’t keep watching you hurt yourself.”

You hiccuped and looked down at your hands. “I-I wouldn’t do it for just anyone.”

“Oh?”

“Only… only for someone I love.”

Jinyoung’s lips broke into a soft smile and he moved closer to you. Your heartbeat raced when his hands slid into your hair and pulled your face down towards his. “Oh? You mentioned something like that earlier in the hospital, too. Something about getting a phone call about someone you loved.”

You flushed.

“I-”

“Fuck, baby, I love you too. So much, you have no idea.”

His lips pressed against yours softly. Your heart nearly exploded in your chest as Jinyoung kissed you with all the passion that you’d both been holding back. It was sweet and loving and beautiful, but you could also feel his desperation in the way his lips tugged at yours. Jinyoung needed you. He needed your kiss and he needed your touch so badly.

“Jinyoung-” you whispered against his lips.

He gently sucked your bottom lip in between his and kissed you harder, moving his body in between your legs as his fingers entangled in your hair. “What?” he mumbled against your mouth. He was out of breath but your lips tasted too sweet. Jinyoung kept kissing you harder and more passionately, not letting you speak.

“Isn’t-isn’t this too fast?” you mumbled.

Jinyoung let out a chuckle; a low, deep chuckle that made your entire body tingle before his lips traced down your jawline slowly. “Too fast?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of your jaw and letting his tongue trace over it. “It’s been ten years since I first wanted to do this to you. Aren’t we going too slow?”

You had no response.

“I don’t- I don’t really…”

“Fuck,” Jinyoung stopped kissing you and pulled away for a moment. His lips were swollen and his eyes sparkled like diamonds as he looked up at you. Under his gaze, you felt like the most beautiful person in the world. “You’re right, we shouldn’t rush into this. I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“What’s the wrong idea?” you wondered.

“Any idea that suggests that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you is the wrong idea. But I don’t want to scare you. I’m already on my second chance here, I’m not going to fuck it up. Let’s take things slowly. Let’s try dating.”

You couldn’t help but give him a soft smile. Something inside your chest fluttered.  

“Really? You really think we should date?”

Jinyoung chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t tell you, did I? I’m not unemployed anymore. So there’s no need to give me that look. I finally found myself a job.”

“A job? Here, in town?”

“Yup. Does that make me more attractive?”

“Marginally.”

Jinyoung chuckled and kissed you sweetly. “Good, because I don’t want to be the unemployed bum of a boyfriend. I promise I’ll do everything right.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Unemployed bum is the last phrase I would use to describe you.”

“Really? Even if I brought that old black hoodie out again?”

“Please don’t.”

Jinyoung chuckled and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You giggled against the soft skin of his neck as he spoke. “I promise I won’t. I won’t fuck this up. This is too important to me. I’m going to make up for all the pain I caused you, and I’m going to show you that you can trust me again. Is that okay?”

You nodded.

“That sounds nice,” you whispered.

“Great.”

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[nerdywrites]

The Summer Soldier (part 13)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary: Late night talks will always be the most amazing times.

Warnings: All the fluff, angst if you squint, unedited (I am so sorry)

A/N: I’m back! Sorry this took so long, I had a ton of stuff to catch up on! Also, there’s a small HG reference in here, I thought it would fit.

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(Y/n) had no idea what to expect. In fact, she also had no idea where Peter was, which led to her strolling the streets of the neighborhood and some near it for what felt like hours until she saw what looked like a parachute fall from the sky near her.

Cursing her inability to run, she hobbled along as fast as she could, resulting in her being just late enough to see one of her dad’s suits flying away and a shivering Peter Parker jump off the jungle gym.

“Oh, thank god. I thought something bad happened, even Ned was worried-” Peter jumped, eye’s wide as he saw (Y/n) walking closer to him, he realized that he had the suit on without a mask “I already know you’re Spider-Man, Pete, relax. Sorry about what happened in Germany, by the way. I hope that thing didn’t hurt.”  

A hint of red creeped up his neck at the nickname “Oh, I-it didn’t, that’s okay. H-how did you k-know I’m Spider-Man?”

She smiled, now standing next to him “Well, a few months ago dad came up to me and asked me to find out who the famous Spider-Man was. How did you think he knew who to go to before the fight in the airport?”

“He said Spider-Man?” 

“Well, back then he didn’t know you were 15 years old”

“How did you know it was me?” They were walking away from the park now.

“I just looked at the times Spider-Man showed up, which happened to be about 10 minutes after the Midtown bell rang for the end of the day. So I checked the schedules of any possible student, and you dropped a lot of classes in the few weeks before Spider-Man started showing up. There were other factors too, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” 

He stared at her in awe “O-oh, okay, wow.”

She laughed at his stunned face “Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else will figure it out.”

He chuckled, glancing at his feet, then his gaze shifted to his left “I’m sorry i-if this is t-to personal, but, what’s on your legs?”

She to looked down, before her head popped back up “Oh, well, back in Germany I was flying after Rhodey, and he got shot at, but it ended up hitting me. I, uh, I fell, and the only thing I remember happening after that is waking up in the hospital being told I’m paralyzed. Dad made these, they help me walk, but they’re still a work in progress.” 

“I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay, worse things could’ve happened, ya know. Besides, they kept me out of prison.”

His head shot up and looked at her “You were going to go to prison?”

“Everyone else did, granted, they all escaped, but they were still there. Dad fought Ross tooth and nail to keep me out ‘until the doctors clear her.’” she air quoted “But he somehow found a way to get me into school rather than the middle of the ocean even after I was out of the hospital, so I’m thankful for that.”

“Well, I’m glad too”

She smiled “Thanks Pete. Oh, by the way, Flash thinks that we’re best friends, it’s a long story”

“It doesn’t have to be a lie” they passed a blue house before turning another corner “I-I mean, we can be friends.”

“Well then, bestie, we should probably learn more about each other, so, what’s your favorite color?”

“Now you’re getting deep”

She smacked his arm “We’re starting off small, smartass.”

“Okay, okay” he held his arms up in surrender “My favorite color is (f/c)”

And excited smile grew on her face “Mine too!”

He shook his head as he laughed “Okay, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A few years ago I wanted to be a teacher. Now I just want to help people, maybe be an Avenger when all this drama clears up. Either that or I want to travel, backpack Europe or something like that. What about you?”

“Being an Avenger sounds pretty cool. That’s what I’m focused on right now.”

“What’s your biggest secret?”

He laughed “So much for starting off small, and you already know it. It’s only fair that I know yours”

“Okay, ready?”

He nodded.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear “I am secretly the daughter of Tony Stark, and I live on the forty-third story of the tower.”

He pretended to be surprised “OMG really!?”

“I know, it’s shocking”

He laughed, shaking his head “Ok, if you’re not going to answer that, then-” he thought for a moment “What’s your biggest fear?”

She looked up at the stars that filled the night sky “Probably dying. Not when I’m old and I’ve lived a good life, but like dying young. Before I can travel, or change someone’s life, or fall in love, ya know?”

He thought about May, Ned, everything he wanted to do, and even the girl next to him, who he had admired for so long and was now realizing that the way he pictured her would never do her justice. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean”

Her watch beeped, and she groaned as she read the message “Well, Happy is looking for me.”

He inwardly cursed, not wanting their time to be over, but he supposed it would happen eventually. “Okay, I’ve got to get back home anyway, May’s probably worried sick”

“See you later then, Parker.”

“See you, Stark”

--

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[starsingingauthor]

Been on the Low

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides Pairing: Analogical, LoganxVirgil Contents: Heavy topic, lyrics bout suicide, self harm, blood, this is not a happy story, also Virgil cusses Summary: All his life has been planned out, told he was going to be this and do that. He never had a choice. He thought no one would understand. A/N: Well this took a turn and I am not sure how to feel about that in truth. Like I planned for angst but for some reason this is not what I expected. There is more to this, I just felt this would be a better stopping place than continuing. I do plan on Patton and Roman coming in at some point, also I want a fluffy ending dang it. Also this is kinda unedited and also may not fully flow well. I was just kinda going with it. The lyrics are from 1-800-273-8255 by Logic and Believer by Imagine Dragons. If there is anything else I should put in the content section please let me know.

Peeps who wanted tagged: (please don’t read if the contents will bother you, regardless of if you asked to be tagged)  @sanderstalker @thesocialbookwormishere

AO3 Link Chapter Two

I been on the low I been taking my time I feel like I'm out of my mind It feel like my life ain't mine

Logan dragged his feet slightly as he walked across the campus. It was obvious by the bags under his eyes that he was tired but more than that was his posture. Most who interacted with him before knew the man had perfect posture but today he was slumped over as he walked. It seemed as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, or that was the feel that any who looked at him would get. If anyone bothered to ask the man he would say he was fine, not that he expected anyone to ask.

After walking for a while Logan finally settled on a bench and slouched back against the wood. He watched as people walked past, some that he recognized from his classes but none seemed to notice him. None seemed to be bothered by the man who was drowning. He clenched his jaw before sighing heavily. Why would they be bothered by a machine? A humorless laugh left him as the thought floated through his head. No one thought he had emotions, and no matter how much he tried to repress them he did have them. They reached a crescendo, a point where Logan felt he couldn’t deal with them anymore. The expectations to succeed, the pressure to be perfect and never fail. Everything, he was drowning in it all.

~~

First things first I'mma say all the words inside my head I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh The way that things have been, oh ooh

Virgil stalked along the sidewalk, glaring at the ground as he walked. It had been another day where he was called out and ridiculed, and he was tired of the treatment. He was tired of people turning a blind eye to things that were going wrong. Just because it was the normal didn’t mean it was right! What did they not understand about that? He tapped anxiously on his thigh as he walked, trying to relieve some of the stress he was feeling as he walked.

Then something caught his attention from the corner of his eye, someone he recognized from his psychology class. What drew his attention though was the fact that he seemed so tired, and worn. Whenever they were in class he was never anything less than proper. So Virgil plopped down on the bench across from the man.

“Hey, the exams kicked your ass too?” He asked quickly, not leaving himself any time to back out. Something was wrong and while he may have been angry at the world, this man seemed to have been beaten by the world.

Logan looked up, blinking slightly in confusion of the man who suddenly sat across from him. His dark hair was dyed a purple on the top and Logan suddenly recognized him from a class. That was what he was asking about, right? He opened his mouth to answer before just silently nodding his head. It took too much energy that he didn’t have to conjure the words. Virgil just watched him silently for a moment, before shrugging.

“It was a bitch. I studied all night beforehand but I still feel like I bombed it. But then again I always feel like I bombed all my tests. It leads to a pleasant surprise when I actually pass them.” He chuckled slightly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “But I think more than that exam is bothering you, isn’t it?” His tone softened but the question caused the other to freeze.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Logan pushed his glasses up and avoided meeting Virgil’s gaze. “Besides what does it matter to you, we’re only strangers after all.”

“You’re right, we are. Doesn’t mean that we have to stay that way. My name’s Virgil.”

“...Logan.” It was a long moment before he responded, not sure what to take of this darkly dressed man. He was the only one who even seemed to notice him there, and took the time to sit with him and talk a bit.

“It’s nice to meet you Logan.”

~~

I don't wanna be alive I just wanna die And let me tell you why

Logan stared blankly at his cell phone, the screen dimming before shutting off from the call he had just received. Of course they would have found out. They always found out and yelled at him. All he wanted to do was take a class that actually interested him, out of the many that he never had any interest in anyway. But of course they took issue with that. Told him he needed to focus more on his proper studies. That he needed to focus and graduate. He needed to become a doctor after all.

A growl came from the man as he swiped the phone off the table, causing it to land and slide a few feet away. He never wanted any of this. He wanted to be a teacher instead, helping kids learn difficult things. But no, his parents told him he wouldn’t make it in that. So they told him they would only pay for college if he went into a medical field.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it. He hated it. He wanted out but there was no escape. He was drowning still, with no way to the surface. Logan’s nails dug into his arm, pulling him from his thoughts even if for just a moment. He needed out, he needed help, he needed it to stop. His thoughts were snowballing and he couldn’t stop them, he couldn’t control anything. It was all out of his control. It was all in someone else’s control. But there was something that was in his control.

~~

“Aren’t you burning up?” Virgil asked as he sat next to Logan. The man tilted his head curiously to the other, as though unsure what he meant. “Dude, it is hot outside and you’re wearing a long sleeved shirt. You gotta be burning up.”

“No, I find this to be quite comfortable actually.” He replied, turning to look over the notes written in his binder. “The air conditioner in here is usually turned to a much higher temperature after all.”

“Mhm.” Virgil nodded, watching him for a moment longer before he turned to the front of the class.

~~

I've been praying for somebody to save me, no one's heroic And my life don't even matter I know it I know it I know I'm hurting deep down but can't show it I never had a place to call my own I never had a home Ain't nobody callin' my phone Where you been? Where you at? What's on your mind? They say every life precious but nobody care about mine

Logan couldn’t even make it to his senior year. He broke long ago and no one was willing to pick up the pieces. He knew Virgil wouldn’t, the man had other things to worry about. More important things than the robot.

Logan laid on the bed of his apartment, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t eaten, he actually couldn’t remember the last time he had or when he last attended class. It didn’t matter anyway, his grades were slipping and his parents were going to pull away from his failure. He was going to end up without a degree in anything, and without the apartment they helped him with.

None of it mattered anymore. He didn’t care about any of it anymore. Not the rumbling that seemed so far off, or the pounding headache he had. It would be fine, no one needed him anyway. As he rolled over, wincing slightly at the pulling on his wrists, he noticed the shouting. But who was shouting anyway? Why were they shouting? Then he recognized his name being yelled, muffled by the walls. Slowly he pushed himself up and went to the door where he could now hear a loud pounding. When he finally pulled the door open he wasn’t expecting to see a near panicking Virgil on the other side.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?!” Virgil shouted before pushing himself into the apartment, pulling Logan along by his arm.

“Wh-what do you mean?” His voice broke slightly as he tried to clear his throat and continue.

“You weren’t in class all week and stopped answering messages. You wouldn’t pick up the phone!” Virgil held out his phone showing the several outgoing calls he had made to Logan’s phone. “I was afraid something had happened to you.” He finally lowered his voice.

“I don’t see why you were worried about me. We aren’t that close.” He pushed his slightly bent glasses up, missing the way that Virgil tensed. He didn’t miss the gentle tugging on his hand though and realized what he had done.

“Logan, I...you really think I don’t care.”

“No one else ever has.” He winced as a thumb gently rubbed over the scabbed over cuts.

I want you to be alive You don't gotta die Now lemme tell you why

“Then let me be the first. I do care about you Logan.” Virgil spoke calmly, more so than he felt looking at the dried blood that was smeared over the other’s arm. The arms that were more pale than normal, seeming weaker than normal. “Please. Don’t you want to see the stars when it gets cold with me? The sky is always so clear then.”

“Why?” His voice was breaking as he spoke. “Why do you care so much?”

“I’ve been there. I’ve been to the darkest depths and thought I would drown. I thought no one was there for me either, and you know what? Someone found me. They stuck their hand in to help me no matter how much I pulled them down. And I never want anyone to go through that. You don’t deserve to go through that.”

“But I’m not supposed to feel, I’m supposed to be better than this.” Tears were welling up behind the glasses, blocking the blue eyes and causing the room to become blurred.

“You just need some support.” Virgil pulled the man into him, hugging him tight as the walls seemed to crumble.