#god someone sink me in water to drown and let me enjoy my cool ending

[dontwanderoff]

i know i said i was excited for summer but i haven’t readjusted to warm weather yet and i may just be fading away from the heat

[sgwrscrsh]

winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai​. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked. 

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.” 

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands. 

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub. 

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.” 

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said. 

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist. 

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves. 

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms. 

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves. 

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes. 

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?” 

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner. 

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you. 

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door. 

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry. 

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?” 

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go. 

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings. 

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you. 

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts. 

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you. 

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds. 

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots. 

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask. 

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining. 

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.” 

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug. 

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by. 

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!” 

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.” 

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out. 

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs​ @sachirou-senpai​ @honey-makki​ @kenmaki​

[livexdolan]

Part three? I wonder how that whole car ride is? Maybe they stop to get stuff or they have alone time in the car?

I love that y’all are getting involved with this story! It makes me so excited to write!!

Masterlist

Previously (Pt. 2)

(Also this is the Grayson I think of for this story ;))

And the car ride is pretty awkward between the two of them. Of course, Grayson messes around with everyone, trying to make it seem like you two aren’t drowning in the silent fight you’re having.

Until you stop at a Circle K (if y’all don’t have these where you live I’m sorry but we have hundreds of them). And everyone gets out for a bathroom and snack break. You offer to charge the car, seeing as that water bottle of *special liquid* that you brought got put in the cooler in the trunk, so not only are you nowhere near as tipsy as you want to be, but you also don’t need to use the restroom.

You put the pump in and decide to pop the trunk to get your bottle out. Grabbing the bottle out, you take a long sip of it, trying to perfect your poker face so no one in the car knows you’re secretly getting drunk.

“I knew you were holding out on me,” You yelp at the deep voice behind you, causing some of the Pinot to spill. You glare up at Grayson and he laughs, holding up a finger to you as a silent ‘wait’.

You raise a brow as he reopens the cooler, grabbing out the matching blue water bottle to your purple. You realize you subconsciously brought the water bottle you bought with Grayson right before everything happened.

“You have to work on your poker face though,” he states as he takes a sip of his, not even flinching.

He tilts it towards you and you sniff it hesitantly, your nose scrunching up at the smell of straight tequila, you cough, pulling back, “oh my god you are such an alcoholic!”

“Says the girl drinking Pinot out of a water bottle,” he smirks and I roll my eyes, “this is nice. Feels like old times.”

Your smile drops and you looking away, biting your lip, “Grayson, I-“ the beep of the car makes you stop, walking back over to the front seat you see the cars almost finished charging.

“I should go let everyone know the cars almost ready,” you state, trying to get away from Grayson for a little bit.

He grabs you arm softly and pulls you back to him, your back pressed to the car as you look up at him. He moves a piece of hair out of your face, “Y/n, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers

What. The. Fuck? You gape at him as you watch his eyes, looking for any indication that he’s lying but the sincerity shining in his eyes scares you, “Grayson-“ he cuts your soft whisper off when he starts to lean in, his eyes fluttering from your eyes to your lips.

You catch yourself leaning in as well, eyes fluttering closed as his lips touch yours. His lips are feather-soft against yours. You gasp as his hands grip your waist and he slips his tongue past your parted lips gently.

You move your arms up his sides, holding his shoulder with one and the other goes to his neck, pulling slightly on the short hair at his nape. Something shifts as he grabs your thigh, hitching your leg up on his waist and molding himself to you.

“Gray,” you sigh against his lips as you pull away to catch your breath which gets stuck in your throat when he starts leaving small kisses up and down your throat, sucking on your jaw for a second before moving back up to your lips.

“God, I miss you calling me that,” he breathes, taking your lips back in his. Coaxing all the pain from the past two weeks out with his lips as you push against him harder. Your heart thunders in your ears and Grayson’s hand moves to your hair to grip. His other hand lands next to your head as leverage against the car.

The car beeping again, slightly louder pulls you back to reality. You push him slightly, your body cold after his warmth leaves you. You slip out under Grayson’s arm, peering into the window you see the cars fully charged and pull the plug out, putting it back at the station.

You look up at Grayson but have to look away quickly at the sight of his chest heaving a little, his lips red and swollen, pupils dilated, and hair a complete mess. You bite your lip and point back at the gas station, walking away silently.

When you get to the door, you can’t help but look back at Grayson. You see him pacing next to the car, hand going through his hair as he mumbled something to himself. You shake your head and open the door, the air conditioned room helping to cool your flushed skin.

“Hey, y/n! We were just about to head back out to you, what’s up?” Maya smiles at you with a water in her hand.

“Just- thought I’d tell you the car is charged. I’m going to use the bathroom really quick,” you point to the small door labeled ‘Restroom’ and slip in before they question it.

Leaning on the sink, you look at your messy hair, swollen lips, and red cheeks. You look like you tried to run a marathon. You’ve always wanted to know what kissing Grayson was like- sure, you’ve seen him kiss a fling every now and then but that- you’ve never seen him kiss anyone like that before.

And what the hell did he mean by ‘I’ve always wanted you’? If he always wanted you- why didn’t he say that when he had the chance at the party? Sighing, you splash your face with some cold water and take a deep, steadying breath.

“You ready?” Ryan asks, “Everyone one else is at the car. I said I’d wait for you,” he smiles and you smile back.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Ryan. How couldn’t you? He’s naturally a good guy, “Yeah, I’m good.”

He throws his arm around your shoulders as you walk out, “By the way, whatever happened between you and Gray has him fucked up. I’ve never seen him so beaten up when you two were fighting before.”

Turning you look at Ryan, eyebrows coming together, he squeezes your shoulder and smiles, “Don’t say anything to Grayson about it though, he made us promise not to say anything.”

“I-uh-okay?” You say, confused by the sudden admission.

Ryan puts his finger to his lip, “shhh,” you laugh at the overreaction, nodding at him.

“I got it,” you smile, looking back at the car to see Grayson leaning next to the open back door, jaw clenched and eyes dark.

Woah who pissed in his cereal? You raise a brow at him but he just shakes his head, getting into the back seat, “I think we made him mad,” Ryan sings and laughs, going to the other side of the car and getting in.

Why would he be mad about Ryan being...well, Ryan? I sigh and get in as well, sitting next to Grayson he looks out the window, ignoring my existence.

I stretch out a little, accidentally hitting my arm to Grayson’s and he grunts lowly, pulling his arm away. I’m taken aback, “who the hell pissed in your tequila?” I whisper-shout at him.

“I don’t know- maybe you should ask Ryan,” I scoff and he rolls his eyes.

“You are so childish. You know that? I am not your property- though I’m starting to feel like it. We need to have a serious talk about your lack of respect for me and my feelings,” I say, crossing my arms, surprised at my dominance.

What can I say? I’m tired of all these games. My subconscious shrugs. Grayson rolls his eyes again and mumbles something, clenches his jaw, and then looks back out his window.

I sigh, deciding to let him pout. I lean my head against the headrest and watch as we slowly pull out the gas station. I feel even worse about this trip now than I did when I first found out I was trapped in a car with him.

A/n: not exactly how I wanted to end it but I felt so bad this took so long. Who knew the last three days were going to be the most emotionally-draining days of the month? Anywho- hope y’all enjoy. Someone play ‘Circles’ by Post Malone because I’m seeing a pattern develop 👀

Next (Pt. 4)...

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3997 Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death/loss

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 1 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

A soft knock at pulls you away from the computer. Twisting your stiff head towards the door you smile, seeing Steve Rogers standing with a tray of coffee and a paper bag in hand marked with the logo of your favorite nearby restaurant.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you chuckled, though you meant every word as you invited Steve to sit at your desk for lunch.

Steve worked security for Stark Industries and you developed a close friendship in the years since you’ve been there. Though he was undeniably good looking, with the build of a Greek God and long lashes you were incredibly jealous of, you never saw Steve as anything other than the brother you never had.

At the time you met he was dating a girl from the building, Lillian Nguyen from accounting. You hadn’t seen much of her in person, just through the photos Steve showed you with adoration on his phone. When he began talking about looking for engagement rings you were thrilled but that excitement was replaced with anger and confusion when Steve found out Lillian was cheating on him.

He was extremely hurt and became guarded afterwards, not wanting to put himself out there again. His lack of socializing worked with your lack of a social life and on the rare occasion you had a moment free from school work Steve would often come over and hang out to binge watch shows you needed to catch up to on Netflix while you ate pizza.

The paper bag rustled as he pulled out a large sandwich, cup of soup and a salad, distributing napkins across the desk as he knows how much of a messy eater you can be. You grabbed the sandwich, tearing open the paper wrapping and sinking your teeth into it with a bite full of food too large for your mouth.

Steve laughed, as he stirred the broth of his soup. He’s witnessed you eating before, unapologetically shoveling food into your face especially when you were starving.

“You know the sandwich isn’t goin’ anywhere, right?” he joked.

Chewing a large mouthful, you grabbed a napkin to wipe the corner of your lips that you felt had a piece of food sticking to it.

“Steve,” you paused to take a sip of coffee, “I’m fucking starving. I ran out this morning and all I had here was a package of almonds that are not filling despite what you say.”

He asked the reason for your tardiness and you explained how you stayed at the cafe until closing to finish up your work, all because of your stupid neighbor.

“Have you tried talkin’ to him?”

You stared at Steve incredulously. “Haven’t gotten a chance. I gotta wait for the right moment. There’s no way I’m knocking on his door, not when he’s banging all of New York, who knows what I’d end up seeing.”

“D’ya want me to do it?”

It was in Steve’s nature to help and though you appreciated his offer you wanted to handle this yourself. You were the one that had to live next to the Music Man, it would be better to confront him alone.

“I understand,” he said, taking a swig from his water bottle. “You down to hang tonight?”

“Wish I could but before my time is sucked away by the next paper I really need to research where I could do my internship. I’m all registered for school but I need to submit the paperwork for where I’ll be doing my hours and I’m running out of time.”

“You should talk to my buddy Sam. Maybe he could get you in at the hospital.”

Sam was Steve’s friend from the gym. They’d work out together, turning everything into a friendly competition to see who could run faster or lift more. Sam was also a doctor in the emergency department of Metro-General so he might have connections. It was worth a shot so you asked Steve to text him. Still you planned on searching for more backups to be safe.

Before the hour was over Steve left to head back downstairs to the security desk and you continued your work for Ms. Hill. You had evolved to working closer with Ms. Hill, becoming more like an executive assistant to her and when necessary Ms. Potts.

In between coordinating a meeting your phone goes off with a text from Wanda, asking if she could see you over the weekend for brunch. Ironically, she ended up moving to the city after all. There was only so far she could go with her degree at home and with her mother’s blessing she came to New York to work for The Jewish Museum.

She lived in a trendy loft on Bleecker Street, decorated with her signature eclectic style. Woven rugs hung like tapestries on the wall, plants hanging down from macramé holders in front of the large windows. Her furniture was an odd mix of plush velvet tufted cushions and smooth leather arm chairs that somehow worked with the mid-century touches and industrial shelving.

Her apartment had more space which you envied, although you loved everything else about where you lived. The neighborhood was amazing, with great shops and a lot of different food options right at your doorstep. Everything was perfect, except your neighbor.

Responding to Wanda you let her know you could most likely make it depending on the workload you’d be getting from your Saturday class. You could not wait until that was over. Spending all day in a small, windowless room instead of enjoying the summer weekend made you miserable but you were close to the end, so, so close.

When the work day was over you went to meet Steve downstairs, walking over to the desk to say goodnight to the elderly security guard who’s been with the company since its inception.

“Any plans for the weekend Mr. Lee?”

The wiry white hairs that made up his mustache moved as he grinned. “Well, Joanie thinks my hair’s getting a bit long,” he smiled, running his fingers through his greyish-white strands. “She’ll have it trimmed before supper, I'm sure,” he laughed.

A smile graced your face whenever you listened to Mr. Lee, admiring the adoration he had for his wife. Steve has heard all of his stories more than once but he never tires of them either. Everyone loved Mr. Lee, especially Tony Stark, who continued to pay him a full time salary for the part time hours he worked.

The job was easy enough as he greeted visitors to Stark Industries, and signing them in to the building while Steve and some other employees did most of the security checks.

You and Steve bid Mr. Lee goodbye as you made your way to the subway. Steve didn’t live far from you and though he could have gotten off at a further stop he always walked with you to your building, partially to make sure you got home safely but also because he needed a distraction to get out of his head.

There were many times when you suggested he go out, not with the purpose of meeting someone but just to break up the monotony of his routine, but Steve lost his confidence after the breakup. For now, he didn’t want to be told what to do, he simply needed a friend and so you were there for him.

Wanda sat back against the chair beside the bistro table covered in shade. Her always changing hair color was light brown today, parting the silky strands perfectly down the middle. She was the definition of cool, despite the heat, wearing a loose scoop-necked tank top, slim ripped jeans and topped things off with a pair of motorcycle boots. Her neck was adorned with a few necklaces of varying lengths, one of which she never took off, a silver lightning bolt in honor of her late brother.

She and Pietro were twins with distinctly different personalities. Wanda was laid back, even as a child. She would actually stop to smell the roses that lined the garden of their backyard, whereas Pietro was always moving. He was an extraordinary multitasker that could not sit still.

Pietro had so many dreams, a full list of things he wanted to do in life but he was taken from the world too soon. Wanda wears the necklace as a reminder to live life to the fullest, knowing how quickly things can change.

Squeezing through the other tables to get to Wanda, you huff as you sit down and catch your breath, apologizing for being late.

“Wanda, I swear I’m going to kill him.”

“Who?”

“The fucking Music Man! I had to leave my own damn apartment again because of his stupid playing. Like, dude, could you not? You live in an apartment. Everyone hears you, everyone!”

Grabbing the glass of ice water you quickly drink most of it to soothe the dehydration of your mouth.

“And another thing, like does he not realize that we can all hear the girls he’s banging? Wanda, they’re so fucking loud. If they were still there right now I bet you could hear them from here.”

Wanda laughed at your accusation. “Oh, so they don’t stay the night? He’s a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kinda guy?”

“I guess! I hear them leave, whining at his door as they’re begging to stay over. It’s so pathetic. What’s so great about this guy anyway?” you scoffed. “I wish he never moved here!”  

With a final humph you opened the menu, your anger dissipating as you read the descriptions for everything you wanted, mouth salivating as you tried to decide what to choose. Wanda opted for the frittata while you decided to take out your frustrations on yourself with delicious Challah French Toast.

Wanda’s eyes widened as she watched you drown your meal in syrup. You hummed in satisfaction as you took a bite.

“Hmm, it’s not as good as the kind your mom makes,” you said.

Wanda laughed, “Uh, yeah, because she never used a whole bottle of syrup. Geez Y/N can you taste anything other than sugar?”

“Shush Wan, let me enjoy myself here.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at you. “Well, anyway, I wanted to tell you something exciting...” she sang, grinning widely. “Director Coulson asked me to curate an exhibit on prejudice told through Romani-Jewish art!”

“Wanda this is perfect! I’m so happy for you!” you beamed, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around her in a proud hug.

“I know! I’m so excited. Mom’s gonna come up for the opening. I mean that’s a long time from now but fuck, I can’t wait!”

After finishing brunch you went back home to begin working on your final. It was a research paper that was worth half of your grade so you really needed to concentrate. And yet the moment the elevator doors opened to your floor you heard it, the sound of music flooding the halls coming from none other than the apartment next to yours.

Jamming your keys into the door with frustration you grunted, grabbing all the things you needed to do your work at the cafe. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the elevator again. With your arms crossed over your chest you could feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, beating to the stupid rhythm of the stupid song that your stupid, inconsiderate neighbor wouldn’t stop playing.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened and you were like a bull, grunting and blowing puffs of air from your flaring nostrils as you were ready to charge into it. As the doors opened you stopped yourself from barreling into your neighbors that were inside.

“Whoa, Y/N!” Clint said, raising his hands up defensively, “Easy there.”

Clint lived on the floor above you along with his fiancée Natasha, whose arms were looped through his.

“Sorry guys,” you apologized. “Oh, wait.” Making your right hand into a fist you ran it across your chest in a few circular motions.

“Someone’s been practicing,” Natasha chimed in, signing her words along as she spoke to you.

Clint was partially deaf and though he used hearing aids he often signed, especially when he didn’t feel like talking to people, although you were one of the lucky ones he considered a friend. Still, you wanted to be able to communicate with him, even if he didn’t want to actually speak.

Clint was a history teacher who already tried to get you into his school for your internship but doubted you would be brought on board. There were apparently a lot of issues going on with the principal and Natasha surmised there was a big lawsuit in the works.

Natasha was an attorney, hoping to make partner at her current firm Nelson & Murdock. Clint never failed to praise her, nicknaming Natasha the Black Widow as he claimed watching her dismantle a witness was like watching a spider sink its venomous fangs into its prey.

“Where’re you guys off to?” you asked.

“Just going out for some ice cream,” she replied.

Clint laughed. “Some ice cream? No, I’m going out to eat a lot of ice cream,” he chuckled, rubbing his eager stomach.

Natasha poked the small protrusion of his belly through his shirt. “Listen buddy, we’ve got a wedding to plan. Easy on the ice cream.” Natasha brought her full lips to his for a kiss they both smiled through, knowing she was teasing him.

“What about you Y/N?” Clint asked.

The elevator doors opened and you walked out with them, explaining how frustrating it’s been that you’ve had to leave for the cafe to do your work all because of the new neighbor.

“Oh the Guitar Hero?” Clint joked. “Yeah, we can hear him too. Well, actually…” he drifted off smirking.

“Clint takes his hearing aids out so no, he doesn’t hear him,” Natasha filled in the information that had you bursting out with laughter.

“Can you hear the women too?” you wondered, considering their apartment was right above his.

“Yeah, kind of, that’s more muffled though. It’s probably a lot worse for you.” Natasha grimaced, catching the way she didn’t mean the words to come out.

It was true though, sharing a wall with the man that made your string lights bounce with every thrust. The sound was bad enough and thankfully your headphones helped with that but every night you had to shut your eyes, hoping you would fall asleep before he was through with them.

You had to give it to the guy though, the man had stamina. Still, you wanted to kill him. At least you were friends with a lawyer...

The next few days have the same result, with you coming home dead tired from work, hoping you’d be able to stay home to work on your final to no avail. You tried using the headphones in your apartment but it didn’t help. The sound was mostly blocked out but your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the anger you held towards the neighbor, knowing he was playing that same song over and over again.

You might as well live in the cafe since you’ve practically paid them your rent in coffee and pastries over the last month. You were burning out quickly and Steve decided you needed a break, bringing over pizza and beer.

Opening up the box, you smiled, staring at the bubbling cheese.

“Ahh, pizza, my one true love,” you said, plating slices for you and Steve.

Your small table was always covered in textbooks, mail and other paperwork you needed to tend to, so you and Steve took your usual spots on the couch.

After working at Stark Industries for a few months you made enough money that allowed you to finally buy much needed furniture. You adored your light grey couch, adorned with blush colored throw pillows. You threw the fuzzy white blanket over the side of the couch, not serving much purpose during the summer months other than to look like it was naturally left on the cushion in a perfectly styled manner for display.

Pushing aside the candlesticks that sat on your coffee table, you set down actual coasters for the bottles Steve opened, not wanting to ruin the veneer of the grey wood top of your rustic coffee table. A small accent rug helped define the space you declared as the living room, despite having your bed within arm’s reach beside you.

Against the brick wall is your TV, sitting atop a modern white stand with shelves for storage you’ve packed to the brim. Beside it, a large antique floor mirror leans against the brick. It was as tall as Steve who helped bring it to your apartment after you found it at a flea market. However, the thing you cherished most was the artwork of the Brooklyn Bridge that hung above your couch, painted by Steve as a gift to you.

“So,” he said, chewing quickly to swallow the food in his mouth. “I talked to Sam. He said it would be cool for you to call him about the internship.”

“Oh yeah. You really think he could help or is this just a rouse to give him my number?” you half-joked.

Steve laughed deeply, wiping away a bit of oil the pizza leaked onto his chin. “Nah, it’s definitely about the internship but I wouldn’t put it past Sam if he tried to take you out. Lord knows he’s been on my case about it with you since I met ‘im.”

“Does he not think guys and girls can have a friendship without romance involved?”

“I can’t speak for him… probably not though.”

You laughed before getting up for another slice. You hoped Sam would be able to help with the internship, no strings attached. He didn’t seem like that type of guy anyway, and all of Steve’s friends were good people so you weren’t worried.

As the Music Man began his one man band you had to gradually increase the volume of your television; your anger rising with every click of the remote. It was no longer enjoyable to watch the action movie you and Steve put on, having to raise the volume for higher to hear the dialogue and scramble to lower the blasting noise of car screeching and explosions. When you couldn’t take it anymore you called it a night.

“Guess you haven’t spoken to him?” Steve asked the question he clearly knew the answer to.

“Soon,” you said hopefully, not knowing when the day might come.

As the sun began to rise on the early Saturday morning you were getting ready for class. With your closet open you debated on what to wear when you heard a voice from the other side of the wall.

“Hi ma… Things are good… and Dad…”

He must have been walking around the apartment as you heard most of the words.

“I know…Leaving now…”

You heard the undoing of his locks and the front door creaking open. Shit! Your first moment to speak to the Music Man alone and you’re standing in your underwear. There’s definitely no way you would approach him now. Instead you raced to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what he looked like but it was too late.

Huffing in frustration you continued to get dressed and within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave. The elevator dinged as you shut your door, inserting your key to turn the deadbolt, unaware of the form that was moving closer towards you, not until you heard the whistling of a familiar tune.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, as if that tune was part of a psychological experiment, like Pavlov’s dog but instead of salivating you wanted to punch something.

“Hey neighbor.”

The soft voice of the Music Man broke you from your vision of punching through your shared wall and destroying his instruments. With a calming inhale you turned around to face him.

“I’m Bucky.”

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs as you stared directly into the kindest, bluest eyes you had ever seen. All the anger left your body, replaced by the softness of his pink lips that reminded you of flowers in full bloom.

He was tall and lean, but your eyes did not miss the bulge of his biceps that showed through his cotton t-shirt. In his hand was a coffee cup, gripped under his long fingers. His hair was dark and pulled back into a low sloppy bun, with a loose piece falling beside his smile.

His hand was extended towards you and you weren’t sure how long it had been. It felt like you were staring at him for hours, or was it only seconds. Did time really stop moving the moment you finally saw him? You broke yourself out of your trance to shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I just moved in. Well not just, but not long ago,” Bucky said.

Yeah I know. I hear you every night. You remembered your frustration and tried to assemble the sentence in your head of how to confront him.

“You ever get coffee from the place on the corner?” he asked, gesturing to the cup in his hand. “The line was crazy long but worth it, it’s delicious.”

“Yeah, once or twice but I’m usually at the Grind House. They’re open late and that’s where I have to go to study because… uh…” you stammered for a moment, “...your guitar playing is too distracting.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering why you felt uncomfortable when he was the one who was being a bad neighbor.

Bucky’s face dropped with guilt. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s alright,” you lied, not knowing why you said that. Pulling more confidence out of midair you continued, “It’s just that the walls are so thin and I’m in school, well I work full time too, but I’ve just got a lot on my plate and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can afford the coffee shop every night.”

You chuckled to lighten up the conversation, continuing to ramble before giving him a chance to speak. “So, um, if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could practice during the day instead or weekends are mostly fine. I’m actually heading to class now so I’ll be gone all day.” Great, give him your whole schedule why don’t you.

With nerves getting the better of you, you turned on your heel quickly saying it was nice to meet him. Briskly making your way towards the elevator you pressed the button furiously in hopes it would get to your floor faster.

Once inside you let out a big sigh and waved your hand in front of your slightly sweaty, heated face. Bucky seemed like he genuinely wasn’t aware of the noise he was making, and the way you passive aggressively called him out on it made you feel like shit.

But what was worse was knowing there was a face, a drop dead gorgeous face that is responsible for making the women of New York scream in ecstasy every night. It was going to be very difficult to concentrate in class today.

Getting home later that afternoon you were anxious to make something to eat, but more anxious about Bucky, hoping you wouldn’t run into him again. As you opened your door your foot slid on something and as you looked down you saw a small envelope with your name written on it.

Inside was a $50 gift card to The Grind House with a little note. I’m truly sorry about the noise. –Bucky

Your mouth opened in shock at the realization that Bucky did this nice gesture for you, and worse, you were going to have to thank him.

PART 3

[mishasminion360]

Here Comes the Boom

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: This is a sequel to my fic “This Feeling Has a Name”. That fic was supposed to be a one shot, but I received some very positive feedback inquiring about more, so I figured ‘what the heck!’ I hope you enjoy this installment as much as the first. Thank you for all your likes, love, and support. Also, stay tuned because I have a major Mandalorian fic in the works.

Since the night you ended your relationship (such as it was) you’d avoided Javier Peña like the plague. Not an easy thing to do considering you worked in the same building. Anytime the two of you made eye contact, you’d quickly duck out of the room or strike up a conversation with some poor, unsuspecting co-worker before Javi could corner you.

You’d gone as far as to request a transfer, but the powers that be were dragging their feet through the sea of paperwork. For now you’d just have to grin and bare it to the best of your ability.

You reassured yourself over and over again that putting some much needed distance between you and Peña was the wisest move; you repeated it like a mantra in your head. You practically meditated on the thought, like the fucking Buddha.

Your brain was firmly planted in reality, but your heart, God damn it, still needed a little more convincing. It was still nestled comfortably in Javier’s hands.

When you were certain he wasn’t looking, your eyes would lock onto him across the room. They would gaze. They would linger. And you would yearn. You’d walk past his empty desk and your fingers would unconsciously reach out to graze the smooth leather of his jacket draped over the back of his chair. The same jacket he’d once wrapped around your shoulders.

It was undeniable: you’d been bitten by the proverbial love bug and were sick as hell, and there was no cure. You worked in the same room as some of the most brilliant, tactful minds on the planet, so you knew there was no hiding your condition for long. And, of course, Steve Murphy was the first to figure it out.

“What the hell did Javi do now?” he asked you point blank, cornering you at the water cooler.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to feign ignorance and failing miserably.

“Well, he’s been more of a bastard than usual and I figured it had something to do with you. And if something did happen between you two, because it’s always the safe bet, I could only imagine that Javi fucked up royally. So, I ask again: what did he do?”

You gulped down your water, wishing it was something stronger, and tossed the cup.

“Why do you assume his bullshit has anything to do with me?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Murphy’s mouth.

“Because nothing gets him more worked up than you.”

You knew it was meant as a compliment, but you tried desperately not to see it that way.

“We’re hunting Pablo fucking Escobar, darlin’. One of the most dangerous criminal, dare I say masterminds, in all of Colombia, potentially the world. But not even this motherfucker has been able to get under Javi’s skin the way you have. And don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Of course Steve noticed. Because you were so damn obvious. You were ashamed and embarrassed of your unprofessionalism, but you couldn’t blame that on Javier Peña. Your feelings and the resulting behaviors of said feelings were your own.

“The relationship had run its course, Steve, so I ended it. That’s it. We’re adults, adults break up. If Javi is insisting on taking it like a child, that’s on him.”

You return to your desk and attempt to lose yourself in paperwork. You know Steve wants to say more; the silence that follows is pregnant with his unvoiced questions, thoughts and opinions. Fortunately for you he’s wise enough to keep them all to himself.

“Hang in there,” he mumbles, patting your shoulder in a brief gesture of support before striding off.

***

You finish drying your hands and you’re about to exit the ladies room when suddenly the door flies open and in storms Javier.

“Shit!” you exclaim, both startled and a bit disgusted at the lengths he would go to just to confront you.

“We need to talk,” he grumbles, standing between you and the door.

“We have nothing to talk about, Javier, and certainly not here of all places!”

Just then one of the receptionists attempts to enter the restroom, doing a double take when she notices Javier.

“Go find another bathroom,” he barks at the wide eyed young woman.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Peña?” she snaps.

“OUT!” he roars. She doesn’t need to be told twice.

For good measure he locks the door behind her, and the two of you are officially alone. Even in the enclosed space, you try to put as much distance between the two of you as physically possible.

Javier let’s out a frustrated breath as he runs a hand over his face and through his hair.

“I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but I need you to listen to me. Just listen to me. Okay?”

Your heart is thudding in your ears but you attempt to play it cool by crossing your arms and leaning back against the sink.

“I’m listening.”

Javi took a deep breath then began again.

“You know I’m not the best at showing emotion-“

You cut him off with a laugh.

“You just screamed a poor woman out of this bathroom and you say you’re no good at showing emotion?”

You could see the anger boiling up inside him once again, but he closed his eyes, took a breath, tamped it down, and continued.

“I don’t typically get close to people, alright? I don’t usually do relationships, friendly or otherwise. What you and I have...”

You shot him a pointed look at the same instant he caught his mistake.

“Had ,” he corrected. “That’s usually the extent of my emotional attachment.”

You snickered a bit. “I sure as hell hope Steve is enjoying it while it lasts, then.”

“God dammit, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Now you want to get serious?”

That may have been a poor choice of words. Actually, goading him on while he was obviously upset may have been one big bad idea on your part, because in a flash Javier was crushing his body to yours and shackling your wrists in his hands. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his skin burning your own. Or maybe that was your own.

He took a second to recollect himself, but he didn’t release his grip on you. In that moment you didn’t mind.

“Just who the hell said I didn’t love you, huh?”

His entire body was like an angry storm: his pounding heart was thunder, and his words struck you like lightening. But his eyes, just like that of any other tempest, were calm. And as you gazed into them your fear was washed away, as if by rain.

“You did,” you whispered. “You told me, Javi, that love wasn’t your thing. You warned me when we first started seeing each other, and you just said it again now. Don’t you even hear yourself when you talk?”

He didn’t say anything, only swallowed painfully over the lump in his throat.

“I get it, Javier, okay? This is not my first time being with someone like you. I know there are people out there who just can’t stand the idea of love and relationships, and there’s nothing wrong with that. To each their own right?”

He seemed frozen so you took the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and lower his arms to his sides.

“That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Javier. You don’t have to apologize for being who you are. You don’t ever have to apologize for that.”

You looked away as angry, self conscious tears filled your eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Javier. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more careful. I’m sorry I didn’t take your warning to heart.”

Before you even realized what you were doing, you brought your hand gently to his face. This could, would, be the last time you ever touched him, and because he probably understood that all too well he reached up and placed his hand atop yours, pressing it harder against his cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell in love with you, Javi.”

You saw his eyes go painfully wide as you slipped from his hold and made your way around him, not sparing a single look back as you left the restroom. You didn’t see him punch the mirror, but you heard the glass shatter from the other side of the door.

Wiping angrily at your eyes, you hastily retrieved your jacket and purse from your desk and tapped Steve on the shoulder on your way out.

“Tell the boss I’m leaving early,” you said, and if Steve was going to protest you didn’t give him the chance. You were as good as gone.

***

The next day you called in sick. For one day, just one lousy fucking day, you wanted to be alone to drown your thoughts under a stack of paperwork a mile high. You told the boss not to call and bother you unless your transfer request had gone through.

But as luck would have it, you picked the wrong fucking day to stay home.

One second you were skimming page after page of Escobar’s dossier, the next the pages were fluttering in the air like confidential snowflakes, launched skyward by the force of the explosion that rocked your apartment and the shops below.

@mamacitapascal @obsessivelysearching

[dylanxmin]

painkiller ∣ 5 ∣ j.hs

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; little high on angst, swearings, mention of abortion, mention of adoption, mention of miscarriage, unedited(rlly sorry about this)

word count; 5k+

rating; nc17

a/n; heyyy, it’s been a month since i last update this story and i only blame my finals, my sudden lost of muse, and some side effects of my life but there it is, freshly served, angsty episode!! ion know how did this come out but im feeling positive for the next episode! so,,,, hope you all enjoy reading this part, and as always, i do really appreciate a little comment soooo... lol, love y’all  ♡

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‘‘Yes, can we have a brief explanation about the story of our current project?’’ 

‘‘Miss Y/N?’’ 

‘‘Y/N?’’ 

Light, red and yellow mixes and crushes down when something hard nudges at your shoulder and brings you the reality. Shake of your body startles Namjoon, who was nudging your shoulder to wake you up. Pairs of eyes currently stares at you, wide, curious and surprised, too, as no one expects you to fall asleep in the middle of an important meeting. But, you did anyway. Surprising yourself with such an action, yet you lost control of your sleep schedule way before this meeting, so you weren’t that ashamed as the sleep still lingers around your head. 

Blinking, blinking, blinking for a couple of times before your vision loses its blur, and the faces look way better to your own eyes. Shock still fresh on their faces, a weird sound rises by your throat as you try to clean it before talking. Namjoon holds his laugh back, but you can see it in the redness of his cheeks and the veins that struggle under his skin. 

‘‘I-’’ you clear your throat, once again as it comes hoarse from sleeping. ‘‘I’m sorry, can you say it again?’’ Mr. Lee stares directly into your eyes, he opens his mouth but closes again. And you know you will try to drown yourself in the sink if the corner of his mouth hasn't curled up. 

You sigh, before he asks again, and listens to your explanation. You try to keep it smooth, and once you start to talk about your work, all the sleep leaves your head, enthusiasm fills it place. 

You love your work. Falling asleep doesn’t mean the opposite. 

‘‘I swear to god if you won’t stop laughing, Kim-’’ 

‘‘But..- but you told the story of our new game, drool drying on your chin, with such an enthusiastic manner.’’ Namjoon’s giggles cut himself, palm hangs in the air, other on his knee. A manager who is in his thirties enjoys his coworkers suffer, laughs his lungs off. Such a mature man. You sigh, hand curled around the cup full of water for you to go to the bathroom after. Countless times. 

Fingertips pinching the tip of your brows, you stand on the kitchen side of your office. Shame still red on your face, you barely able to hold yourself back from either crying or smashing the cup on your friend’s head. Which, you like the last option very much. It’s a shame that you possibly couldn’t do that here. Maybe later, on one of your movie nights. 

‘‘I think it was cute, though.’’ the man in his much more formal clothes rather than his usual sweatpants and his shirt enters the kitchen side. Brown hair brushed neatly on the left side, his features look good. ‘‘Don’t pressure yourself anymore. I’m sure they are used to these things.’’ 

‘‘Thank you for helping my self-reliance to gather itself, but I don’t think it’s that simple, Damien.’’ imitating his smile, even though it’s more faint then he has, you sigh once again. Taking a spot on the table, you let your head fall on it. ‘‘I was literally drooling all over myself. Ugh… such a mess.’’ 

Another laugh escapes by Namjoon’s lips, but he pats your head also. ‘‘Damien is right. You know Jihoon and Yeona will be cool about this.’’ 

You scoff. ‘‘Yeah, but I don’t refer to them by their first names as they are the Ceo’s of this company. Like you,’’ 

‘‘Then you shouldn’t refer to me with my name, too, as I’m your boss.’’ an annoying smirk alive on his mouth, he swipes his body on the table. Gulping down his coffee, his stares never leaves you. Something hot, almost burning coils in your chest. Reminding you red, as you stare at him back. Mouth wrinkled, your breath felt heavy. 

It was anger and you didn’t know how to pressure it back where it came from. Even before your pregnancy, you weren’t good with handling your emotions, but now. With so many hormones not knowing what to do, you were even worse. Sudden crying sessions, constant fury always ready to burst out, and the sneaky, dark anxiety getting you at the worst moment, where you were alone and in the dark. It was hard, and too much. Even before being pregnant, and while being pregnant. You weren’t good with them. 

‘‘You know what, I decide not to cook for you anymore.’’ heartbreak flashes in Namjoon eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘‘You can buy your own chicken breast from somewhere and eat that shitty sauce.’’ 

‘‘Ouch..’’ Damien who is currently watching the cold vibrations coming from you, stays silent after your gaze lands on him. He is scared, and not ready to be the next target of your stinging tongue. Though, it doesn’t last that long. 

Once you see the tremble of Namjoon’s lips, and his hug follows his sorry’s, your coldness melts away. Shame creeps back, sits heavy as you lower your head on the table. But before you can dive in your bad scenarios in your head, brutal yet familiar bickering starts when Nara enters the kitchen, after she takes her place on the table. Her nose crinkled with disgust while waiting for Namjoon to end his insults, only to throw another to him. Damien tries to cut them off, but it’s useless as he gives up and rests his back on his chair. Hesitant stares gather on you, only to tear them apart while you pretend like you didn’t notice. 

Yet, you don’t want to suffocate yourself with your thoughts, you raise your head, eyes meeting with the brown haired man. Because you don’t and probably can’t break that cold war between your friend and Nara, you find your escape on Damien. 

‘‘So, we have to prepare a meeting for you to put a suit on?’’ cocking your brow high, you ask. His surprise fades after a moment of waiting. Maybe because you aren’t the warmest person or because of the effect of your friends that filled your head with the idea of him having some feelings for you, you never attempt to talk with him first. Not that he isn’t a decent man, but more likely, you weren’t into him and did not want to make a wrong move. For him to get the wrong idea. 

But maybe you are being stupid for believing your delusinal friends about his feelings, and he just wants to be friendly. Though, it’s good to not risk anything, right?

‘‘Suits just not my type, and also, who is wearing these other than him?’’ Damien points Namjoon, who is in a deep, hurtful conversation with your other coworker. You tear your eyes from him to land on Damien once again, his smiling this time. Wide, eyes imitating it. ‘‘Also, doesn’t it hurt your feet? You weren’t wearing heels for a long time.’’ 

After he mentions it, your feet start to pulse with pain. Embarrassment clouded all over your other senses, but his words bring them back. And you wrinkle your face in pain. Of course, it hurts. How it won’t hurt while your feet try to set themselves free by growing bigger inside of its cage and the process isn’t an easy one. Though, these whining are the last thing for your coworker to hear so you simply go with a soft smile. 

‘‘Yeah, a bit but nothing I can’t handle.’’ 

‘‘Oh okay then. Good to hear.’’ he leans closer, eyes gleaming like a child in his pre-mischievous stage. ‘‘Just in case, I have a pair of nice sneakers waiting in my closet. All comfy and less deadly.’’ 

Mirroring the act, you also get close to him. Palm covering the side of your curled mouth, ‘‘I will consider it, but why are you acting like you were selling drugs?’’ whispering the half of your words, you cocked your head aside, watching his face wrinkle due to his growing smile. And seeing him from this side, you realise how good looking he is. Radiant smile adds more point to his charisma as he does, eyes narrow but curls cutely on the ends, and for a second you just stare at his side profile. His spotless skin dips on the cheek as his dimple wants to show off. Thankfully, when he starts to talk the silvery sheet goes away, to your luck. 

‘‘Well, we won’t want other heel wearers to come at my desk for my fancy shoes, right?’’ 

Nodding, you point your finger at him as if he made a good point. ‘‘I see… Of course we wouldn’t want that, of course.’’ 

After the short break, everyone turned in their work the same as you. And you find yourself so tired after talking about the details of the story of your current game with Heejin. Trying to find reliable reasons and motives is hard for some time, as you continue to work on the specific character’s choices in the game, and why and exactly how they should do is sometimes irksome even when you have someone who tries really hard to help you. Yet, you know you can’t put all the weight on Heejin’s shoulders as the poor woman barely had some sleep because of the pre-cold effect. 

When she sneezed for the fourth time in the last five minutes, you had to stop and be sure of her well being. Putting your palm on her clothed arm, you mimicked a smile to look sympathetic rather than annoyed. Even though you were a little bit. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to know that. 

‘‘I know I asked this before but are you sure you are okay? Maybe you should take a rest for the rest of the day. Obviously, you need some.’’ 

She looks hesitant at first, eyes widens at your words but she covers it with a faint smile and nods. ‘‘Oh, I’m okay, I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me.’’ Heejin bites down her lip before continuing again. ‘‘Did I annoy you? I’m sorry, I just took a pill, so I think that will make me better in a couple of minutes.’’ 

‘‘No, no…’’ pulling your hands in the air, you shake your head in denial. It did bother you but not much for her to apologize for being sick. ‘‘I just wanted to check on you, I’m not… disturbed. It’s okay.’’ 

Your half reassurance works barely, as she tries to lower the voice of her sneezes after that. And everytime, a drip adds to your growing guilt. As Heejin is younger than you for three years, and you have been working here longer than her, it puts some stairs between you two and now with that, you fix the ice between you two. The ice that you have been trying to melt from the first day she was here, and now, thanks to your pregnancy hormones, it started to build once again. Not just with Heejin, but everyone around you was walking on eggshells around you as your rage came out of nowhere, so sudden that sometimes it even shocks you. But for a stupid reason - well, it’s not stupid as you are pregnant and that played with your emotions -, you couldn’t control the sudden change of your feelings. 

One second being calm and the other being tense did tire you for sure as senses flow through every nerve you have. Breathing exercises merely helped, and that led you to staying away from the people around you. As sometimes words come out rude before you can realise. And nobody deserves that kind of attitude, even the ones you know from your childhood. 

For that reason, you turned down Taehyung’s offer to come with you as you know that owing to his nature, he will do something silly to make you angry or stressed even when he does it with all his good intentions. Some days, even when you are in your usual state you can’t stop being bothered by him, and you had no intentions to taste it today. Which, nothing was normal in your current mental state, so that’s for the best. 

Driving past the now familiar streets, you learned a new thing: Driving with a jean without opening its button can be hard, as you have to undo the button while your stomach growls in need. While your stomach become visible, looking like you ate too much for your stomach to handle, sudden thirst for stupid cravings increased day by day. Sadly, it affected your friends as much as you. 

In the middle of night, you woke Yoongi up for him to get you apples, pickles for Taehyung and last but not least, ice cream for Namjoon. As your cravings decide to choose the oddest times, three of them find the solution to fill your fridge until there is no space left. Well, after you sat on your kitchen floor and cried they had to eat some of them with you, as they basically called you fat by doing that, and paid for it. For them, they just wanted to make sure you get what you want but at this point, what they thought barely mattered. 

‘‘Okay, that was tiring.’’ you whispered through your exhale, while parking the car. For the records, parking turned into a hell show for you as going further and back, further and back, further, further and back has your nerves strain like a string. Though, you never liked it anyway. You were ready to leave your car, but the ringtone of your phone cut the act. 

‘‘Hey, mom.’’ 

‘‘Nope. Your voice sounds the same, rather than I thought so.’’ sighing, you brushed your face by your palm. Words like a needle on the skin, your mother always knew how to use them. ‘‘Well don’t ‘ahhh’ at me. As we barely speak, I obviously expect to forget your voice, tell me if I’m wrong.’’ 

Nodding as if she is able to see you through the phone, you put your head on the wheel. She was annoyed as it was very clear by her high and thin tone. 

‘‘Yes, Ma’am.’’ your reply earned another high pitched warning from her so you had to calm her between your giggles. ‘‘Okay, okay… You’re right, Mama. I should call you more but you know work and everything keeps me busy. But I will try my best, promise.’’ 

‘‘Apology accepted. But even though I know you prefer to talk about work, and the video thing you adore talking about, I’m most likely interested in my baby’s baby. So, how’s the pregnancy going?’’ 

This is the exact reason why you didn’t call her more than you did. As she is very interested in your life and interior with it, of course pregnancy will be the same. And you couldn’t ignore the things you can as she will talk about them, will want to know about them and give some advice from her past experiences. Not that you will need any of them, but of course as you postponed everything, you did the same thing to this topic, too, and left your mother in the dark. You will run as far as you can. 

‘‘They called games, not video thing but it’s your choice.’’ while thinking of it itched your tongue, you swallowed all the tensing thoughts down, and ready yourself to talk. ‘‘And the… pregnancy is going good if we don’t count the constant eating, peeing, crying, being tired twenty-four-seven, not fitting in my favorite clothes and all the pain it put me through.’’ 

She laughs as if you just told the funniest joke she heard. Cocking your brows, you run through what you said to make her laugh this much to fail. 

‘‘Ohhh, my baby. Stop talking about this as the things are all bad. You have a baby in your belly, your baby. They will become your everything, and mostly good things because you will love them more than anything you can. Believe me, I could die in return for your laugh. A bubbly, vivid laugh. Ahh… remembering it made me soft, right now.’’ 

‘‘Trying to be unbiased about gender, I see?’’ 

‘‘Well, I don’t want to affect the baby.’’ 

Though you want so bad to ask how that could actually affect the baby, you stay silent. All the baby talk is already pulling you down, it is better if you can stay out of the gender topic as much as you can. Not that it mattered, you thought. 

‘‘What do you mean? Why it wouldn’t matter darling?’’ 

Huh? 

Clearly, you weren’t thinking, but murmuring under your breath as your mom heard it. When you hit your head on the wheel, the horn startles you both. Fixing your posture, you answered your mother’s hurried question. 

‘‘It was horn, I’m in the car. Yes, yes I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m at the hospital- No, no- Mom, for the appointment. Yes… yes, for the baby. I will talk to you later, okay? I will call, I promise- Yes, I promise. Okay, love you, too.’’ 

You sigh once again. A loud one. 

You do hate lying to the woman who would do anything you want, but you know she is not ready to lose her grandchild, yet. You are not ready for the speech you will receive, also. Not that it will be harsh or critical, you just are not ready to accept the whole thing. Yes, you still had problems with the whole pregnancy thing even though you made your mind with adoption. You still had thirty weeks to go, and that won’t go fast. Not in a normal time, or in the pregnancy. 

Head full of blurring thoughts, you missed the man who shakes his hand from afar. The black haired man’s smile faded as you passed by his side without sparing a glance. Too busy with thinking how to calm your mother after you give her the news. The news that she won’t have a grandchild anytime soon. Fuck… that’s gonna be hard. 

Well, maybe not hard as much as the door you decide to welcome it with your face rather than opening. A loud thud, and muffled curse under your breath, instinctively you checked your nose if there is more than the pain you feel, as there is no blood you calm down, shoulders drop their usual place. Apparently, you were conscious enough to lead yourself to the floor where your doctor’s office, past the stairs, and find his door but when it comes to open the door you fail. Tears sit on your eyelids at once as you close them due to the pain that crushes your sight. Trying to massage your nose bridge barely helps but giving it a try won’t hurt, you think. 

‘‘Oh my, are you okay?’’ from your closed and blurred eyesight, you can’t choose who is the one talking but his voice lets you know that he is your doctor, Seokjin. ‘‘I heard a loud thug but couldn’t understand it was a human until you groaned. Are you okay, you bumped your nose? Let me get a look at that.’’ 

Not forgetting to thank him while he guides you inside his office, now you are able to open your eyes and set the tears free as they go down. Seokjin sits you on the white sheeted chair, handles your head to go right and left as he scans your face and nose behind creased eyes. He looks really concerned, more than you, and somehow it puts you on a stage where you feel like you have to make him sure that you were okay and nothing was wrong. It still feels weird when someone gets concerned over you more than yourself, as who would care for someone more than one’s self so it’s still vague. 

‘‘I-I’m actually okay. I didn’t hit that hard as it sounds, it doesn’t even bleed so…’’ wry smile is all you offer him as your voice trails down when his eyes meet with yours, a bit keen rather than you thought they will. 

Seokjin sighs with a line between his brows but he lets go, and when he puts a decent distance between you and himself, professionalism settles in his features as he adjusts his tie. 

‘‘It does look okay, but make sure you put some ice when you can as it could leave a bruise behind.’’ he smiles, both sweet and very technically. As he practiced it for every client he had and now performing it without any difficulties. It looks natural. ‘‘So, tell me how are you feeling? You should still have the early pregnancy symptoms such as morning sickness, sleep issues, and more likely they will hang around for a few more weeks. But it’s more important if you have a symptom that comes unnatural or unbearably painful for you?’’ 

After taking two deep breaths, you feel ready to give him a reply. Nose still throbs by the hit but it’s faint now. 

‘‘Uhm…- yeah, other than the ‘expected’ symptoms, I don’t feel like something is wrong, or not supposed to happen. No more painful urination, though I still need it frequently.’’ you grimace lightly as you share, shifting a bit. ‘‘But yeah, I’m okay.’’ you try to wipe the fresh embarrassment with the non glowing smile you had in your storage. Probably he should but you still don’t know if he needs to know that you choose adoption. As he is your doctor, and the one who is taking care of you and the baby, you know that he must know about it, but unpleasant eerie stops you from doing what you should.  

Old habits die hard, that’s for sure. 

‘‘Excellent. It’s good to hear that everything is going on it’s way, and today, as now you are in the tenth week of your pregnancy, I’m recommending you a genetic test in case there is any birth defect.’’ 

‘‘What is that?’’ even though Seokjin was done with talking, you utter so fast that it feels like you interrupted him, as you shut your mouth with wrinkled brows. It was just getting tiring day by day with all of these tests, things to do and not to do, being extra careful because you have another living creature in you to take care, more than yourself. No more selfish, damaging, stupid choices can be done as your body no longer belonged to you. At least not only to you and this was really, really tiresome. 

As he was expecting this, Seokjin comes up with some papers as you can understand them. ‘‘As I said before, it’s a test to acknowledge any kind of defect in the baby. These tests take two forms: screening tests and diagnostic tests. And a screening test tells you the likelihood that your baby could have a birth defect; a diagnostic test tells you with more than ninety nine percent certainty whether the baby has the disorder.’’ He explains more as you take the papers from him, scanning the words but they are almost identical as Seokjin continues with his further explanation. The blank eerie gets heavier and heavier the further he talks, and when he comes to the risks, it feels like your pulse palpitates on your throat. Tearing your eyes from the papers that sit on your lap, you stare at the man who is still talking. 

‘‘There is small risk of miscarriage, that’s why you need to carefully consider tha advantages and the disadvantages of these test before you make any decision, even it’s small.’’ 

A slap to the face, a weight falls on your stomach after Seokjin is done with his statement. Mouth hangs open, you stay still, silent as the Doctor waits patiently, now he is behind his desk, sitting his hands intertwined. As if he knows the new information would put a heavy dullness in you as he searches your every movement, yet you gave him hardly any. 

‘‘Do I… have to?’’ 

The idea of taking these tests would be tiring is there but the cause of your nausea is not just that. More likely, it’s the idea of losing something. Even though that something doesn’t belong to you because you never wanted it, and nothing has changed since then. Whether it's the guilt of knowing everything caused because of your recklessness, or it’s because you feel obligated to give the baby a good life due to your current maternal instincts - you hardly say you had one -, whether it’s beside you or far away from you, you feel the suffocating necessity. Even if the risk has one percent chance, you can’t take it. Maybe it’s odd to push your one percent chance to become free with the back of a hand, but that would be running away, and both of you already had one runner in your lives, and the baby wouldn’t need another. 

‘‘I know it sounds scary but you can take your time, you don’t have to do it now. You can search it a bit more about the cons and pros but I never had any problems with my former clients if you need any consolation. And you can always ask for me more.’’ 

Chewing your bottom lip, you still look at him in the eye like you need to give him an answer. You do trust your doctor but that doesn’t mean that you purposely rejected the idea of getting abortion while you deal with an unwanted pregnancy only to come across with a risk of miscarriage. Of course it is always there whether you do the test or not, but that's nearly a consolation. 

Nodding, you put all the papers in your bag before leaving the doctor’s office. Biding your goodbyes after ending with this week control. 

You come to the hospital with a dazed head, and you were going to leave it even more wrecked. But you just needed some air, somewhere to ease the wave of emotions that is going through your head. To catch your breath, you adjust your route to the cafeteria in the outdoors. Maybe, that could help you somehow. 

Not temporarily, but taking fresh air in your lungs somehow helped you. The phone call you had with Taehyung while you were at the verge of tears, too, and you sit in the cafeteria during all of these. Mimicking the doctor's words to your friend and Taehyung had listened to you, hang on your every word as much as he can on the other side of the line. Tried to console you, said that things will be alright and nothing bad will happen as if he was as sure as his name. And momentarily, you believed him. Both because you needed it, and he was being a good friend and you didn’t want him to feel useless. 

For good or ill, now, your heart is resting in ease. 

Well at least it was until you see a glimpse of dark uniform in the corner of the wall, and then a familiar face you haven’t seen in a while. A smile that softly shaped as heart, causing your heart to palpitate fast but in a much different way than the news you learned today, or the idea of your mother's future disappointment. It’s more thrilling and in a way even scarier than the other two options. As the opposite of how familiar the face is, the reason for your heart going this insane was abrupt. Even odd when you think the very less time you spent with the owner of the familiar face, yet it was there, forcing you to gulp down, consume every emotion he forced you to feel. 

Contrary to what you expect - and you didn’t know why you were expecting him to be happy after seeing you - his face falls, the shape of heart shutters around his mouth. And to your shock, it put needles somewhere near to your chest. 

The last time you saw him, the atmosphere was intense as you shared things that normally you wouldn’t do with a partially stranger but with him even though feelings were gloomy, you weren’t uneasy. And to you, when he was consoling you, internalizing what you were telling him, he wasn’t disturbed. At least he didn't look like that. But, the more you size him up, the more you get sure of his strange disturbance. And it did burn. Smoke choked you down, and put tears on your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones…

Not aware of your action, you caught your hand in the air, in the middle of a shake as Hoseok greeted you by the tiny bow of his head. And expecting more cutted harsly, as a knife in the gut. 

Whether it’s because of your blind act, or whether he feels obligated, Hoseok comes closer to the table you were sitting, leaving the person behind he was talking to before he saw you. With every step, you breathe another air to gather your confidence a bit high, but it’s useless as your hands start to tremble under the table, fortunately away from his sight. 

‘‘H-hi,’’ no matter how much Hoseok tries to sound friendly, it’s not, and you can hear in his voice as it comes out broken. His eyes are still deep and candid but not glowing the way it fascinated you when you first saw him. Still, you greeted him with a tight smile, wave of your hand small. 

‘‘Take a seat-’’ pointing the available chair, you cut yourself to say something else. To correct your words. ‘‘I mean if you want… of course,’’ 

To your surprise, he holds the chair to adjust for him to sit on. But everything feels so forced and awkward that you can’t stop wondering if you said something to him and cause him to feel uncomfortable around you. Your brain works so hard to scan the memories of that day, but you fail to find something so disturbing to make Hoseok shift in his seat, a line between his brows and a noticeably insincere smile. 

It takes minutes for someone to talk first and scare the clouds away only for a moment. 

‘‘Are you waiting for your appointment or has it already finished?’’ 

‘‘Ah, yeah, it’s done. I just needed to take a moment and fresh air because…’’ your voice eventually trailed off as you realised he just asked to look friendly and probably doesn’t want to hear your whelming emotions anymore. ‘‘of stuffs, you know.’’ 

Hoseok nods, his mouth thin as a line, and even though it shouldn’t, it breaks your heart. Yes, this man owes you nothing, and of course he doesn’t have to sit there and listen to how sorry and depressed you feel over the things doctor Seokjin have told you, but it still hurts to see him this… joyless. The curiosity burns deep and wild as you desperately want to know what the hell you did to make him this anxious, but your mind barely helps as you wander in the empty field. 

‘‘I should probably get going-’’ 

‘‘It’s been a while-’’

Words clashing and drowning one another, silence takes over and Hoseok abruptly stops above his chair as he was about to leave before you parted him. And now he looks at you with wide eyes, fear in his chest growing big as your bottom lip trembles for only a second but he catches it. 

He sits back on his seat with hands on the air. ‘‘Oh, yeah, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.’’ he says but you know it’s out of pity, and you would rather die than crumbling under his gaze. So you shake your head with a false smile, though hammers work in your chest. 

‘‘Ah, don’t mind me. Go ahead, you are probably busy and have so much to do. So, you can leave, seriously.’’ 

‘‘No-, no, no, Y/N. I’m sorry, I want to stay and talk to you, really. I really am sorry for acting rude.’’ 

Maybe because the look on his face, or the warm tone of his voice, you decide not to pressure him to leave after you ask if he really wants it for a second time. But he nods and smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes, a hot pink blossoms in you. 

Though, before either of you can say anything, a touch at your back stops you. You hear the breathy voice before you turn your head. ‘‘Ahh, finally I found... you. Care to explain why you are-...not picking your phone?’’ 

And when you turn over, you see a panthing Yoongi. His hand on his knee and looks at you with concerned gaze. Then, they leave you only to land on the man on the other side of the table, and Yoongi’s eyes go wide. 

He extends his hand in a non-moving shake to the air. ‘‘Oh, hi. Sorry to butt in.’’ he stretches his hand towards him, the ghost of a smile appears on his lips. ‘‘It’s Yoongi,’’ 

Voice deep, and it takes long to draw out when the man in dark uniform mirrors the act. ‘‘Hoseok.’’ 

[sirixsconversations]

strawberry lemonade • chapter two

warnings: like one curse word? uh this is long so 😐

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend of three years, you move out of your apartment as your best friend’s high school friend comes back to Japan for a “break”.

wc: 2k

|| masterlist || previous || next ||

For two weeks, you learned that Tooru Oikawa was very very loud. Both of you were currently staying at Iwaizumi’s while the lease was being finalized. Thankfully, you and Oikawa both made a decent amount of money, so you both could afford a bit more expensive apartment. You remembered the qualifications that Oikawa had listed off the day after you decided to move in together. 

Three days earlier

“But y/n! I’m going to be home a lot, so wouldn’t it be better to have a larger living space?” Oikawa looked up at you with a teasing look in his eyes. 

“Why would we need a large, expensive may I add, apartment? I’ll be home a lot too, but It’s not like we’ll be throwing parties or cooking-”

“Oh I plan on cooking,” Oikawa exclaimed while grabbing your hands

“You know how to cook?”

“You don't?” 

Fast forward a couple of days, and here you were, moving into a large, expensive apartment. Trying to drown out Oikawa and Mattsun’s loud laughter, you moved into the kitchen to go over things. 

Living with someone other than a significant other was hard work, no wonder why your parents didn’t want you to get a roommate off of campus in university. Sighing, you closed your laptop and got up to make some tea. 

Green tea was the one thing drink that didn’t remind you of someone. Hajime was coffee, strong and dependable. Kaori reminded you of iced coffee, like Hajime but she was sweet and cool. And of course, peach tea reminded you of him. He was calm, refreshing, and sweet. 

Your thoughts were shattered when a voice pierced through your consciousness. Oikawa. 

“You seem to be interested in that teabag, something wrong?” He moved to your left side and bent down to make eye contact. Flustered, you snapped out of your depressing trance. 

“Yeah! I'm just thinking about people and drinks,” you laughed the concern off and tried to reassure him. 

“Drinks? Do you want me to invite people here?” Oikawa seemed confused. Why would you suddenly want to drink?

You waved your hands frantically, trying to stop Oikawa from doing anything. 

“No! No, I was thinking about how drinks sometimes remind me of people,” you laughed as Oikawa cocked his head to the right, looking like a lost puppy. 

“Oh, I see! So then, what do I remind you of?” the confused face on Oikawa’s face melted into one of cockiness and teasing. Nonetheless, you answered his question. 

“Hm, strawberry lemonade.” 

Iwaizumi arrived back home a few hours after the teabag incident and walked into a very intense Mario Kart tournament. 

“Come on y/n~ let me win once, please.” Matsukawa groaned out as you beat him for the fifth time that night. Oikawa simply chuckled before getting up and greeting Iwaizumi. 

“Iwa! When did you get here?”

“He obviously just did, idiot,” You rolled off of the couch before standing up to meet the two in the kitchen. Iwaizumi motioned his head towards your open laptop that had the details of the apartment displayed. As if he was stressed, he just sat down and sighed. 

He couldn’t shake that feeling. Why did Oikawa come back? He was doing perfectly fine in Argentina, he had won against his team during the Olympics even. So why the hell was he here? How did you end up moving in with him? He tried summing it up as the shock of the breakup clouding your decisions, but as he stared at you and Oikawa picking out a rug, he felt as though that wasn’t it. 

You were different. 

~

Hajime trailed behind you and Oikawa as you gleefully ran into the elevator, excited about finally moving in. It took a few days to move in, but with all of your and Oikawa’s friends helping, things went smoothly. 

“Oh just wait Iwa! We set up a little corner for you to stand in when we have friends over!” Oikawa teased Iwaizumi while you sent a short reply to Kaori. She and her girlfriend got into a little argument, so you were offering a piece of advice, although you felt as though you weren’t in the position to give advice anymore.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi poked your shoulder and gave you a look that was full of concern. He looked worried about something. 

“What’s up?” You asked the taller male, who was looking down at your phone.

“Are you texting S-” Your eyes widened as the name of your ex-boyfriend threatened to slip past his lips. 

“No! It was just...Kaori. I was offering advice,” you gave Iwaizumi an awkward smile as he apologized under his breath. Meanwhile, Oikawa was staring at you with curiosity. As he was opening his mouth to speak, he was cut off by the sound of the elevator dinging. 

“Hajime! Let’s go!” you laughed while pulling the dark-haired man out of the elevator and towards your new home. 

The apartment was large, to say the least, but it was perfect for you and Oikawa’s antics. The living room was spacious, and per request, there was a large kitchen for Oikawa to cook whatever he wanted. The two of you had your own rooms, of course. The third room was a study for you to work in, and for Oikawa to do whatever Oikawa wanted to do. Downstairs, there was a gym (which Oikawa enjoyed, although he would train elsewhere), as well as a small bakery across the street. Things were perfect. 

Iwaizumi left after thirty minutes, claiming “I can’t stand to be around the both of you”, which led to Oikawa calling a near-by pizza place. 

“I thought you liked to cook?” you teased the tall male, but he simply laughed. 

“My dearest y/n, how do you expect me to cook with only carrots and cream cheese?” He laughed, motioning towards the fridge that had yet to be filled. Rolling your eyes, you lay down on the soft couch and breathed out. Oikawa moved your legs so that they rested on his lap before closing his eyes. Looking at your conflicted face, Oikawa tapped your legs, trying to draw your attention.”

“You seem to be lost in thought a lot, does this happen frequently?” you giggled quietly at his joke but sat up. 

“No, I’m just..thinking that things are too easy right now. It seems like everything a week ago was so hard, and that my life was ending,” you giggled as Oikawa widened his eyes in concern. 

“So why did you even move out of your previous apartment anyways? Did something happen with your landlord or something?” Oikawa questioned as he moved to grab something to drink. You sighed and shook your head. 

“No, my boyfriend broke up with me,” you laughed as you watched Oikawa choke on his water. He set down the glass and rushed over to you, scanning your face for any signs of hurt. In the years that he had lived in Argentina, he had his fair share of relationships, and he knew that people were typically sensitive. But somehow, there was nothing there but worry. 

“Well! I'm sure that you don't need him anyway, he was probably a shitty guy anyways so-”

“Actually, he was pretty amazing. There wasn’t anything to hate,” Oikawa closed his mouth in thought and was about to reply with a snarky comment, but the door rang. As Oikawa ran off to greet the delivery man, you just stared at the back of his head. 

Was this the right choice?

Across town, a man dragged his things into the house. He had been gone for the last three weeks, and all he wanted was to lay down with his girlfr-. 

Wait. 

The light-haired man sat down on the couch and remembered the words that were exchanged before he left. 

| Three weeks prior |

“....”

“y/n, I just don’t know what you want me to say-”

“Just go, okay?”

| Present time |

The man dug through his coat pockets before looking at his lock screen, not wanting to change it. He swiped up and looked for the one person that would always answer; you. 

Calling your number, he stared at the one thing that was left out on the counter. 

Peach tea. 

~

You and Oikawa were arguing over what to watch as a “celebratory moving day movie”, as Oikawa called it. 

“y/n, I have watched this movie every time that I’ve moved, trust me,” Oikawa whined as you held the remote out of his reach, making sure he wouldn’t put it on. 

“Why not Howl’s Moving Castle? When moving in with a new person, you need a new movie to watch!” you pouted. Oikawa huffed and crossed his arms. 

“I-I’ve never seen it,” he admitted under his breath. You widened your eyes and jumped on top of him. 

“What do you mean you’ve never watched it?! Are you jo-” you were suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. 

Although you changed his contact name and photo, the ringtone was personalized. Your blood ran cold as you picked up the phone. You shouldn’t answer, but you owed him after leaving abruptly. Covering Oikawa’s mouth, you picked up the phone. 

“Hi,” you answered, punching yourself mentally for being so awkward. Oikawa mocked you as you sent him a glare. 

“Oh god y/n, where are you? Are you staying at Kaori’s? I’m so sorry, I’m on my way-” you cut him off before he could go bang on your best friend’s door.

“Koushi, I'm not-”

“Koushi?! As in Sugawara Koushi?” Oikawa exclaimed with excitement. Your eyes widened as you felt your face go red. On the other end of the line, Sugawara stopped pacing around the living room and fell into a state of confusion as a familiar voice rang out from the other end. 

“Oikawa? You’re back?” You could feel yourself sinking into a state of despair as Oikawa laughed and took the phone from you. 

“Mr. Refreshing! Yeah, I'm back here while I’m on...break. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since-”

“I remember,” you could hear Sugawara’s laugh flow from the phone, and it made your heart hurt. You motioned for Oikawa to hurry up and give you the phone back, but he simply brushed you off and gave you the remote. 

“I’ve been uh, not well actually. Which is why I was calling y/n,” Sugawara sighed. Oikawa glanced over at you and waggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, humored by the man’s idiocy. 

“Ah, I see! Anyways, I’ll let you get back to your call. I’ll have y/n give me your number later so we can catch up!”

“I’m not sure-” Oikawa handed you the phone, not understanding the context behind the phone call. You glared at him as he cheerfully watched the beginning of the film. 

“I’m sorry about that, he’s uhm, intrusive,” you apologized to Sugawara, but he just brushed it off. 

“It’s fine, I knew him from high school. It doesn’t seem like now is a good time to talk though, can we discuss things later? I’ll buy you coffee or dinner, whatever you want okay?”

“Yeah that sounds fine, I’ll talk to-”

“Are you okay y/n?” he asked hesitantly, knowing damn well that he had hurt you. 

“I will be,” you ended the call, and immediately pinched Oikawa. He jumped and sent you a glare. 

“Hey what was that for? I didn’t do anything!” you just rolled your eyes. 

“I hardly think taking my phone to talk to my ex-boyfriend counts as “nothing”, Oikawa,” you huffed. His eyes widened before standing before you in disbelief. 

“Mr. Refreshing is your ex?!”

facts: 

- Sugawara is y/n’s ex ;)

- The former couple’s breakup was clean, but Sugawara didn’t mean to actually break up with y/n

- Oikawa is an amazing cook, im telling you. 

[ragingbookdragon]

The Bursting of Sunsets

Vasco x De Sardet

Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: None

Author’s Note: And we’re back at it again with my bullshit. Enjoy! -Thorne

           Vasco wasn’t particularly fond of nobility. They made him uncomfortable—and that was putting it lightly. More so, they enjoyed staring and poking at him as if he were a mythical creature instead of a normal human being. In fact, they buzzed around on the Naut ships like flies on honey. So, the idea that Vasco had to transport, not one, but two nobles, gave him the urge to have someone slam his head between his cabin door and the doorframe until he stopped twitching.

           That being said, his first impression of the Legate he was giving passage to had already intrigued him. He’d known the man all but an hour, and even then, he could see that De Sardet wasn’t cut from the usual, “I’m-a-prick-noble” cloth. De Sardet was polite, extremely so. Kind, if Vasco was feeling generous with adjectives. He’d never seen a noble smile so much as if he were genuinely happy, and yet, the Legate’s face looked as though it was going to split in two—it confused Vasco to no end.

           What also confused Vasco was how someone so obviously self-assured was also incredibly awkward. De Sardet had to be about six-foot-two, taller than the Prince and Vasco, and just barely taller than the Master-At-Arms who was with them. He was fit too, unlike the new governor who was at best, coltish. No, the Legate was solidly built, the type of build that drove men and women wild with lust-filled fantasies that kept them up all night, and Vasco could see it, even over the man’s clothing. But God, the man was so awkward—and for someone that strong, it didn’t seem reasonable. And it only got worse when it came time for them to board the Seahorse.

***

           De Sardet had certainly broken a sweat during the fight with the colossal creature, enough that he’d shirked his jacket and undone the first few buttons of his shirt to cool off faster. Constantin had taken his coat for him, still congratulating De Sardet over his phenomenal fight. However, De Sardet didn’t feel as overwhelmed with amazement as his cousin was. He felt troubled, deeply troubled. The look in the creature’s eye before he put it down stirred something in his chest. It wasn’t a look of hatred the being had given him—it was one pleading for mercy, and it made him sick to his stomach. Still, he did what he had to do, and that was push on, which was seemingly simple until he was at the brow, then the sick feeling in his stomach morphed into an even more troubling feeling.

           Constantin had run up the brow as soon as Vasco got the welcome out of his mouth, and the captain turned his attention to the other two.

           “Your cousin’s enthusiasm is most…impressive,” he observed, turning his golden gaze to De Sardet and the Master-At-Arms.

           The Legate nodded. “This journey is his long-awaited chance to prove his worth.” Something soured in the man’s face. “His father is a very demanding man.”

           “More likely he’s just happy to be free of this hornet’s nest,” Kurt scoffed, turning his attention to De Sardet. “So Green Blood, ready to get your sea legs?”

           When no response came from the man save a choked noise, Vasco couldn’t help but stare at him, watching as his face dropped and anxiety took hold.

           “I—uh…perhaps it would be best if I were to…wait,” De Sardet muttered.

           “Nonsense Green Blood. You heard the captain. The next ship will leave in months. You’re needed on Teer Fradee by then.” De Sardet gaped at Kurt, but before he could speak, the Master-At-Arms said, “One step. That’s all it’ll take.”

           The Legate let out a heavy sigh and looked down at the brow before lifting his foot. He held it there for a moment, hesitating, then he shook his head and stepped back.

           “I—I can’t do it, Kurt. I can’t,” he all but whimpered.

           Vasco glanced between them as Kurt started to sigh. “Is there something wrong?”

           Kurt met his gaze. “Green Blood’s got an irrational fear of being off solid ground.”

           De Sardet’s head shot up indignantly and he hissed, “It is not irrational! Boats—” he saw Vasco’s face pinch, quickly correcting to, “Ships sink all the time! I do not want to drown in the middle of the ocean!”

           “Your excellency, I assure you, I’ve made many voyages across the seas. I’m young, I will admit, but you’re in good hands.” Vasco encouraged and De Sardet turned his hissing onto him.

           “I’m not doubting your ability! I’m just not getting on this ship! I can’t!”

           Kurt sighed and gestured to De Sardet. “Oi, Green Blood, can I see your rapier?”

           Albeit confused, the Legate obliged. “Yes? Is there something wrong?”

           The Master-At-Arms shook his head. “Not yet.” He handed the blade to Vasco. “Hold that for a moment, would you?”

           Vasco took it and was just about to ask when Kurt motioned for De Sardet to come.

           “Come ‘ere.”

           De Sardet did, and before he could even understand what Kurt was planning, the soldier sunk his curled fist straight up into the Legate’s abdomen. He heaved forward, letting out a woosh of air, cheek brushing down Kurt’s arm as his consciousness faded and Kurt looked to Vasco.

           “If you would, give that to Constantin while I take Green Blood to his quarters.”

           Vasco could only nod, shocked that a commoner would dare strike a noble in such a fashion.

           As they ascended onto the deck, he asked, “I assume he’s not going to be happy when he wakes?”

           Kurt snorted. “He’ll be stuck in the middle of the ocean. If I’m lucky, I’ve knocked him out for at least a week.”

           “And you’re not afraid of the repercussions?” Vasco inquired.

           “I’ve known this dainty since he was twelve. If I was afraid of repercussions, I’d’ve been gone the first time I knocked him sideways.” Kurt gave him a knowing stare. “Contrary to your belief that nobles are all arsewipes, Green Blood’s a good one.”

           Vasco all but recoiled. “I never said—”

           “You didn’t have to,” Kurt interrupted, adding, “It’s all in the expressions.”

           That was all he offered before carrying the unconscious noble below deck, slung over his shoulder, and Vasco felt like he’d been verbally slapped across the face.

***

           Evening had rolled over the water, and after the fifth gasp from Constantin over the sunset on the water, Vasco was ready to shove him overboard—though he did share the sentiment. There was nothing quite like watching the sun bathe the ocean in a glow of orange as far as the eye could see. It was ethereal, and he was glad that he could witness it every day, because it always felt like the first time he saw it. Six years old and standing on the deck of Cabral’s ship, heart bursting in his chest with every changing second as the colors danced across his face. It was—

           A howl shattered the memory and every man and woman’s attention turned to the hatch and they watched in surprise as a very disheveled and shirtless Lord De Sardet, stumbled up the stairs and onto the deck. Kurt though, found it absolutely hilarious as he was wearing a shit-eating grin.

           “Green Blood!” he greeted. “Enjoy your nap?”

           The Legate spun on him, fury in his eyes and tone as he yelled, “You kidnapped me!”

           “I did no such thing. I merely manipulated your journey and arrival onto Captain Vasco’s ship.”

           “That. Involved. KIDNAPPING. ME.” He put his hands on his head, eyes directed to the open water. “Oh my god, I’m in the middle of the ocean. I’m gonna die.”

           “Dear cousin, you’re not going to die. We’ll be there as soon as you know it,” Constantin soothed and De Sardet glared at him.

           “I’m going to kill Kurt first and then you, I hope you know that.”

           His cousin smiled. “Relax. It’s not that bad. We’ll be fine.” He glanced at Vasco who’d started down the stairs from the quarterdeck. “Won’t we captain?”

           Vasco nodded. “Your cousin is correct, excellency. I swear we’ll reach Teer Fradee safe and sound.” De Sardet opened his mouth to make a retort, but Vasco added, “Your excellency, please, trust me.”

           De Sardet’s mouth snapped shut and suddenly he looked rather embarrassed with himself.

           “I—” he started before clearing his throat and nodding. “Of course.” He turned, starting to make his way back towards the hatch. “I’m going…to retire for the evening. Perhaps…sleep off this ridiculous mentality.”

           When he disappeared, no one dared laugh, yet, and Kurt looked at Vasco with astonishment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fluster Green Blood that quickly” he pulled a look that gave off an impressed feel. “Well done, Captain Vasco.”

           There was one more thing that Vasco knew about De Sardet, his feathers were easy to ruffle—and Vasco seemed to enjoy it.

[gingerwritess]

i just reread the library fic and wow i need another fic set in asgard !! i just love the idea of loki being completely in his element and dressing in his traditional royal clothes and being a prince and all that :))

oh this is so long but OH I LOVE IT SO

ok we’ve got some…prince Loki, fiance Loki, BLUSHING LOKI, and mentions of drinking and bars (and very little proofing) ok enjoy!!

―   ―   ―   ―

You’ve yet to fully grasp the fact that you and Jane Foster are making Asgardian history.

Just think of the scandal of it all: the princes of the realm of the gods, probably the most wanted husbands in all the realms, who’ve been in many a wanting eye through their years…

And they both picked humans.

Migardians, from the “gods are sent here when they’re grounded” realm, the universe’s middle child—the one the gods until recently didn’t mind to just ignore.

You’re sure the All-parents are thrilled. Between the first time you met Odin through now, his smiles remain strained, and you can’t exactly miss the multitude of pointed, stern looks that Queen Frigga throws his way.

All that aside, it’s still you, the mortal, who’s lounging in her own private bathing chambers of the palace, an old book reading “Courtship: Aesir Tradition” in hand.

The room is bigger than should be considered appropriate, the tub itself rivaling even the nicest swimming pools you’ve ever seen. Rows upon rows of faucets fill the in-ground tub with streams of water that the chambermaid had informed you will hold their temperature over time, and the sweet-smelling bubbles that lay atop the water float through the air to fill the entire chamber with the scent of dark roses and enchantment.

A bubble bath in the land of the gods. One doesn’t exactly say no.

Choosing which soap to use may have been the biggest struggle you’ve had to date—one of the ornate mirrors on the stone walls had opened to reveal probably a hundred differently coloured glass vials, each with a small rune scratched into the front.

The first vial you’d uncorked smelled distinctly like burnt marshmallows, and you’d quickly tucked it back onto the shelf.

Sickeningly sugary, it might not be the best idea to tempt Loki’s ridiculous sweet tooth with yourself during your stay.

Frosted evergreens, heavy, sweet vanilla, the coconut waves on a beach, a musky, leathery scent and you’re left swooning, wrapped in a towel as the tub fills behind you.

One vial, one left uncorked, you lift it to your nose and grin to yourself—that’s the one Loki must use.

Probably best that you don’t use the same, otherwise you’ll be smelling like Loki smothered you in some corner and followed you to bed, which might not be the best rumor to spread, given the dirty looks you’re already getting when the ring glints off your hand.

You settle on a small red vial. It smells like jasmine in the rain and compliments the dark, musky, sweet scent of your royal fiance perfectly.

It turns the water a rosy colour when you pour it in, the sweet scent filling the entire chamber, and you lower yourself into the warm water and break back into your book.

Per ancient tradition, gifts are typically shared between the two to be wed. A small knife or dagger is to be expected, and—

The heavy door bangs open and you shriek, nearly dropping the book in the water.

Loki gasps, coupled with your own shout at him to “avert your eyes, your majesty!” and he claps both hands over his face, spinning on his heel to turn his back to you.

“Why don’t you knock?!”

“I didn’t think you’d be bathing!”

“And what else would I be doing in here, dipshit??”

Loki’s shoulders dip. Oh, he’s laughing.

“Did you really just tell me to ‘avert my eyes?’”

You chuck the book at him, but it falls flat before it hits him. “Shut up, idiot.”

Taking a couple backwards steps towards you and the tub, he bends to pick up the book, turning it over with a low hum.

“Courtship? Do you intend to court someone, m’lady?”

“I do indeed,” you reply, resting your elbows on the edge of the bath and staring at his back. “There’s this one prince I just can’t get out of my head.”

“Annoying sort of fellow?”

“The worst. He’s nosy, too, and a little perverted, he likes to barge in on people while they bathe.”

“Sounds like a charmer to me,” Loki says, and you can hear his grin. “You should court him to the day he dies. And maybe…allow him the honour of turning around?”

“Get out,” you laugh, splashing water at his booted feet. “Why are you even in here this late? I distinctly recall, your majesty, our curfew for being seen together is precisely midnight.”

“Ah, yes…yet both of us are still awake.” Still turned away from you, Loki lowers himself to the ground at the edge of the bath, crossing his legs under him and flipping through the book. “And we’re together. Positively scandalising.”

You scoop up a handful of bubbles and smear it over his hair. “Seriously, Loki. What are you doing in here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“I have a plan,” he answers, leaning back on his hands with a sigh. “A grand, evil plan for the two of us irresponsible lovebirds to get into some trouble.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. Have you ever tried Asgardian ale, darling?”

You suppress a shudder. “That’s not what they served at dinner, was it?”

“No, no.” His head turns ever-so-slightly to the side - the curl of his lips is visible, and you sink lower in the water to stay covered. “That was clearly boar’s blood, sweetling.”

You smack him upside the head. 

“Kidding,” he laughs, reaching behind him to grab your wrist. “I’m joking. That was Alderblóm nectar. Not to your liking?”

“It was sour,” you huff, trying to no avail to tug your hand from his grip.

“The trick is to have only a few drops of it in a flagon of liquor,” Loki nonchalantly says, absently twirling your ring around your ring finger. “Drown it in a sweet alcohol and it tastes much, much better.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Now let me go, please, and get your royal butt out of here so I can finish my bath.”

“But you haven’t heard my proposition.”

“And what might that be?” Your head drops to your free arm, resting on the edge of the bath. 

“You finish your bath,” he hums, reaching behind him with his other hand to try and find you again, but you duck away with a laugh. “With my assistance, should you request it, then I whisk you off on a forbidden adventure that I’m certain most of Asgard would deem inappropriate.”

“Coming from you, that sounds like a terrible idea.”

Loki laughs, hand still searching. “It is, I can promise you that.”

You grab his wrist, pressing a kiss to the cool skin there. “You better watch it, your majesty. Keep your devilish hands to yourself.”

“Mm…no, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Gonna have to. I’m following the rules, sunshine, if I’m going to be an honorary princess of this realm, I have a lot of impressing to do–”

“Queen,” Loki butts in. “Princess of Asgard, yes, but practically Queen of Jotunheim.”

“Damn, I did good.” 

His head falls back with a laugh. “As did I. Somehow. Now, will you come with me?”

Back still turned, he lifts your hand to his lips, placing the first soft kiss to your knuckles and another over your ring. 

“You’re really hard to say no to,” you sigh, leaning your head against his back. “I’ll go, but you’re going to teach me the rest of what I’ll be missing in my book, okay?”

An excited grin lighting his face, Loki picks up your book with a playful scoff. 

“Courtship? Easy,” he declares, pulling himself to his feet and snapping the book closed. “Hold hands. Speak kindly. Respect and support each other, and…oh, I’ve forgotten one.”

“I read something about a dagger–”

“Mm, yes, the royal tying of the tongues.”

Even facing away from you, he can feel your unamused eyebrow shoot into the air. 

“It’s…ceremonial. Can’t get around it. I’ll have to demonstrate—”

“Get out,” you groan, an undeniable warmth spreading through your chest when he laughs. “Get out of here before I change my mind, idiot, I’ll be right out.”

He sulks to the door, resting his forehead against it for a moment with a dramatic sigh. “I’m only a shout away,” he reminds you. “Just outside this door, all by my lonesome, feeling oh-so unloved…”

“I’ll be right out, Loki.”

— — — —

He’s lounging on your bed when you walk out, a softer-than-silk robe wrapped tight around you, and his scalding gaze tracks your every move as you fish your pjs out of your suitcase.

“I’m not wearing anything fancy,” you tell him, spinning a finger at him to turn around. “I was planning on sleeping, but alas.”

“Duty calls, hm?” He obliges you, back turned so you can change. “That’s quite alright. Where we are going…it’s not exactly high-end.”

“And where are we going?”

“Firstly, the stables. Quietly.”

Once you’re ready, he pokes his head out the door, giving the hallway a quick check before ushering you out of the room. 

A giddy Loki is definitely a rare sight, but here he is, grinning to himself and holding onto your hand tightly as you sneak down hallways and duck into hidden outcroppings whenever a guard clanks by.

These two, their golden helmets gleaming in the candlelight, glide past the two of you as you hold your breath, pressing yourself to the wall.

“Can’t they see us?” You whisper, sure that if the turned their heads in the slightest, the two of you would be caught. “We’re just standing here, can’t they—”

Loki brings a finger to his lips, then beckons you towards him around another corner.

A quiet step and your other foot touches down, soft and slippered, and you bolt into Loki’s arms with a giggled sigh of relief.

“To all eyes but mine, right now, you are concealed,” he explains, arm sliding around your waist. “You’re marrying a master sorcerer, darling, lest you forget that our sneaking is just beginning—”

Feet practically screeching to a stop, you clap a hand over his mouth.

Look.

Loki follows your finger, eyes widening when his gaze falls on his mother, lounging gracefully along a sofa, head on her hand and nose buried in a book.

Not a sound, not a single sound, Loki mouths, grip tightening on your hand as he inches along the furthest wall.

You’ve never seen Loki looks so…not exactly scared, but cautious. Like he knows someone has more power than him.

But with the grip he has on your hand, his focused, anxious gaze, and constant shushing, you have to bite back a giggle—it’s not like Frigga can ground him anymore, right?

“You’ll need a cloak, dear.”

Loki freezes. You run into his back with a thud, still trying to smother your laughter.

“G-good evening, Allmother.”

She doesn’t even bother to look up from her book, a playful smile on her lips. “Don’t pass the throne room until you’ve strengthened your charm, Loki. Odin is still awake.”

“Are you going to tell?”

It’s a child’s question, nervous and defeated, and you fall head over heels for the innocent twinkle in Loki’s eye.

“Tell what?” She smiles, winks. “I’ve seen nothing.”

The queen waves a hand towards the two of you, and a thick cloak of dark green floats down around your shoulders, fastening itself under your chin with a golden leaf.

“Oh, thank you,” you quickly blurt, awestruck. “Thank you, your majesty!”

“We’ll leave you be,” Loki says, grabbing your hand again—this time with an excited little grin and a mischievous spark lighting his eye. “Thank you, Frigga.”

When she does look up from her book, she smiles kindly at the two of you with a nod, and Loki bows his head ever-so-slightly.

“Mother.”

You suppose it would be inappropriate to yank him into a smothering kiss right now.

But you do, the moment you’ve run through the palace gates and into the dark stables, grabbing his wrist and crashing into the kiss, chest to chest and already out of breath.

His eyes are slow to flutter open when you pull away, the hand behind his neck not letting him get much further away from your lips than needed to kiss you again.

“What was that for?”

“Everything,” you whisper, lips brushing over his. “I’m proud of you.”

He just laughs, awkward and adorable as ever.

“Let’s leave, before the guards come looking.��

The ride on horseback seems ridiculously short, with how fast the horse moves, leaving you scrambling to hold tight to Loki’s waist.

It’s begun to rain, drops whipping past you as the two of you fly through a lush grove of trees, straight through a shallow river that stains the hem of your cloak; your cheek pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, only a bridge stands between you and a smaller city. Smaller, but just as beautiful as that of the palace.

Thankfully, the horse slows as the lights come into view, slowing to a cheerful trot. Even as late as it is, this little town is still bustling with life, and Loki gives a small wave to a bundled-up child staring as your horse trots by.

“This place is cozy,” you remark, finally able to loosen your grip on him—but only a little.

“I haven’t been here in years.” He guides the horse down a narrow street, bright, flickering lanterns lighting the way. “This was the stomping ground for Thor and I when we needed to get away from the royalty of the palace. The city never sleeps, and they’ve always respected a person’s secrets.”

“Secrets?”

“Well, Asgardian sixteen year olds weren’t technically supposed to be drinking yet. Much less if they are princes.”

“You little rebel,” you laugh, and hug him tighter around the waist. “Always one to break the rules.”

“Not breaking the rules,” he corrects with a chuckle, bringing the horse to a stop. “Just bending them.“

With that, he slides off the horse’s back and reaches for you, helping you down to the ground, mud splashing onto your ankles when your feet touch down.

“Hopefully, no one will recognise us.” Loki draws the hood of his cloak over his head, and you quickly follow suit.

“Is it a problem if they do?” You ask, not quite liking the concern in his voice.

“Perhaps,” he answers gravely, then turns to you with a bright smile. “But no matter. I won’t let anything come even close to harming you.”

Then he marches towards the door of a small, run-down pub, hand intertwined with yours, leaving you sputtering after him.

“H-HARM ME?? Loki! Loki, what are you—what’s going to harm me??”

The wooden door to the pub conveniently crashes open right in time with a roll of thunder, and the entire rowdy pub screeches to a silent halt.

All staring at the two of you in the doorway.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” the bartender gasps. “Loki.”

“Damn.”

The pub, cozy and crowded, bursts into an uproar.

“What the hell is this?” You shriek, ducking behind Loki as a glass crashes to the floor.

“They recognised us,” Loki replies. “And that’s our cue to leave.”

He ducks under another glass and ushers you to the door, wincing as a plate shatters against the wall, but the bartender, a burly, hulking, trunk of a man, steps in front of the door.

“Loki Odinson,” the man tuts, crossing his arms. “What would a prince like you be doin’ in a place like this?”

Loki’s grip on your hand tightens. A knuckle pops.

“Bjarke!” He feigns sudden glee, reaching up to clap the man on the arm. “So lovely to see you again. We’ve just come for a drink, my good man, could you serve the royal family once more?”

“I don’t have t’ serve you nothin’.”

“We are, ah, naught but travellers,” Loki laughs, voice smooth and calm—but the grip he has on your hand tells you otherwise. “Treat us as nothing else, nothing more than any other traveller with a thirst to quench.”

A compelling argument, you’re sure, with the two of you in gold-adorned cloaks—and your worn-down pjs, which you’re sure scream nothing short of “entitled midgardian.”

“Ah, is that what y’ are?” The great lumbering man sneers, moustache curled. “Not here t’ complain any longer, are you?” He spreads his arms, casting a slow look around the crowded, silent pub. “The prissy prince has returned, folks. Get ‘im a napkin for his royal buttocks before he has us all beheaded.”

Raucous laughter goes about the dim room, and you tug on Loki’s arm. “Let’s just go,” you murmur. “We can just get something from the kitchens. It’s not worth it.”

In a perfect world, you’d like to think he considered it, at least for half a moment, but his jaw clenches and brow furrows and you know it’s a lost cause.

“Don’t tell me you’re still going on about that one little hiccup, Bjarke.” Voice dropping, Loki takes a step towards the man blocking the door—dragging you along with him, keenly aware of the knife in the cutting board behind him and the glass mug in his hand.

“Oh, I am,” Bjarke sneers, meeting Loki’s advances with his own until they’re nearly chest to chest. “Y’really screwed me over, for a good long time of this business’s life.”

There’s a few scattered nods and murmurs of agreement, and you’re left mind reeling with ideas of just how badly Loki could’ve offended this little pub.

“Look,” Loki tries again, this time thankfully raising his hands. “My fiancé and I only came for a drink and to be unbothered for one night, can’t we move past this—”

“Fiancé!” The man roars, banging his fist against one of the support beams above him. “The ‘lil Loki has himself a fiancé, doe’n’he? Well, I’m just glad this time he brought his own whore—”

“That’s quite enough, Bjarke,” Loki cries, and you gape at him in surprise—he sounds desperate. “Please!”

“Loki, my boy, Loki,” he chortles, wrapping one giant arm around Loki’s shoulders and the other around yours. “We kidd. All is forgiven, my boy, you and yours’re welcome ‘ere, anytime.”

Loki lets out a quiet sigh of relief, sagging slightly under the weight of Bjarke’s arm. It might be the lighting in the little pub, but you’re pretty sure he’s flushed deep red, too.

Leaving you immensely confused, but glad nonetheless that the hurled dishes have ceased.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, reaching around the big man to give your arm a reassuring squeeze. “I do apologise for that whole…debacle. Though I don’t regret it; this place reeked.”

“What was the debacle?” You ask, fighting to peek around Bjarke’s bulging beer-belly to see your lover in question. “And can we, um, grab a table or something? Not that I don’t love your armpits, Bjarke.”

He lets out a burst of hearty laughter, letting the two of you go and pushing you towards the bar top. “I like you,” he announces loudly, resuming his place behind the bar as the rest of the little pub thankfully goes back to their drinks. “You’re good for this kid, but I dunno if ‘e’s good for you, bringin’ you t’ places like mine.”

“This is much better than the palace,” you admit, eyes widening when he sets a mug of something down in front of you—it’s about the length of your forearm and smells like a fireplace—slightly concerning. “Well, I mean, they’re both nice, but I can only look at so many shades of green before I go colourblind, y’know?”

“We’ve eaten nearly four cakes a day,” Loki adds, eagerly accepting his own drink. “I need something salty, something spiced, anything but sugar and icing, even just for one night.”

It’s true, and even as shocked as you were to watch Loki, the king of sweet-teeth, turn down his fifth sample of wedding cake, you can’t blame him. This whole “wedding” ordeal is turning into a much bigger deal than you expected.But then again, you seem to keep forgetting that one, you’re marrying a god, and two, he’s royalty.

He talks to Bjarke with ease, smiling and laughing and drinking his drink as they exchange tales, looking every bit the young prince that was beaten out of him. 

Lifting the mug to your lips, your other hand slips inconspicuously to his thigh, squeezing lightly. 

Then you spew your drink across the bar.

“What the hell—what is that, fire?!”

Loki nearly leaps out of his seat, lips involuntarily turning up as you retch, grabbing the nearest cup of water and gulping it down.

“Are you alright?” He asks gently, waving the cackling Bjarke away. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve warned you, it tastes like fire, feels like it, too…”

“No shit,” you laugh, trying to catch your breath. “Hi, yeah, mortal here, I’ll take something that won’t melt my fragile insides, please.”

“Sorry, menskr. Here, try this.” Still fighting back his laughter, Bjarke hands you a much smaller glass, this liquid a sparkling clear. “I give this to my young ‘uns, might ease you into the finer liquors.”

“What was that other one?” You ask, giving this drink a tentative sip. “Ooh, much better.”

“The fire one was mjoðr,” Loki answers, scooting a bit closer to you with the remnants of his own laughter on his face. “Or as most Asgardians call it, Odin’s milk, óðins-mjoðr.”

“Oath-mah-joether.”

Loki looks pained.

“An age-old Asgardian, with pronunciation like that,” Bjarke retorts with a chuckle. “She’s a wise one, Ormstunga, keep ‘er close.”

“Ormstunga? What’s that mean?”

“Serpent tongue.” Loki winks. “Your kind has named me silvertongue, but here, it’s slightly different.”

“I don’t think I want to know how you got that reputation,” you decide, gulping down more of your drink—liquid diamonds, hitting your tongue, and you quickly request a refill.

Bjarke readily complies, handing Loki a second giant mug as well. “Oh, I could tell you,” he snickers, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch Loki pale.

“That’s really not necessary, my friend.”

“Oh, it really is,” you butt in, eagerly scooting closer. 

Old stories of a young, rebellious Prince Loki?

You’ll stay all night, if you have to.

“Let’s see, ‘e would’ve been just around eight-hundred,” Bjarke starts, scratching at his chin. “Sorry, ‘bout sixteen for you mortal folk. Thor ‘n his pals, they brought Loki ‘ere, wanted to commemorate his becomin’ a man, y’know?”

“We really don’t need to be repeating this story,” Loki tries again, taking your hand in his and trying to tug you away from the bar—you stay firmly planted, tugging him right back into his seat with a grin.

“Not a chance, love.”

“Anyways,” Bjarke continues, his own grin growing by the second. “They practically drowned the poor boy, I still dunno how he stomached so much alcohol, but by the end of the night, he’d become a serpent, a bilgesnipe, some kinda bird I ain’t ever seen, a woman, even, then a little boy—he couldn’t pick who t’ be, ‘e was so hammered!”

Loki grimaces, head dropping to his hands with a sigh. 

“Don’t stop there,” you beg, throwing an arm around Loki and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

“Well, I fed ‘im some bread ‘n Loki managed to get back to this form, but ‘is brother ‘n their friends wanted to set ‘im up with a lady, by that point. Fandral, that bastard, tried to hire one o’ the locals, but Ormstunga over here convinced them that he couldn’t do more than kiss a gal, much less bed ‘er—”

“Oh,” you say, realisation slapping you across the face. “Yeah, maybe I don’t want to hear this.”

“I tried to warn you,” Loki mutters, face in his hands, positively mortified. 

“No, it’s not that bad, I promise!” Bjarke bursts out laughing again, clapping Loki on the shoulder—Loki still doesn’t lift his burning face, though. “Nah, the lady agreed, o’course, who doesn’t wanna kiss a prince, ‘n Loki, barely able to pull himself off the bar—oh, did I mention? He climbed onto the bar top, fell asleep for a good while. I didn’t bother ‘im, the poor lad.”

“Thank you for that,” Loki cuts in, voice muffled in his arms.

“Ah, my pleasure. So ‘e lifts ‘imself off the bar, leans in t’ kiss this random gal, all ‘is friends hollarin’ up a storm, and ‘e does it. Lip-locked ‘n pretending to be the suave ‘lil bugger ‘e wanted t’ be.”

Your heart twists helplessly, just at the mere mention. You know it’s nothing of any importance, and yeah, it happened a few centuries ago, but still…hearing every grimy detail, you could do without.

“So Loki kissed some girl,” you say, trying to keep your voice loft and carefree. “What’s so bad about that?”

Loki just shakes his head on the bar top next to you.

“Yeah, ‘e kissed ‘er alright,” Bjarke laughs, and you try not to roll your eyes. “But then, then she goes in for more, and the whole pub’s in an uproar, yellin’ ‘n watchin’ their prince, but Loki’s done. I could tell, poor boy, ‘e was done before she even started, but instead of tellin’ ‘er so, ‘e turns ‘is tongue into a snake.” 

“He…what?”

“’E turned ‘is tongue into a serpent!” Bjarke cackles gleefully at the memory, shoving Loki playfully in the shoulder. “Couldn’t ‘ave just said ‘aye, ‘m done, get off me, whore,’ nah, ‘e turns ‘is tongue into a snake and waits for ‘er t’ scream! And scream she did, norns, I ain’t ever heard a scream like that.”

“Oh my god.” You burst out laughing, the scene playing in your mind over and over. “Geez, Loki, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did,” your fiance groans, shoving you lightly in the arm. “Are you quite done? Happy with your backstory, darling?”

“Gotta say, I’m not disappointed,” you laugh, wiping at your eyes. “I never thought it came from your literal serpent-tongue, but boy, was I wrong…”

“You’re welcome, Ormstunga,” Bjarke grins, passing the two of you another round of drinks. “Look at that laugh. Worth the embarrassment, no?”

Loki lifts his burning face, a helpless grin spreading over his lips as he watches you try to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

“Every second of it.”

“Okay, okay,” you wheeze, grabbing onto Loki’s arm for support. “But what about silvertongue, then? I gotta know that one, what’s the story there—”

Bjarke opens his mouth, moustache practically curling as he readies himself to launch into another story, but Loki lifts a hand to the lumbering bartender and stops his voice in his throat.

“That one…” Loki grins, a devilish glint to his eye. “Well, just wait until the night of our wedding. You’ll be able to answer that question yourself.”

Bjarke’s eyes widen and he flushes, sputtering behind the grin he wears—it’s refreshing, seeing the young prince happy again. Sneaking around, teasing, being in love.

“Oh my…oh, you’re troublesome, Loki, not in my scared bar, take your unholy innuendos elsewhere—”

You just laugh, pure and clear as crystal, and practically climb into Loki’s lap to snatch his lips in a kiss so sweet, the fiery liquor still on Loki’s tongue could be nothing more than honey.

―   ―   ―   ―

feel free to send me ideas!!

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy @ellaenchanted91

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part two

summary: the pogues get up to a few shenanigans, burn the shit out of some marshmallows, and have a group hug of epic proportions. the dynamic duo of kiara and sailor brings out girl power in full force before getting real about a certain golden group rule. 

word count: 4.2k+ 

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings: mentions of abuse/neglect/parental abandonment/anxiety, underage drinking, weed usage, more fluff, flirting, reference to absolute legend kobe bryant

a/n: hello again! thank you all for the great response to part one, i’m seriously blown away and so grateful for your support! <3 i’m happy y’all enjoyed reading about sailor’s adventures with the pogues! here’s part two, which had previously been combined with part one but i decided to split it because it was getting wayyyy too long (over 8k words, oops). also i’ve never even seen weed with my own two eyes before so my bad if that part’s not realistic, i did my best lol. unbetaed, so i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy!

gif credit goes to @toesure​

~Masterlist~

part one | part three | part four | playlist

part two: treading water 

The pogues spend the next few hours among the waves, surfing their hearts out until they’re waterlogged, exhausted, and hungry. As the sun starts to sink over the island they pile into John B’s beat up Volkswagen, all their boards tied together on the roof, and head to The Wreck, where Kiara’s dad begrudgingly feeds his daughter and her ‘delinquent’ friends.

That word seems pretty harsh at first but as the evening goes on and the group gets a little louder, it’s kind of well-deserved. Pope can’t seem to stop dropping his fork, sending the rest of them into hysterical laughter each time, and everyone knows when Taylor Swift comes on the radio, Sailor has an obligation to get up and dance. The fact that she knocks a chair over in her haste to show off her moves only makes them laugh harder. When they finally leave and head back to the Chateau for the night, she makes sure to put forty bucks on their table for the food and the twelve pack of beer Kiara swipes from behind the bar when Mr. Carrera isn’t looking.

While it may not look like much, John B’s house if home for more than just him. It’s a safe port for all the pogues when they get lost in the storm, a place where they can all be themselves, be real, without judgement, and it’s Sailor’s second favorite place on the island. She’s lost count of how many nights she’s spent here, sleeping in the spare room, on the pull-out couch, and the hammock in the yard (sleepovers have become even more common in the eight months since Big John’s disappearance at sea, no one willing to leave his son all alone in an empty house.).

The hammock is where she finds herself now on this warm June night, sitting beside JJ with his arm around her shoulders, clad in his sweatshirt that she unashamedly stole last year, passing a joint back and forth while the others lounge around the small bonfire, roasting the old marshmallows John B found in the very back of one of his kitchen’s cupboards and drinking beer. One of her long legs dangles over the edge, toes pushing against the cool grass as they lazily swing back and forth, watching Kiara burn her third marshmallow in a row.

“Kie, what did those poor things ever do to you?” Sailor asks, exhaling smoke through her nose before passing the joint to JJ, and the brush of his fingers against hers sends warmth through her whole body. Kiara just shoots her the bird in response as she stabs her fourth marshmallow and holds it over the fire. The redhead laughs and rests her head against JJ’s shoulder, her limbs light as air. In the distance, lightning arcs between the clouds and creates a dazzling show over the water as thunder rumbles but none of them care enough to notice.

Although she never outright asks to smoke, she also never refuses the chance to get high with her best friend and let their problems drift away with every hit, if only for a little while. Lines get a little blurry between them, too, as both become oh so affectionate with each other when their inhibitions disappear like the sun over the horizon. She sighs contentedly at the blissful feeling of his fingers running through her hair and burrows further into his side, turning so she can throw an arm over his waist and curl her own fingers into the soft material of his shirt.

“Damn it!” John B yells as his marshmallow, in the span of a few seconds, catches fire and unceremoniously falls into the flames with a hiss.

“Ha, I’m not the only one on the struggle bus!” Kiara laughs gleefully, delicately turning her fourth attempt to keep it from burning like the other three. “We can’t all be Pope, I guess.”

The other boy looks up at the mention of his name and grins, holding out a perfectly toasted marshmallow on the end of the stick in his hand. “It takes talent, Kie.” He jokes, chuckling as she sticks her tongue out at him.

Sailor can’t help laughing, too when the two of them dive headfirst into a heated discussion about the finer points of roasting things over a campfire, their voices becoming louder and louder as they try to talk over one another while John B, unfazed from his spot between them, just holds another marshmallow over the fire and ignores them completely as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Aaaand JB’s totally checked out of that particular conversation,” She says to JJ under her breath and she feels more than hears him laugh in response.

“Poor bastard,” He whispers back before taking one last hit of the joint, now burnt down to a nub in his hand, and flicking it into the fire with a shout of “Kobe!”

“Nice one, hotshot.” She shifts her head up on his shoulder as her eyes unabashedly trace his profile in the warm orange glow of the fire, from the golden hair falling haphazardly onto his forehead and down the straight slope of his nose to the curve of his lips before she’s caught -not that she was being subtle in any possible way-, his ocean blue gaze holding hers with an electrified energy that would’ve normally set her whole face aflame. She’s not Normal Sailor now though, she’s High Sailor and High Sailor has positively zero shame so she just looks up at him with a saccharine smile on her face and blesses the fact that weed makes her bold as hell. 

The flickering flames throw JJ’s features into sharp relief and highlight the dimples that she loves as he returns her smile, the hand in her hair now twirling a single curl around his finger. His free hand settles on the strip of bare skin at her waist where her sweatshirt has ridden up and her heart beats a little faster when he starts drawing agonizingly slow circles with his thumb. Her hand releases its grip on his shirt and before she even realizes it, she’s reaching up and brushing a finger along her jaw, just like he’d done to her that afternoon on the beach, and she feels the fingers at her waist press against her skin. 

It’s moments like these that make her wish she could freeze time and live in them forever. Just the two of them, looking at each other like they’re more than just friends, touching each other like they’re falling into something beautiful and all they need to do is stick the landing. The possibility of taking that final leap teases her. He’s so close, it wouldn’t take much to just reach up and make that minuscule distance between them disappear and from the way his eyes flick down to her mouth and back, she’s sure he’s thinking the same. They won’t though and for now that’s okay, but deep down she wonders just how long they can balance on the cliff’s edge before they both fall. 

As much as she’d like to stare at his stupidly handsome face all night, the weather has other plans as lightning flashes white across the sky, immediately followed by a big crack of thunder that makes Sailor jump and accidentally headbutt JJ right in the forehead. The stick in Pope’s hand goes flying somewhere into the bushes when he startles, too, and there’s a pause as everyone looks at each other before bursting into wild laughter.

“Jesus, Sail,” JJ says, reaching up to rub at the spot she hit, “you have a hard head.”

Her reply of “speak for yourself!” is drowned out by another clap of thunder and seconds later it starts pouring rain, sending the group scrambling to head back inside the Chateau before they get too drenched. The duo, in their haste, get tangled together in the hammock and nearly fall to the ground in a heap but manage to hold each other up with their hands clasped tight, both laughing so hard she’s sure the water on their faces is more than just rain.

“The beer! Don’t forget the beer!” Someone yells and John B, halfway to the porch in front of them, does a smooth 180 on the wet grass and runs back for the booze sitting beside the dying fire, sending them a lazy salute when he passes by.

“We honor your sacrifice, Captain!” JJ calls over his shoulder before they clamber onto the porch alongside a giggling Kiara.

“Oh my God, you two almost bit it so hard.” She says while wringing out her shirt, adding to the steadily growing puddle of water at their feet.

“But we didn’t, all thanks to me and my impeccable balance.” He says proudly, grinning down at the girl still snug against his side before she lets go of his hand to slug him in the shoulder.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Oh please, J, I was the one who kept you from falling on your face. Now, hold still.” Sailor orders and places her hand on his arm, using him for balance as she brushes the grass from her feet.

“Yes, ma’am.” His reply is low in her ear, his hand settles even lower on her back, and she pretends the shiver her body makes is just from the cool rain.

“You like being bossed around, Maybank?”

Her hand grips his strong shoulder a little bit tighter, and she feels his fingers tighten on her sweatshirt as he replies, “Depends on who’s doing the bossing, Flynn.”

Kiara coughs pointedly, staring at them with her eyebrows raised and Sailor feels her face begin to flush bright red because, to be honest, she’d kind of forgotten she was even there as they both let go of each other. The other girl snickers and drawls, “If you two are quite done-”

Thankfully, a thoroughly soaked John B joins them and interrupts whatever Kiara was going to say, his hair plastered to his face and dripping onto the soggy carton of beer protectively cradled in his arms.

“Mission accomplished.” He says with a satisfied smile, setting the drinks down on a chair before shaking his head like a dog and splattering rainwater on everyone, including Pope as he emerges from the house carrying a pile of towels. A few drops land on his cheek and he wrinkles his nose in disgust, wiping them away with his own towel hanging around his neck.

“I was just kidding about the beer.” He says, throwing one and smacking John B right in the face, then kindly passing out the rest. Sailor barely grabs the last one before Pope’s suddenly put in a headlock by the brunet boy, yelling something about mutiny and a captain “not standing for this” as they start to grapple back and forth. JJ pauses in the middle of drying his hair and instantly jumps into the fray after tossing his towel to the floor, the scuffle quickly turning into a three way wrestling match.

She and Kiara both glance at each other and roll their eyes before scooting by the melee and heading into the house, leaving the boys to do their thing. They quickly dry off and change into pajamas, hang their wet clothes up to dry in the bathroom, and then tiredly flop onto the bed in the spare room together.

“How long do you think it’ll take until Wrestlemania out there’s done?” Sailor asks, rolling onto her stomach and reaching to pull her phone and glasses out of her bag on the floor; under her newly acquired hat, the lightning whelk peeks through its towel and the sight of it makes her smile softly. Kiara snorts and sits up, crossing her legs and running her fingers through her damp hair. “Knowing those fools, too long.”

The redhead laughs and mirrors the other girl’s position before slipping her glasses on and glancing down at her phone in trepidation, where no new texts block the lock screen picture of her and the rest of the pogues, and she does her best to ignore the hurt coiling in her chest, the smile fading from her face. She places the phone screen down on the bedside table and when she raises her head, she’s not surprised to find Kiara, ever so perceptive, staring at her with sympathy in her soft brown eyes.

“You okay?” She asks and Sailor takes off her glasses, then pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

“Could be better.”

Lightning illuminates the room, followed by an impressive crack of thunder a few seconds later as rain continues to pound against the window and down the hall, they hear the door slam closed as the boys finally storm inside after their scuffle, still yelling like banshees. The other girl reaches over and quickly squeezes her wrist before shooting her a bright smile.

“If you ever need to vent, I’m all ears.”

She knows she means it. Aside from JJ, Kiara’s her closest friend and from the moment they met, the two had quickly bonded over being the only girls in the group and their love of the environment: she’s lost count of how many times they’ve volunteered, both themselves and the rest of the pogues, to help raise money for animals. Despite Kiara’s kook year, Sailor considers her a sister and knows that Kie feels the same about her. Having each other’s backs no matter what is just what they do.

The redhead looks away from watching the storm outside and matches Kiara’s smile, then scoots closer to wrap her arms around her in a grateful hug.

“Thanks, Kie.” 

The dark haired girl eagerly returns the embrace. “Any-”

“Comin’ through, gotta get me some of this group hug action!” JJ yells, storming into the room like a hurricane and throwing his arms around them, all but tackling them onto the bed before they even realize what’s happening.

“No, no, you’re still wet!” Sailor cries as his head rests against the back of her neck, his damp hair slowly beginning to soak into her shirt while Kiara growls, “Oh my God, get off!” 

“And miss out on this? No way.” He says cheekily and pulls them both closer, ignoring the dark haired girl’s venomous glare and attempts to pry his hand away from her arm. Sailor, resigned to her fate, just laughs and calls over his arm to John B and Pope as they curiously poke their heads in from the hall, “Get your asses in here!”

She doesn’t have to tell them twice. They throw themselves into the hug faster than she can blink and with such contagious enthusiasm that Kiara can’t fight the affectionate grin making its way onto her face, even as she threatens, “I’m gonna kill all of you.”

Sailor rests her cheek on JJ’s outstretched arm and smiles to herself. This, right here and now, is where she belongs, surrounded by the best friends she could ask for, living each moment to its fullest. No matter what comes their way, she knows this is true: as long as they all stand together, the pogues will be just fine. 

Some time later, the hug comes to an end as JJ jokingly complains about Sailor’s big head making his arm numb, which earns him a swift elbow to the stomach from the redhead.

“Weak.” She replies, smirking at the little oof he makes before grabbing his arm and pulling them both up from the bed. “Now get out.” 

“Please.” Kiara agrees and pushes John B out the door, followed by Pope. “This room is girls only.”

“Since when?” The latter asks, sidestepping to avoid JJ as he’s playfully shoved into the hall by Sailor, who replies, “Right now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause we said so!” Both girls say in unison before they slam the door shut and then lean their backs against it, giggling. On the other side, they hear Pope ask in a very amused voice, “I thought this was your house?”

John B sighs the deepest sigh they’ve ever heard before replying, “Yeah, I did, too.”

“Ten bucks they’re gonna talk shit about us.” JJ says and there’s a not so subtle bump against the door that gives away the fact that he’s got his ear pressed to it, trying to listen in on them; a fact that gets proven when Sailor smacks her hand on it and makes him stumble back with a yelp of surprise.

“Dream on!”

“You wish!”

She and Kiara call at the same time, then glance at each other and burst into another fit of giggles.

“Tough break, dude. You’ll feel better in the morning.” That was John B’s tactless way of saying he’s tired without actually saying it and seconds later they hear his footsteps disappear down the hall to his room as he makes his escape, followed faintly by the sound of his door swinging shut.

“You don’t talk about us at all, Sail? Seriously?” JJ asks and Sailor can almost feel the sheer force of Pope’s inevitable eye roll when he mumbles under his breath, “Oh my God.”

Kiara’s on the same wavelength as him because she rolls her eyes, too and all but yells, “If we say yes will you fucking leave?” 

There’s a pause and then: a slightly miffed “...yes.” along with Pope trying and failing to disguise his laugh as a cough.

“Then yes, we do talk about you. Now go.”

“Okay, okay! Jeez.”

“Goodnight, boys!” Sailor calls in a singsong voice before hearing them retreat to the living room, arguing about who gets the sleeper sofa and who gets stuck with the regular couch. When she’s sure they’re gone she shakes her head fondly (she doesn’t see why they can’t just get over themselves and share the damn thing) and turns back to Kiara, who’s already in the middle of pulling the damp comforter from the bed, her face the picture of disgust. 

“Ugh,” She shudders, tossing it to the floor and then wiping her hands on a discarded towel from earlier. “Don’t touch that.”

“No shit.”

The dark haired girl jokingly flips Sailor the bird and then joins her in lounging on the bed, watching the fan spin in circles above their heads while the storm outside continues to rage on. The silence is comforting, soothing, and goes on for so long that the redhead’s nearly sent off to dreamland by the sound of the rain before Kiara finally speaks, “Hey, Sail?”

She hums in response, slowly turning her head to face her and blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” She replies with an impish grin, but it slips from her face when the other girl shoots her a flat, unamused glance. 

“Ha ha. I’m being serious, okay?”

Well that wasn’t worrying at all. “Is something wrong?” Sailor asks, rolling onto her side to face her friend completely and propping her head on her arm, all traces of lethargy thrown out the window. Kiara does the same with an unreadable look in her eyes as she answers, “No, I’m just a little...okay, a lot curious about something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

“I mean, I kind of have to. You know I suck at lying.”

She frowns when Kiara doesn’t even react to her comment and instead starts to worry her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s kind of a personal question, though.”

Oh, Jesus. She’s gonna ask about her dad, Sailor knows it, and that’s something she’s just not ready to talk about -she hasn’t even told JJ the whole story yet and she tells him (almost) everything- but before she can think of a semi-decent excuse, or run to the bathroom, or pretend to just pass the fuck out, Kiara blurts, “What’s the deal between you and JJ?”

Okay, that’s decidedly not what she expected to hear and it completely throws her for a loop, her brain blowing a fuse in epic fashion. A long stream of gibberish comes from her mouth as she tries and fails to articulate a response because holy hell she’s so not prepared for this; she’s a listener, not a talker! She’s the confidante not the confider, the asker not the answerer, and she can feel herself getting a little sweaty at just the thought of talking about her feelings, even with someone as close to her as Kiara. She almost wishes the other girl had asked about her dad.  

To be honest she should’ve seen this coming, considering the looks Kiara’s been sending her recently and especially today, the ones that clearly meant that the dark haired girl’s seen what’s been happening and wants. that. tea. What Sailor doesn’t get though, is why she’s being so serious about it: she expects at least an overexaggerated wink or a teasing comment or two from her friend but she’s just waiting patiently, the slightest hint of mirth in her eyes. 

Finally, the redhead manages to collect her panicked thoughts enough to squeak oh so eloquently, “Me-him-nothing!” 

Kiara arches one eyebrow. “Sail, you really do suck at lying.”

Sailor flops back onto the bed and slides her hands down her furiously blushing face with a groan. “I’m not lying.” She mutters insistently but even she can admit it sounds weak as hell.

“It’s obvious there’s something-”

Something in her snaps and before she can stop them, words just start coming out with the force of a wave crashing against the shore, rough and callous. “It’s obvious there’s nothing going on, okay? Nothing. And even if there was -not that I’m saying there is- it can’t happen. That’s the golden rule, Kie.” 

Kiara looks momentarily taken aback at the redhead’s outburst and then rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before she whispers quietly, like a secret she’s reluctant to share, “Maybe I think that rule is stupid.” 

“Stupid?” Sailor glances over incredulously, the brief flash of anger aimed at her friend slowly morphing into confusion. “You’re the one who came up with it in the first place!”

“I know...” The dark haired girl sighs, tiredly running her hands through her hair, “I wanted to keep things from getting weird! It’s worked pretty well so far but I’m kind of, sort of, maybe starting to think it might not have been the best idea.”

“Why?” She asks, brow furrowing.

Kiara appears deep in thought as she keeps staring at the ceiling, working her jaw until she seems to come to a decision and turns her head to look Sailor in the eye. “Because I don’t think something as simple as a rule should be able to dictate who you can or can’t...love.”

Oh, God. Anxiety starts to take hold in her chest and she tries to keep her brain from going into five-alarm fire mode, her fingers tapping nervously against her leg. Why oh why did she have to say the L-word? Who said anything about that? Hell, it’s been a few months and she’s still getting used to her world-changing, panic-inducing, everything-clicking-into-place epiphany that made her realize that she does, in fact, like JJ as more than a friend (how and when her feelings changed, she hasn’t quite figured that out yet.). She’s not even close to thinking about love. Noticing her friend’s distress, Kiara reaches over to place her darker hand on the paler girl’s and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m not saying you love him, okay? But there’s obviously something good going on between you guys and I’m not cool with some dumb rule we made when we were twelve getting in the way of your happiness,” Her mouth curls into a lighthearted smirk, “even if it happens to be with someone as, uh, distinct as JJ.”

Despite herself, Sailor snorts a laugh and the tight feeling in her chest slowly starts to become a little more bearable as its replaced by a swell of gratitude that she has a person as wonderful as Kiara for a friend. She really did luck out in that department, she thinks, and the corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile. 

“Distinct?”

“Hey, I was gonna say idiotic but I’m trying to be nice here.” The dark haired girl says, laughing as Sailor affectionately rolls her eyes before continuing, “But you do know that if he messes this up I’ll kick his ass, right?”

“Trust me, I do.”

“Good.” She punctuates that with a massive yawn, then rolls away from her and pulls the sheets higher over her chest, mumbling, “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed. All this deep talk made me tired.”

“Big mood,” Sailor replies, reaching over and flicking off the bedside lamp, the only light now coming from the occasional flash of lightning through the windows as she rolls comfortably onto her side, tucking her arm under the pillow. Silence settles over them, dark and calm and stretching for who knows how long before she says quietly, “Thanks, Kie.”

There’s no answer. Realizing she must’ve already nodded off, the redhead’s just about to crash herself when her friend’s reply softly cuts through the silence like a knife.

“You’re not the only one I did it for.”

Kiara doesn’t say anything after that and Sailor falls asleep wondering what, or rather who, exactly the other girl meant. 

~

let me know what you think! 

taglist ❤ (i added everyone who’s comments and reblogs made me smile so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged!) : @jiaraendgame @obxlife @sunflowerbecca @maysbanks @obx-adventures @mortifiedposts @sexualparkour​ @coltonparayyko​ @heavensalreadyheres​

[rosy-night-sky]

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure Hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Warning: Suggestive themes, violence, trauma

Disclaimer: Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Tag List:  @sevenincubistolemyheart @xxqueenwxtchxx @technicolor-blues @taevkimchi @youcantbesiriusremus @vannilacake @baby-hobii @catsandstrawberries @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash @http-lostforever @jhopetypes @seesawsmin-flower @taekookandyoongi @star-gods @asifetch7​ @the-jackals​ @comicnerd557​

(A/N: Ahhhh! It’s finally here! Oh my god, it’s been months! I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this makes up for it. I tried to make this a little more angsty, but I’m sorry if it falls short. Enjoy!)

Chapter 9

Darkness. That was all you could recall in that moment. All memories and knowledge of yourself were long gone. All you could do was sink back into the comforting, warm pool of murkiness, letting all your senses and thoughts fade away like the sun at twilight. In that moment, you couldn’t remember anything, your identity, your family, your friends. Everything that made you you was washed away in the never-ending waves of blackness and calmness. For a brief moment, you didn’t want to be pulled from the soothing current of peacefulness. Was this death? Were you dead?

Then suddenly, a memory popped into your head. Your name. Then after that came another memory. Your family, specifically your grandmother setting you on her lap when you were a child. With that came a few memories like snowflakes sprinkling down before a snowstorm. The expedition. The boys, your friends. What happened to them? Where were they? You couldn’t seem to recall what occurred just minutes ago. Your mind was still a mess of muddled thoughts and recollections. 

You remembered seeing red. There was a lot of red before you fell into this black abyss. Red… red dress, red tie, red shoes, red… blood… There were also faint feelings of panic and stress hidden in your subconscious. Desperation. You saw desperation somewhere. Where was that…? Were you desperate? Did something happen? Yes, but also no… you saw it in something-- someone, more like. Eyes… you saw it in someone’s eyes. Whose? …. Jin…?

…

…….

Jin!

You threw yourself out of the drowning darkness and awoke with a gasp, as if you were actually in a sea of blackness and had finally resurfaced. Your memories came back in an overwhelming flood. Your eyes stung for a moment as light suddenly pierced them. You blinked a few moments, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, as your chest rose and fell from rapid breathing. After the bright light died down and your eyes stung no longer, you quickly took in your surroundings. At first, panic rose in your throat because you found yourself in an unfamiliar environment; but after a few seconds, you soon realized that you were back in the safe hotel suite that Jin had booked for the night. 

“Whoa! Whoa there! Calm down, y/n! You’re alright, you’re safe.”

You jerked your head almost violently toward the owner of the voice and found yourself staring into warm, familiar, eyes. Hoseok. Your shoulders relaxed as did your breathing. 

A long, drawn out breath slipped through your lips as you relaxed back into the couch you were laid upon. “What happened? Did I fall asleep?” you asked, although you knew that not to be the case. You had completely forgotten who you were, what happened at the gala, where you were. That wasn’t as normal as falling asleep.

Hoseok took out the stethoscope that was still embedded into his ears and placed it back into his black bag. “Vasovagal syncope.” He smiled when seeing your confused expression. You weren’t a doctor! You didn’t know these medical terms like they were common knowledge. “Basically, you were under stress for a long duration of time, and the adrenaline pumping within you was making your heart beat at a rapid pace. Then, once you were in the van, your body suddenly dropped your blood pressure, causing you to faint.”

You paused for a few moments, taking in all of this knowledge. “So I fainted from too much stress and the rush of adrenaline?” you clarified, leaning back into the couch slightly.

“To put into simpler terms, yes.”

You lifted a hand to your face and began to rub your temples, trying to rub awake the grogginess and exhaustion that still wracked at your body. “Makes sense. I was very stressed out for the entirety of the night, and the whole fiasco really set off my anxiety. I’m surprised I didn’t faint right when the blackout happened,” you remarked, your voice airy from lack of use. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Hoseok answered, rummaging through his belongings before pulling out a flask of clean water and handing it to you. “I’d say maybe twenty minutes. You kept coming out of unconsciousness for a little bit only for you to fall back into it. You must have really been stressed out.”

You brought the flask to your dry and chapped lips, letting the cool liquid wet your lips before taking a few gracious gulps to satisfy your parched throat and tongue. “I was. I pretty much took the reigns of that whole disaster of a situation.”

Hoseok chuckled before taking the flask out of your hands after you were finished drinking. He placed it down on the table next to you before sitting on the arm of the couch opposite to you. “I agree. Without you there, the whole operation would’ve been a failure. You really pulled us through.” He smiled graciously to you with such warmth and kindness.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a smile of your own. “The whole problem was that everything wrong happened at the same time. Taehyung went on his own without telling anyone. We ran into Mr. Akimoto. Jin passed out. The blackout happened. I needed Namjoon to get the kobae while Jungkook needed to get Jin to safety.” You sighed again while using your hand to pull down the skin of your face in exasperation. “I shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s just going to stress me out again.”

“Good idea,” the doctor chuckled. “We don’t want you to have a cardiac arrest from the amount of stress you’re going through.”

You groaned almost dramatically. “Don’t say that…” After you finished rubbing at your face, you dropped your hand to your lap and looked at the doctor. You had a bunch of concerns and questions that needed answers for. “How is Jin? Is he going to be alright? Because Mr. Akimoto told me that he had Jin incapacitated, and I didn’t know what he meant by…” Your voice trailed off as realization dawned upon you. You sighed again and dropped your head slightly forward. You could be such a twit sometimes. “The champagne… it was drugged, wasn’t it?”

Hoseok slowly nodded, his face suddenly grim. You prodded further and asked, “It wasn't poisoned or anything, right? No cyanide or anything of that sort.”

“No, there wasn’t any poison,” he answered, much to your relief. “He wasn’t foaming at the mouth, his pupils weren’t dilated, and his heart rate was normal. I did a quick checkover and found that he just ingested a sedative. He’ll be fine after he wakes up.” 

You sighed in relief, feeling a weight on your shoulders suddenly vanish. “Thank God,” you mumbled, burying your face into your hand. “I would have never forgiven myself if he died.” You lifted your head up, needing your questions to be answered. “And the others? I haven’t seen Namjoon all night. I was scared something happened.”

“Do you really want to hear the answer to that?”

That sent your heart racing. The familiar feeling of panic slowly bubbled within your stomach, causing a sense of uneasiness to settle upon you. Your eyes widened ever-so-slightly. “What happened?”

Hoseok suddenly burst into laughter at the sight of your panic. He covered his wide smile with his hand and bent over slightly as his laughter echoed in the room. “Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have worded it that way!” He laughed for a few more seconds before adding, “I only meant that the answer was going to make you really mad.”

Okay, now your panic morphed into confusion and bewilderment. What on earth was he talking about? Should you be more concerned since he said the answer would make you angry? 

As you stared at him with a look of puzzlement on your face, he finally explained, “The reason why you couldn’t find Namjoon was because…” He paused to giggle. “... was because a little fan club swarmed him asking him a million questions about his latest book. He barely even got inside the museum by the time the blackout happened! You were really lucky he walked into the room you were in when you said the codeword.”

He… he must be joking. You went through all of that turmoil and panic of possibly dying while he was signing autographs?! Hoseok was right, you were mad. No, you were more than mad. You were furious. You couldn’t believe that you suffered all of that anxiety and strife only for the historian to be off having a jolly good time with his fans! Why, you could just march over to him right now and start strangling him!

“I’m going to kill him.”

Hoseok went into a full guffaw at your comment. He slapped his leg when seeing your now enraged expression. Your nostrils flared slightly as you released a hard exhale. You looked like a bull ready to charge at the matador. 

He wiped away a tear from his eye almost dramatically and slowly wound down. “Hey, he was sort of in your shoes. He also hates socializing at big parties like the gala, and he was swarmed by a whole flock of people the moment he stepped inside.”

Fine, you supposed you could give Namjoon that. He suffered as much as you did in that regard, perhaps even more since all of the attention was focused solely on him. However, you weren’t going to let him off the hook so easily. Once you found him, you were going to box his ears. “I guess… but I’m still going to wring his neck,” you grumbled.

“Fair enough,” Hoseok conceded with a smile, “you did have to deal with a tyrant, I suppose.”

With a roll of your eyes, you moved onto your next question, “What about Taehyung? I couldn’t find him after the blackout.”

Hoseok’s smile quickly faded at the mention of the artist. He flickered his eyes away from your gaze and suddenly took an interest in the intricate wallpaper that adorned the walls. A few moments passed as he carefully chose his words. 

At his sudden silence, you began to fear the worst. An image of Taehyung’s dead body suddenly appeared in your thoughts. You clamped your suddenly sweaty palms and awaited for his response, praying to God that what he was about to say wasn’t what you were thinking. 

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to you. “Taehyung is alive, and in good condition considering what happened to him.”

You were relieved to hear he was alive, but what followed that sentence only heightened your worries. “He’s hurt?” you asked, your voice drenched with worry.

Hoseok slowly nodded. “How else were you, Jin, and Jungkook able to make your escape without any more of Mr. Akimoto’s men finding you?” 

To be honest, you figured that the three of you were able to slip away without anyone knowing where you were. But now that Hoseok mentioned it, it did seem a little odd that the only person you confronted in the hallways of the museum was that one man you knocked out in one swift punch. Mr. Akimoto seemed like a very crafty and slippery man. Surely he would’ve had men scouring every inch of the place for the three of you, especially after you gave him a speedy kick to his privates. 

“So…” you began slowly. “Taehyung distracted them while we ran out of the museum…”

There was a small pause of silence. “Yes, in a way... luckily for him, it was too dark in the room for anyone to use any firearms or knives, but taking on five men by himself was too much for him,” Hoseok explained, now standing up and wandering over to his bag. “Like I said, he’s very lucky considering the position he was in.”

“Taehyung…” you couldn’t help but let the name slip from his mouth. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so harsh to him that night. If it weren’t for him, who knows what would have happened to you and the others?

Hoseok lightly chuckled, despite the gloomy atmosphere. “You should’ve seen some of the others. He put two of them in the hospital in critical condition.” You arched an eyebrow curiously at this. “What did he do?” you asked bemusedly.

The doctor merely gave you a small smile before taking out an ice pack wrapped in cloth. “Well, he is the demolition expert.”

After that, you knew you didn’t need to prod any further. You expected those men were in the hospital with fourth degree burns. You wanted to feel some pity for them, considering that they were permanently, physically mutilated now, but a part of you believed that they received their comeuppance.

“What about the kobae? Did Namjoon get it?” you asked him, your fingers playing with the material of your scarlet red dress. 

Huh, it seemed that no one changed your clothes while you were unconscious. You didn’t know whether to be relieved that no one saw you in your underwear or annoyed by the fact that you were still in this godforsaken dress.

“Yes, but it was more like Taehyung first got the kobae after knocking a guard out, saw that you and Jungkook were leaving with Jin, passed the kobae to Namjoon, was seen by Mr. Akimoto’s men, one of his men attacked Namjoon, Taehyung helped defend him, Namjoon got away with only a sore jaw, and the rest… Well, you know the rest.”

You slouched your shoulders very slightly as Hoseok retold the story to you. “At least Namjoon is fine,” you pointed out, trying to find some bright side to all of this. “This whole expedition is taking its toll on everyone.”

The doctor chuckled humorously. “I’d say, we’re only a few weeks in and you guys have almost run my medical supplies through.”

Hoseok then returned to your side and placed the ice pack on your injured arm. It took a few moments before the coolness began to soothe your skin, and you released a small sigh at the comforting chill. You adjusted the pack a little before letting it sit on your arm. Your arm still throbbed ever-so-slightly from exerting it when catching Jin. Of course, that probably meant you injured it even further than before. Great, just peachy.

“I think I may have hurt my arm even more,” you confessed somewhat embarrassed. You expected to receive a scolding for doing the complete opposite of what he told you to do.

Hoseok hummed in thought as his eyes dwelt on the wrappings on your arm. “Yes, I figured you would after all you’ve been through tonight, which is why I prepared a bath with epsom salts to help soothe irritation and soreness in your muscles,” he disclosed. He then wrapped his fingers around the fabric and began to unravel it. 

Your skin was tender and soft after being enclosed for so long. You noticed with a sting of disappointment that your arm was still slightly swollen, despite the care and attention you’ve been giving it lately. Ugh, you wished desperately that you could find some magical cure and just douse your arm in it. However, you knew deep down that such a thing didn’t exist and that you were going to be stuck with this injury for awhile yet. Man, you just had the worst luck.

You quirked an eyebrow at Hoseok’s attitude toward you. It wasn’t unwelcomed, in fact, you loved that he was being so caring and attentive toward your well-being. However, this was a sudden change from the last time he gave you a checkup. You could still remember his skillful fingers dancing on your sensitive skin. Such a memory almost made you shiver. Almost. 

“Someone’s very thoughtful today,” you commented jokingly.

“Oh?” he wondered out loud, draping the discarded arm wrap on a nearby desk. “Aren’t all doctors supposed to be accommodating toward their patients? Or did something change and I didn’t hear about it?”

You shook your head, a soft snicker leaving your mouth. “No, it’s just… last time you gave me a checkup, you were a lot more…” Your voice trailed off as you tried to think of the perfect word to describe exactly what happened that night. Voluptuous? No, no no no, there must be a better word.

“Lascivious?” he offered, his tone still casual and innocent. You never would’ve guessed he was referring to such vulgar acts based off of his tone. 

He then took a few steps over to you, heels clicking against the floor, and bent down so that his face was very close to yours. “If you want, I could give you those painkillers I’ve been meaning to give you now.” The corners of his lips curled into a mischievous smirk.

You cleared your throat awkwardly as your head instinctively drew away from his. Your eyes wavered wildly to anything that happened to be not his face. However, this was rather hard to do given how close he had gotten. “M-maybe later,” you blurted, then internally died once your words finally processed in your brain. Later?! No! Later was the opposite of what you wanted currently.

Even Hoseok seemed surprised by your words. His eyebrows rose just a centimeter in astonishment before chuckling to himself and quickly pulling himself away from you, taking all the warmth with him. “Alright then, I’ll hold you to it,” he replied playfully.

Suddenly you stood up from the couch and took a few steps. To where? Well, you weren’t sure. You wanted to go to the bathroom to take your bath, but you had no idea where the bathroom was to be honest. “I’m… I think I’ll go take that bath now,” you announced sheepishly and started wandering toward a door you hoped led to the bathroom.

The doctor chuckled once more and followed your disoriented footsteps until he placed both of his hands on your shoulders and redirected you toward a different door. You immediately froze under his touch but nonetheless went in the direction he urged you to go. Honestly, you looked like a frightened sheep being herded by the shepherd. 

“This isn’t like the last hotel we stayed at,” he revealed with a wide, impish smile. “Instead, we have one bathroom that we all share.”

And whose bright idea to stay at a hotel with only one bathroom was that? Probably the one who paid for all of this. Ugh, you wanted to be mad at this whole situation, but you then figured that it was better to at least have a bathroom than have none like that motel you stayed at in Darjeeling. Still, you would appreciate it immensely if you had some form of privacy.

“Oh, really?” you responded dazedly, your cheeks still tingling with heat. Hoseok hummed in reply and added, “I’ll even be nice and tell the others not to bother you while you’re taking a bath. After all, your comfort and well-being are my number one priority.”

That was… awfully considerate of him. You were oddly touched by his kind and sympathetic words. Why was he acting so sweet? Well, you supposed he had to be, since he was a doctor. Or perhaps it was because he knew how much you’ve gone through recently. 

You shook your head. You shouldn’t be so suspicious of him. Hoseok has been nothing but kind to you, even if his kisses overwhelmed you.

Hoseok led you down the hallway, its walls were made from sherwood oak wood with a wooden flooring to match. The walls were carved into intricate designs that reminded you of some of the manors you visited for newspaper articles. The velvet blue curtains were drawn back to let the light brighten the atmosphere, the slight reflecting off of brass candlesticks and freshly cleaned, polished tabletops. Dear Lord, this all must’ve cost a fortune to build!

Hoseok suddenly jerked you into another room after opening the door. You released a small yelp before you found your feet padding against tiled flooring. Your eyes took in your surroundings and realized that you were now in the very fancy bathroom. True to his word, Hoseok had drawn a steamy bath for you with bubbles floating gracefully on top of the water. The bath looked very inviting, and you could feel your muscles already relaxing at the sight of it.

The hands on your shoulders abruptly left as Hoseok pulled away from you and stepped outside into the hallway. His hand latched onto the doorknob and began to close the door, but he stopped just enough to let his head poke through, giving you a warm and cheerful smile. “Have a nice bath! I recommend staying in there for at most thirty minutes. Any longer and you risk drying your skin, and we wouldn’t want that.” He then perked up with a bright, wide smile, and said, “Alright, I’ll leave you to it!” With that, he slipped through the doorway and closed the door.

You stared dumbly at where the doctor stood for a few seconds before redirecting your attention back to the appealing bathtub. Steam rose from the water in small, smooth wafts as bubbles slowly popped. Seeing how warm and inviting it was, you then wasted no time and immediately began to strip yourself of your dress, gloves, and jewelry, like a snake shedding its old skin. Once you were stark naked, you slowly slipped into the warm, satisfying water, and for a brief moment thought you entered heaven right then and there.

A small, happy sigh escaped your mouth as you settled into the water. You really did need this. The moment you stepped in you felt all your worries and tensions slip away like dust in the wind. If you did this more often, it would almost make all your frustrations during the expedition worth it. Your head tilted back and rested against the edge of the tub, your eyelids slowly closing from the waves of relaxation that enveloped you.

As you rested there, your mind began to wander toward the recent events of the museum gala. Sure, the objective was made and you managed to get the kobae, but it didn’t seem like a complete success to you. Complete success meant that no one was injured or extremely endangered, and, of course, both of those things happened all simultaneously. Jin was unconscious and could’ve been killed had you and Jungkook not got him out of there, Taehyung was injured in order to provide you an escape and defend Namjoon, and Mr. Akimoto was now searching for everyone’s blood now that he knew that you all were plotting against the Japanese government’s interest. Everything was a mess tonight, and you were extremely glad it was over.

Or was it over?

Your eyes suddenly snapped open when you heard the door open and shot up in the tub. For some reason, you instantly went to the worst scenario and briefly thought that Mr. Akimoto and his men found you, but you instantly shoved that thought away, reminding yourself that you were far away from him and his goons. 

Instead, however, you saw Taehyung slip through the doorway in nothing but a silk, blue bathrobe that stopped above his knees. He didn’t seem to notice your presence until he already stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Once your gazes connected, his eyes widened for a mere second before they relaxed while you squeaked and sunk yourself deeper into the tub, hiding yourself under the deep waters.

Your lips dipped under the water for a few seconds before you slowly pulled them above the surface, your eyes never leaving his. “The bathroom is taken,” you murmured, your arms covering your private areas despite the layer of bubbles already hiding your naked form. What the bloody hell? You thought Hoseok told the others not to come in here!

Taehyung didn’t say anything at first, his eyes trained on you for a few seconds, as if you were a rare sight he would never get another opportunity to see again, which was practically the case. He then gave you an innocent look and clamped his hands together as if to beg. “Can I share the tub with you?”

Was he serious? Was he actually serious? Did he really want to share the bathtub with you? 

You cleared your throat and finally tore your gaze away from him. “I’ll be out in the next thirty minutes. You can wait until then,” you quietly mumbled. 

Taehyung pursed his lips into a tiny pout. “But then all of the warm water will be gone! Please, y/n, it’s just one bath. I promise I won’t do anything!” he practically begged, eyes round with puppy eyes.

Normally you would be stubborn and refuse to let him in for the sake of your poor hear, but tonight you were exhausted from previous events and didn’t have the resolve to. And by God, you couldn’t resist those adorable eyes no matter how much you wanted to. “You promise you won’t try anything?”

He nodded fervently. “I promise.”

You sighed and reluctantly gave in, gesturing for him to get in while the water was still warm. He grinned boyishly and whipped off his bathrobe in a flash for you to see him in all of his naked glory.

You let out an abrupt, panicked shout at the sight of his naked form. You took in his body for only a second before you threw a hand over your eyes. “Oh my God!!!” You couldn’t believe what just happened. You just saw Taehyung naked. You just saw… Taehyung… naked. The image of his tight and rippling muscles appeared in your mind, and, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to get it how of your head. Dear Lord, he must be an Adonis with a figure like that!

A low chuckle snapped your from your alarmed thoughts. You sensed movement from him, but you didn’t dare move your hand. This better not be a prank, or, so help you God, you were going to kill him. 

You ripped your hand from your face once you sensed him dipping his foot into the tub, risking the fact that you were going to see him in naked glory again, and threw yourself back against the walls with another yelp. Taehyung only laughed at you reaction and slid down into the still warm waters with a relaxed sigh. His face tightened into a contortion of pain, probably from moving his abdomen too much, until his jaw went slack and his head was thrown back with a soothed groan. 

Don’t look down! Don’t look down! Don’t look down!

Your face burst into a wave of heat as you stared at the man sitting in the tub across from you. This was a horrible idea. Why on earth did you agree to this?

Taehyung tilted his head up and gave you a lopsided grin with half-lidded eyes that sent your heart racing. “Glad to see you’re alright,” he stated honestly.

You swallowed a large lump in your throat and felt your mouth had suddenly gone dry. “You, too… Hobi said that you got hurt during the blackout.” Your eyes wandered over his exposed chest and saw his smooth skin riddled with black, blue, and purple bruises. Your skin crawled and your stomach churned uncomfortably at the sight. Some of the bruises seemed slightly swollen from the impact and that the slightest movement would send him reeling in pain.

He hummed thoughtfully while arching an eyebrow in a joking manner. “Hm, what gave that away?” he asked rhetorically, readjusting himself into a more comfortable position.

His skin that had been underwater suddenly peaked above the surface, the light glistening off of his shiny muscles and abdomen. You quickly looked away to stare at the wall so that you wouldn’t give him the wrong idea, your cheeks becoming hotter than the water itself. Taehyung instead found your attitude and actions to be rather adorable.

You cleared your throat once more to get rid of the lump still lodged in your throat. “Why did I agree to this?” you mumbled to yourself, ignoring his question.

His lips formed a small pout, although the pursed lips seemed rather mocking to you. A tiny whine rumbled in his throat as he tilted his head to the side. “Aw, you don’t want to spend time with me?”

“We can spend time together later. Not in a tub. Naked.” The embarrassed heat that tingled your cheeks began to travel to the rest of your body. 

You never in your life showed such vulnerability to any other man. Hell, you never showed such vulnerability to any woman before, not even your friends back in London! The most they probably ever saw was you in your knickers! “What if the others came in?!” You knew Hoseok supposedly told the others, but you weren’t sure if he actually came through on that now that Taehyung was in the tub with you.

“Oh, you would love that, wouldn’t you? Which one would turn you on more if they walked in right now? Jimin? Hoseok?” His tone turned mischievous as his eyes began to darken with desire.

You gaped at him with round eyes as your heart sunk to your stomach. Oh God… he knew…

Taehyung’s smirk widened at your flabbergasted expression, seeing how you were at a complete loss for words. “Oh, yes, I saw-- well, more like heard-- your little escapees with those two. You moan really loudly, you know that, right?” he commented with a chuckle.

With that, you sunk even further into the tub, your lips submerged in the warm water. Humiliation and embarrassment filled your very core the more the artist went on. Ugh, you were fine with the fact that some of the others, like Namjoon, knew about what went on between the three of you. But Taehyung? Taehyung was the last person on earth you wanted to know about this! 

“You promised you wouldn’t try anything,” you murmured quietly, your lips peeking above the surface of the water.

Although still smirking, he listened to you and dropped the subject. “Alright, if it makes you uncomfortable, then I won’t say anything, okay?” His smirk ebbed away to give you a normal, gentle smile, which almost gave you whiplash from how quickly this was all moving.

You gave him a tiny nod before shifting uncomfortably in your spot as your eyes flickered down to the side, your arms still wrapped tightly around your chest to cover yourself up. Your feet bounced nervously in the water at a rapid pace that matched your own heartbeat, causing a small ripple effect to spread across the water. Taehyung’s gaze lowered into the water to watch your feet tap against the bottom of the tub before he brought his eyes back to take in your appearance, his mind apparently elsewhere.

“You’d be the perfect muse,” he commented absentmindedly, more to himself rather than to you.

You let out a small noise of confusion, your eyebrows knitting together ever-so-slightly. “Pardon?” you blurted. That was certainly a new one. You remembered your grandmother fondly drawing pencil pictures of you as you played in the English countryside, but never before has ever anyone wanted you to be their muse.

He perked up a little, realizing that you picked up on his mumblings. “You’d be the perfect muse.” His lips curled up amusedly at the new nickname, his fingers now lightly grazing his chin as his eyes stared into your round ones. “My little muse, my little myujeu sin…” 

“Myujeu sin?” you attempted to repeat, finding yourself only able to echo his words. 

He nodded, his smile widening at your effort. “Yes, myujeu sin, it means ‘muse’ in Korean.” He still watched your form, taking in how divine and almost romantic you looked. Your naked body submerged in water with such an innocent expression. He imagined what kind of setting you would be in. Maybe something pastoral like a field surrounded by blooming flowers. “God, the number of paintings I could make of you…  I could make a whole art exhibit with your image…”

Your breath hitched in your throat upon hearing these words. Heat blossomed to your cheeks as your stomach fluttered around with butterflies. Your heart skipped a beat as you mentally repeated these words over and over again. You stared at him as a foreign feeling suddenly flourished in your chest. It was touching how he, an artist who appreciated beauty in its finest forms, admitted that he would paint your appearance endlessly, and you found yourself wanting to engulf in his embrace. However, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you, which caused you to slip even further into the tub.

“Aw, how cute. My little muse is acting so adorable,” he cooed, grinning as your lips pressed together in a thin line.

You shot up in the tub, the water splashing around and threatening to spill out and onto the floor. “Stop saying that! I’m not cute! I’m… I’m not, okay?” you protested, your cheeks now heated from irritation as well as flusteredness. 

Taehyung cocked his head to the side in light confusion. “But you are. Why are you trying to deny it?”

It was then you realized that he was speaking the truth in his mind. Right now in this very moment, he wasn’t trying to tease you. He wasn’t trying to embarrass you. He was being honest about this, which only baffled you more.

You cast your gaze away from him, too embarrassed to remain eye contact with him. “I just don’t think I’m cute is all,” you answered back just as truthfully. 

The smile returned to his lips. “But you are. You’re cute when you get flustered. You’re cute when you look so awkward and lost. You’re so adorable when you make that squeaky noise whenever you’re surprised by something. Your laugh is the cutest thing I ever heard.” He unconsciously moved closer and craned his head down to your level to make eye contact with you. “You’re cute whenever you get that expression on your face when an idea pops into your head. You look so cute whenever you get excited…”

His face was suddenly close to yours. “And you’re so adorable when you give me that look.”

Your round eyes bore into his, your mind a complete mess at his words. Your whole body short-circuited for a moment and as you tried to process what just happened. A comforting warmth bloomed in your chest. What he just said was… sweet. Something was on your mind. A desire. You couldn’t place a finger on what it was until realization dawned upon you.

You wanted to kiss him, by God, you wanted to just kiss his beautiful face until every inch of his skin was claimed by your lips, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You weren’t poetic like the heroines in the books you read. You were an awkward newspaper reporter who never faced affection like this until a month ago. How could you say what you wanted without sounding so pitiful or awkward?

However, Taehyung didn’t need any words to see what you desired. Your eyes bore into his gleaming with need and passion as if he was the only thing that was on your mind. His heart pounded in his chest with emotion, and, before either of you knew it, he pressed his lips against yours full of want and desire You released another squeak of surprise that he oh so loved, muffled by his own lips. 

The kiss was gentle and soft at first until his need for you grew more and more until he could barely contain it. He pushed more force into the kiss, and you nearly slipped and dunked yourself underwater from the sheer force he exerted. You barely had any time to compose yourself as his lips greedily ate you up.

Water splashed around you as he roughly pushed you up against the wall of the bathtub before capturing your lips again, giving you little time to prepare yourself. All of this was a completely new experience for you. It was an experience similar to Hoseok’s, however, in the sense that they were both rough and rather dominating. But while Hoseok was teasing and mischievous with his kisses, Taehyung was very animalistic. He kissed you like his life depended on it, like you were the last person on earth he could lay his lips on.

As your mind swam with a million of hazy thoughts, Taehyung nibbled gently the bottom of your lip, causing your legs to tremble slightly at how nice it felt. A small whimper left your mouth as he tugged on the soft flesh before releasing it. He instantly brought his lips down to your neck and attacked your beautiful skin. You yelped as his teeth bit down on your neck mercilessly leaving behind patches of red and purple in their wake. 

His tongue peaked through his lips and began to lap up the colorful bruises, the pool of desire in the pit of your stomach growing. Feeling his hot breath of your neck made you squirm slightly underneath him as your own breathing suddenly shortened, and your heart rate began racing. 

He pulled back for a few moments to appreciate his artwork, sitting at full height instead of hovering over your naked and suddenly sensitive body. His fingers that had been gripping the side of the tub tightly left their place and began to graze along your neck. A small whine left your throat feeling the paint-like strokes of his fingers on your skin. 

“Such lovely and beautiful colors on your skin, myujeu sin. Perhaps when the night is done, you’ll be my perfect masterpiece, wouldn’t you like that?” A soft, shuddered breath slipped through your now swollen lips. His fingers trailed down your neck and to your chest that was still covered by your arm. His long fingers then wrapped themselves around your wrist, causing your heart to pound in your chest. “In order to make a masterpiece, I’m going to need to use the entire canvas.” He then pried your arm from your chest, revealing your dewy breasts to his eyes. 

Your cheeks exploded with embarrassed and self-conscious heat while his eyes raked up and down your entire, exposed body. His tongue wet his bottom lip as he hungrily ate up your appearance. Your flustered state certainly didn’t fail to decrease his desire for you. “Fuck…” he sighed. “You’re so beautiful...”

You froze suddenly at those words, eyes widening in shock. However, before you could open your mouth and respond to him, his lips attached themselves to the valley in between your breasts while his hands reached for your hips and gripped tightly on the soft flesh, causing a gasp to slip from your lips. 

He bit on the skin relentlessly, making you go into a moaning mess, while his fingers began to knead and massage your tender skin. The water surrounding you sloshed and splashed around from his rough actions. His eyes fluttered shut as he nearly lost himself in the moment of marking your beautiful skin. You were honestly too beautiful for words. Nothing could compare to your loveliness, not even Venus de Milo. 

A low moan rumbled from his lips and vibrated against your chest, sending shocking pleasure tingling down your spine and into your core. He continued to send languid open-mouthed kisses along the plush skin until his lips began to dwell lower and lower. He paused to give your stomach some special care, nibbling on the sensitive flesh until your skin began to sprout blotches of red and purple. Your eyes fluttered down from the ceiling, which you had been staring at during all of this, until you brought your head down to watch Taehyung continue his ministrations, his lips occasionally dipping into the water.

The moment your hazy eyes landed on him, his eyes fluttered open and made contact with yours, his irises dark with desire. Your breath hitched in your throat as your hands gripped the side of the tub tightly. His lips curled up into a smug smirk before burying them back into your stomach. You almost lost yourself in the pleasure that curled your toes.

It was then when his lips suddenly dwelt too low that your eyes flew open with a flurry of panic. “Wait! Wait!” you cried out, suddenly sitting up causing Taehyung to jerkily move back to give you some space. Water splashed between the two of you because of your sudden movement.

He wondered for a few seconds if he pushed you too far. He was certain by the look in your eyes that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Maybe he read into it a little too hastily. Perhaps you needed a little more time before he could pursue you. “What? What’s wrong? Did I go too far?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes. 

You were again deeply moved that he still held deep concern for you and tried your best to reassure him with a nervous smile. “No… it’s not that. I just…” Your voice trailed off as you bit your bottom lip anxiously. “I’m a virgin…”

Taehyung blinked a few times before huffing out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s no secret. You look like a deer caught in headlights every time any of us make a move on you,” he replied, a boyish smile stretched across his lips.

You rolled your eyes and whacked his arm as all sense of anxiety momentarily left you. “No, you prat. What I’m trying to say is…” You cut yourself with a sigh. “I’ve never done this before. So I’m nervous…” Your mouth hesitantly closed, as you couldn’t sort through your muddled thoughts to get out what was on your mind.

Taehyung stared at you for a few seconds. The longer he did, the more anxiety began to bubble within you like soup on the stove. You gulped nervously, maybe this was a mistake, telling him your feelings.

“Do you want to?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

The question caught you off guard, to be honest. You sat in the tub, your sight taking in the water that still rippled from your actions from earlier. Did you want to? Did you actually wanted to have sex with Taehyung? In your mind, sex is what you did when you passionately loved someone. So, the question should really be… did you love Taehyung? 

Well, yes and no. You did love him, but you loved him in the sense you loved your best friend, perhaps even a little more considering everything you two have been through. You felt close to him, but there were so many things about him that you didn’t know about him. He was a mystery to you, and perhaps that mystery is what’s preventing you from actually loving him. You could just have sex with him casually, but you couldn’t bring yourself to use him like that. He was a person you’ve come to care about deeply, not someone you could use for pleasure and then act like there was nothing between the two of you.

You knew that he wouldn’t like your answer, but you slowly shook your head nonetheless. “No… I’m sorry. I think it was a spur of the moment. I think… before we just go head first into this, we should get to know each other a little better,” you managed to get out.

A small flicker of sadness appeared in his eyes before it quickly disappeared and he reluctantly nodded in agreement. “Yeah, no, I understand. We should go slow into this. I’m sorry that I rushed you there,” he apologized, giving you a small, sad smile in an attempt to console you. 

You fiddled with your fingers because of the anxiety still churning within you. “No, it’s me who should be sorry. I should’ve told you to stop before you got the wrong message. I just think that we should learn more about each other first before we even think about… you know…”

Taehyung’s smile formed into a more genuine one as he leaned back into the tub while propping his jaw on his hand, eyes staring at you. “God, you’re so innocent, you sweet summer child.” He readjusted himself in the tub into a more relaxed position. “Alright, what do you want to know about the demolition expert of the expedition team?”

Honestly, the first thing that popped into your head was what he revealed to you back at the museum gala. The story of what happened to his sister itched at you, but you figured that was a bit heavy for first really getting to know each other. You glanced to the side as you searched for a good question to ask him. “Um… what’s… your favorite color?” You trailed off into laughter at the ridiculousness of the question that tumbled from your mouth.

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Really? That’s what you ask?” He chuckled for a few seconds while shaking his head. “That’s the question you ask when you have nothing else to say. But… if you must know, it’s green.”

Your eyebrows shot up slightly at his answer. “Green? Really? That… wasn’t the answer I was expecting. You seem more like a red fellow.”

“Red?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Red isn’t bad, but I still like green best. It’s lively and full of so many beautiful shades and can be found almost everywhere in nature. The color of creation. I also like black, white, and grey. What about you, since we’re on the topic?”

You pondered the question for a few moments, trying to ignore the sense of awkwardness settling upon the two of you. “I think I’d have to say y/f/c.” You cleared your throat as you tried to think of better questions to ask. You suddenly blurted out, “Two truths, one lie. Go.”

“Huh?” Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, head tilting to the side slightly.

“Tell me two truths and one lie, and I’ll try to figure out the lie,” you explained, realizing that it was too late to take it back.

Taehyung continued to stare at you before he let out a small laugh. “I’ll have you know that I am an exceptional liar.” He sat back and thought over his options. A few long moments went by until he decided on what to tell you. “My hometown is Daegu. I can play the saxophone. And when I was a kid, I had a black and white cat named In-na.”

You smiled broadly with a hidden smugness. “Easy, you never had a cat.” He grinned to match your smile. “Wrong! It’s the-” He suddenly stopped himself and widened his eyes in astonishment. “How the hell did you figure that out?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dumbfounded expression. He was so certain that he was going to win! “I’m a reporter, remember? I can sniff bullshit a mile away,” you giggled, hugging your stomach as laughter erupted from it. “The left corner of your lips quirked up when you told the lie.”

“Damn…” He sunk back into the tub in amazement and shock. “You’re good...”

Once you finished laughing, you gave him a wide, proud grin. “Thank you, I’ve had years of experience.”

He nodded, slowly grinning back to match yours. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”

Your curiosity grew and soon you found you couldn’t resist asking him, “What’s Daegu like? Is it lovely there?”

His flashed to yours with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. Nostalgia? Sorrow? Regret? It seemed like it was clouded by a multitude of feelings. “Daegu? Well, it was home to me. I was born there, but I eventually moved to Gochang, where my grandma raised me. I have more fond memories there.”

You smiled upon realizing that you two had something in common, your love for your grandmothers. “What is she like, your grandmother?” you asked in a soft tone.

Taehyung shared your smile fondly. “She was very sweet and kind. Always patient with me even when I just wanted to play and ignored my chores on the farm.” He paused to reminisce simpler and happier times and then laughed with his lips spread into a boxy smile. “She always nagged me about eating more. Never liked it when I looked too thin for her eyes. She was happy when she saw how chubby I got from eating her food, not that I could blame her. Her food was always delicious.”

You giggled at the thought of a chubby, little Taehyung and cooed inwardly. He must have been so adorable then. “Aw, how cute…”

“I have to admit, I was an adorable child then, still am.” His smile morphed into a wide grin.

You laughed, feeling the anxiety from earlier ebb away as you relaxed into the tub. An overwhelming urge to splash his face with water overcame, and you couldn’t resist the temptation. You dipped your hand down and flung a wave of water at his face. The water drenched his face and hair, droplets falling from it slowly. He flinched at the sudden contact and froze, eyes slammed shut as he let out a sigh of verging impatience. As his eyes slowly opened, small streams of water running down his face, he slowly grinned mischievously.

“Oh, it’s so on…”

With that, you both started your water fight in which most of the water managed to end up on the ground rather than the tub.

—————————————

Morning crept up to you in a soothing manner. You didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn as you usually did. In fact, you actually got a good night’s rest away from all the drama and stress that had been preventing you from sleeping. It was rather comforting and relaxing, knowing that you actually felt rejuvenated for once in your entire life. You probably weren’t going to feel this good in another few decades, might as well enjoy it now.

As you sat up and stretched your arms, save for your injured one for you didn’t want to make the pain worse, your mind immediately reminded you of the events that occurred last night. Taehyung. You lazily smiled as your memories slowly came back to you. After your water fight, you both quickly dried off and ran back to your rooms before the cold air could really chill your skin, screaming at the cool contact and in laughter. Jin yelled at you both to get to bed, as it was well past midnight. However, you both ignored him and laughed on into the night before finally going to sleep.

As you crawled out of bed, you went to prepare yourself for the day. No doubt some of the others wanted to get together to figure out what the next step was in the plan. You should probably get ready for a spontaneous meeting. You powdered your face with makeup until you were satisfied with your facial appearance and slipped on some underwear before putting on a blouse, making sure the collar covered up the hickies that littered your neck, which caused your cheeks to flare up upon sight, and some trousers. You were extremely thankful that it was somewhat socially acceptable for women to wear trousers in this day and age. You were tired of wearing skirts, especially after last night. 

Once you slipped on your shoes over your heels, you sauntered over to the door and opened it before passing through into the hallway. You closed the door behind you as you made your way to the living room where you noticed some of the others were also awake. 

Namjoon sat on one of the couches reading the newspaper that sat on his lap while his only available hand held a spoon full of vanilla yogurt. He caught sight of you entering the room and gave you a cheerful smile. “Morning, y/n! Look what made the front page.” He momentarily set the spoon down in his bowl and lifted the newspaper up to you so you could read it. 

You couldn’t help but laugh seeing how the whole page was full of an extensive article about the supposed fire at the gala. The picture was a black and white image of people running out of the museum while police instead were running in with batons in the air and whistles in their mouths. This all must’ve happened a little after you got into the van with the others and drove off. You scoffed at how blurry the picture was. The photographer must’ve been moving when he took the image.

“They could’ve used a better picture,” you commented almost mockingly, leaning against one of the armrests of a chair with your arms crossed in front of your chest. 

Namjoon’s smile widened at your remark and pulled the papers away so he could continue reading the article. “I thought so, too. The quality is far too blurry.” He folded the newspaper in half and continued, “Apparently the police believe that the ‘fire’ that placed a few men in hospital was caused by some of the rebels of the Indian Independence Movement and are further investigating suspects.” He then tossed the newspaper onto the cushion next to him and popped his yogurt spoon into his mouth all while waiting for you to reply.

You pressed your lips into a thin line upon hearing this. Of course their minds would go straight to the protesters. “I don’t like how we have to use the protests as a cover-up,” you admitted with a frown, your voice grim. 

Namjoon pulled out his spoon and swallowed the yogurt before releasing a disappointed sigh. “Yeah, it doesn’t sit well with me either, but we really can’t do much about it unless we want to confess that Taehyung lit some people on fire and that we stole a priceless artifact from the museum.”

You shrugged your shoulders indifferently. “To be honest, Taehyung only did it out of self-defense for himself and us, and technically we were only taking back what belonged to your people,” you replied all too casually.

Namjoon quirked an eyebrow at your response and smiled rather bemusedly. “If I remember correctly, weren’t you the one who was so against stealing from the museum in the first place?”

“I was against the high possibility of going to jail,” you clarified, “but now that it’s all over, I’m glad we did it. It would’ve just sat in that building like a trophy won by the British.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow raised even higher, perplexed by your sudden attitude. “A British woman who is anti-British? Never thought I’d see the day,” he lightly joked, followed by scooping up another spoonful of yogurt and popping it into his mouth. 

Your frown deepened at what he said, although it was mostly playful. “Excuse you, I’m very proud to be British. I’m just very against the obsession my country has with colonizing every piece of land that they set their foot on.”

Namjoon paused for a few moments, as if thinking over what you said, and then chuckled. He crossed over his legs before looking back up at your face. “It’s almost ironic, isn’t it?” He then gestured to himself with his silver spoon. “The others and I are from a country that’s being oppressed by another nation.” He lifted the spoon and pointed it at your chest. “And you’re from a country that oppresses other nations.”

“You don’t have to make it sound like I’m some sort of a supremacist,” you quipped, then jabbed a finger of your own back in an accusatory way. “Before I forget, I have a bone to pick with you. Hobi told me that you were stopped by your fan club outside the museum which was the reason you couldn’t get in contact with us.” Anger flared within you like a small flame waiting for enough kindling to explode into a bonfire. “Couldn’t you send some sort of signal that you were preoccupied with things while I was busy trying to make sure Jin didn't die?”

You knew that he had somewhat of a valid excuse. He couldn’t just ignore his fans and come to your rescue. That would’ve posed him in a negative light and possibly make him a suspect of the whole disaster. However, you wished he could’ve wrapped things up with them a little sooner so that you had more than enough time to inform him of the sudden change in plans. That would’ve helped you de-stress immensely. 

Namjoon shifted in his seat uncomfortably and laughed awkwardly, sensing your smoldering anger. “Yes, about that… I wanted to apologize for that slight bump in our plans. I sometimes forget that people actually read my books and didn’t think of the possibility that there’d be admirers,” he confessed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I heard that you basically pulled everything together, and I wanted to thank you for that. You really did some quick-thinking back there.”

You sighed softly, feeling the anger ebb away at his honest reply. Picking at the arm wrap that still encased your wounded arm absent-mindedly, you responded, “I don’t know if I would call that quick-thinking. It was more like a panic-induced, adrenaline-high judgment call.” If anyone asked you to explain how you felt, you would tell that person it was like trying to manage several children who were all high on sugar who all decided to run off on their own while trying to avoid your ex-husband who was out looking for you. 

“Still, if you weren’t there, we’d either be dead in the sewers or sitting in a jail cell,” he pointed out, scooping up more yogurt before plopping it into his mouth. You visibly grimaced at such a thought. “Thanks for painting such a pretty picture,” you said sarcastically. “It makes me feel so much better about what happened…”

Namjoon’s face split into a bright smile. “Glad I could help. Anything to help you to relax a little bit. I know that you deserve some relief especially because of last night.”

Your heart slightly clenched at that. He was too nice to you sometimes. Sure, he could tease you to the moon and back; but when he was being sincere with you, man, he really knew how to make your heart throb and your stomach flutter for him. Man, in all honesty, he was the perfect man in your opinion. “You’d be the perfect husband, you know that?” It took you a few seconds for you to realize what your mouth just blurted; but when you did, your trembling heart suddenly stopped beating. 

You actually didn’t say that, did you?

Before Namjoon could reply, his eyes slightly round from your random remark, Hoseok suddenly walked into the room humming to himself loudly while attempting to peel open an orange. You sighed in relief that your conversation-gone-wrong was interrupted as you noticed how his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which made you wonder if he just performed some sort of procedure. Maybe he did a check-up on Taehyung?

Hoseok’s eyes suddenly perked up to you and smiled brightly. “Morning, y/n!” He tossed an orange slice into his mouth before continuing, “Jin is awake if you want to talk to him.”

Jin? He was finally awake? A pang of guilt suddenly shot through you as you realized you almost forgot about what happened to him. Man, you really were a horrible partner-in-crime if you completely forgot about your partner’s sudden collapse. You mentally slapped yourself for being so inconsiderate and replied, “Does he want to talk?”

Hoseok munched on his orange slice for a few seconds before answering, “Yep! In fact, he explicitly wanted you and Jungkook to go talk to him. I already told Kook, and he’s in there right now.” He swallowed and then tossed another slice into his awaiting mouth before wandering off toward the other rooms, probably Yoongi’s if you had to guess. 

Yoongi. You hadn’t spoken to him in awhile, especially with him being nose deep in his wiring maps and entirely focused on the plan. In fact, the last time you attempted to talk to him, he mumbled something about working before pushing you out of his room and closing the door. You quickly made a mental note to visit the mechanic soon and then chew him out for cutting the power at the absolute worst time before saying a quick farewell to Namjoon and walking over to Jin’s room. 

You stopped in front of the sherwood oak door with patterns carved into the wood as if it were some door from a fairytale story. An image of Jin begging for your help moments before collapsing flashed through your mind, causing you to scrunch your eyes shut as if you were in pain. You could still see him so clearly. The hazy eyes. The sweat building on his forehead. His breath on your face. Lips accidentally brushing against yours. 

Your fingers unknowingly touched your own lips, thinking of the way it felt to have his lips on yours. You didn’t know why you remained on that memory so much. It wasn’t like it was an actual kiss or anything. The way he fell just happened to make his lips brush against yours. 

You knocked on the door as a way to snap yourself from such thoughts and waited for a reply. When you heard a soft voice speaking on the other side, you turned the doorknob and slowly pushed it open, poking your head through first. You smiled faintly seeing the millionaire lying in his bed in silken pajamas with a bowl of soup in his hands. His head perked up with slightly round eyes at the sound of your entrance, soup dripping from his lips in small droplets.

A small snigger slipped through your lips at the sight as you slid through the doorway and closed it behind you. “Good morning, Jin,” you greeted pleasantly, “glad to see you’re well.” You made your way to the end of his bed and sat at the foot of it. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook sitting on a small stool placed right next to the bed, as if he were a family member comforting the dying.

Jin wiped his mouth with his hand and placed his bowl on the nightstand sitting next to him, a small smile creeping up onto his lips. “I’m glad I’m well, too. I imagine I gave you quite the scare back at the gala,” he commented, redirecting his attention to you.

You laughed almost bitterly, your laughter on the verge of coming across as a scoff. “That’s the understatement of the year,” you remarked, a few memories momentarily flashing in your head. “I thought you died back there for a good while.”

“It’s going to take a little more than that to kill me,” he chuckled, pulling himself up so that he was no longer slouching. “You were right about one thing though.” When you curiously raised an eyebrow, he continued, “The champagne had gone bad.” You rolled your eyes playfully, wondering how he could be thinking about that at a time like this. “I’m glad that’s the first thing you conclude from this whole disaster.”

“I’ve concluded a few things from what happened.” His expression had turned suddenly serious, as if he wanted to go straight to business. Folding his hands in front of him, he sighed before saying, “I shouldn’t keep you in the dark any longer about my past, now that you’ve done more than enough for all of us and are now on Akimoto’s bad list. You deserve to know by now.” He lightly gestured to the young man sitting next to him, acting as if no one was even there. “I brought Jungkook here to explain a few things about his past you should also be aware of, if he wishes to tell you.” He cleared his throat, suddenly becoming conscious of himself. “Now then, do you have any questions?”

To be honest, you had enough questions to fill an entire book. Last night only reminded you of how little you knew exactly about these boys. Just last night you found out that Taehyung was an artist coveted by the Japanese government to make propaganda for them. Hell, you’ve made out with several of them, and you didn’t even know when their birthday was! Talk about being a strumpet…

Although you had millions of questions boggling in your mind, you didn’t exactly know which one to start with. For Christ’s sake, you were a reporter, and you couldn’t even think of a single question! You then decided to go with the first question that just happened to pop into your head, even if it was completely randomly chosen. “Just who is this Mr. Akimoto? Why is he so bent on finding you two?”

Both of the boys shifted uncomfortably at the mention of that name. They glanced at each other reluctantly before Jin finally began, “Grand Marshal Akimoto Hatsuo of the Imperial Army. His unit focuses particularly on internal security and espionage threats against Japan. Normally I wouldn’t place so much emphasis on how much we need to stay away from him, but with the rise of militarism in Japan…” His voice trailed off ominously, leaving you hanging. “He’s quickly gaining power, and power in the hands of that madman is the worst thing that could happen right now.”

“And he hates Koreans with a passion,” Jungkook added bitterly. “Rumor has it that a Korean servant killed his wife, and now he harbours a great hatred toward them because of it.”

Jin snorted softly with a gentle roll of his eyes. “Lucky woman, if you ask me,” he mumbled with a hint of venom in his voice. “I would want to die, too, if I was his wife.”

You decided to ignore that comment and not dwell on it. Something told you that you would know more about this Akimoto after they explained everything to you. “You said something about being forced to change your name because otherwise you would’ve been executed, Jin. What is that all about?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Jin answered, his brow furrowing deeply in agitation, as if he were reminiscing a bad memory. “The government gave me two choices, if you would even call them that. Either I gave up my family name and adopted a Japanese name or I faced execution.”

“Yes, but why?” you further prodded, getting slightly annoyed that he wasn’t exactly giving you details. “Why go to such extreme lengths just for a name change?”

Jin’s jaw clenched slightly as a long buried anger began to bubble and boil within him. “It may seem like it would be such a fool’s choice to even consider execution, but agreeing to change my name to a Japanese surname is like being branded a slave. I was no longer Korean but rather Japanese by doing so, and, thus, I was now considered theirs. It was a show of dominance on their part, as if I were nothing more than a dog whose very name could be changed at the snap of their fingers.”

You could imagine now how horrendous it would be to be forced to change your name. It would be like a part of your identity, your humanity, was taken away from you. Jin didn’t even have the right to keep his own name. By changing his name, he was basically enslaving himself to the very government that continued to oppress his people.

“I remember when it wasn’t always like that,” Jungkook suddenly butted in, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “The government awhile back set a law saying it was illegal for us to adopt Japanese names, but now… now I wouldn’t be surprised if they suddenly enacted a law forcing us to change our names.” Jin lifted a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t jinx it,” he practically begged with a sigh. “I don’t want our people to have to go through what I went through.”

“But why did they even make you change your name? Why you?” you interrogated, your focus entirely on the topic at hand. “You said that’s what happened when you asked too many questions.”

The hand on his handsome face abruptly fell back onto the sheets, a small thud enacting upon impact. He suddenly looked tired, both physically and mentally. His features looked more worn and drained, as if he just spent all of his energy in these last few seconds. “When I was only seven years old, my father mysteriously disappeared on a business venture and never came back. My mother told me that he found someone else that he fell in love with and eloped with her, but I knew that wasn’t true. My parents were a happy couple. Of course, they disagreed on some matters, but they never continuously fought over it. When I became old enough to take over the family business, I began to make inquiries about what could have possibly happened to my father. It took some digging for awhile, but I managed to find a retired soldier who said he knew what had happened to my father. When I met up with him, he… he told me…” His voice trailed off with an audible crack.

He tried to swallow back a sob, his throat bobbing almost violently as he tried to hold back his tears. His lips parted as a shaky sigh escaped his chest, eyes shining with unshed tears. Your heart clenched at the sight, already knowing where this was going. You scooted yourself forward on the bed and wrapped your arms around his broad, squeezing him lightly in order to provide him some comfort. Jungkook looked down at the somberly before placing a hand on the older’s back and rubbing it soothingly, offering quiet words of condolence. “I’m sorry,” you murmured softly into his shoulder. “No one should have to go through that.” 

“It should be me apologizing,” Jin protested, voice slightly strained from holding back his sobs. He pulled away and wiped the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes with a soft chuckle. “You’d think after years of knowing I’d have grown used to the fact.”

“You shouldn’t even be growing used to it,” you responded, arms tightening around him. “No son should grow used to their father’s death.”

“...Thank you.”

You didn’t say anything in reply, allowing him to finally calm down at his own pace. He released another long sigh and paused for a few moments. Once he had somewhat relaxed, he continued with his story, his voice still cracked. “He... told me that my father was shot and killed for conspiring against the government by audibly protesting the annexation of Korea by Japan and rallying people to the cause and threw his body in a ditch to rot. A few days after I discovered this, the man I went to was found dead in his home... and all the evidence pointed to me. I was arrested and brought to Akimoto, who said that I was to be executed for killing a veteran soldier, unless I changed my name…”

Dear Lord! Things like these actually happened to people? You didn’t know how Jin managed to get through all of it. If you were in his position, you would’ve lie down in some corner and waited for your miserable life to end. You had to admit, Jin was very brave and strong for him to go through all of this and still continue to want to protect his country. You weren’t sure if you’d want to proceed after experiencing all of that.

“That’s… horrible…” You were honestly at a loss for words. To think people were capable of such things. It almost made you give up on humanity right then and there. You wanted to go back in time and just pound your fists over and over again into Mr. Akimoto’s wrinkled, ugly face. 

Jin nodded slowly and solemnly in agreement. “Yeah, it was. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I tried to be strong and not give into their wants, but… they kept me in that cell for so long I lost track of the days. My will grew weak as did my stomach and throat. So… I gave in.”

Jungkook’s lips pressed together in a thin line of subdued anger. “Bastards…”

Jin’s voice remained solemn as he gestured to Jungkook. “What I went through pales in comparison to what happened to Jungkook.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook mumbled quietly.

He continued, completely ignoring the younger’s quiet pleas, “How long has it been? It has to be at least-”

“Two years, one month, and twelve days.”

Jin studied Jungkook’s face, completely stunned by his sudden, and rather precise, answer. His eyes rounded into perfect circles as an awkward silence settled upon the three of you. Then his shoulders sagged in exasperation as did the roll of his eyes. “You’ve been keeping track? You’re gonna end up obsessing over what happened if you don’t let go of your past.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Jungkook retorted, earning himself a slap on the shoulder from the older man. “You know, it’s kinda hard to forget what happened when that day ruined my life forever.”

“Okay, okay,” you suddenly butted in, gaining the two men’s attention. “Can someone please tell me what happened instead of acting all cryptic?”

The playful atmosphere abruptly dropped into a more grim ambiance. The smiles instantly disappeared into more somber frowns as Jin glanced over to the younger man. Jungkook leaned back into his chair, arms crossed over his chest and eyes cast to the carpeted floor. “Y/n…” he softly began, “please don’t hate me after I tell you this.”

You scoffed humorlessly. “Unless you tell me that you secretly worked with the people that oppress the Koreans, I don’t think I’ll hate you, Jungkook,” you lightly joked.

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and then softly cursed under his breath before finally giving you an answer. “So Jin said that at the gala he told you that if Akimoto ever found me there would be a public execution, right?” You gave him a subtle nod, remembering the comment from last night. “Well, that’s because… The reason why I’m so good at fighting is…” He sighed, as if he couldn’t actually bring himself to admit to what happened, and rubbed the back of his neck. “... On April 11, 1928… I made an attempt to assassinate Emperor Hirohito…”

To say you were shocked was definitely an understatement. It took you a few seconds to process this information, a deadly silence falling upon you. You blinked a few times in a daze until your brain finally clicked, and in that instant your jaw dropped wide open as a weight had suddenly been attached to it. Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline as your eyes became the size of saucers. Your heart suddenly skipped a beat as your throat dropped to the very pits of your stomach.

You were friends… with a would-be assassin…

You let out a long, drawn-out exhale that was seemingly trapped in your chest for God knows how long. You just couldn’t seem to wrap your head around what was revealed to you. Jungkook… attempted to assassinate… the Emperor of Japan…. This young boy… tried to murder… a world leader…

“H-how…?”

Jin was surprised by your reaction. “Huh… she’s taking this better than I thought she would.”

Normally, you would’ve retorted or smacked the millionaire, but currently you were so thrown off your rhythm that all you could do was stare at Jungkook with big, round eyes. You just couldn’t get in your head the thought that this sweet-looking boy, who saved you on multiple occasions, tried to assassinate the Emperor of Japan. This definitely topped the shock and astoundment that rocked you when Taehyung revealed you that he was an artist by tenfold. 

Jungkook shifted himself uncomfortably in his stool, his eyes flickering off to the side as if he weren’t unsure where to begin explaining himself. “Well… I traveled to Tokyo the week before to prepare myself and make sure everything was in place for the assassination. Hirohito was planning to travel back to the Akasaka Palace in a carriage, and I had it set up so that I was in a corner building on one of the upper floors. I was planning on sniping Hirohito in his carriage on his way back to the palace and then slip away during the chaos, but…” 

He ran a hand through his dark locks while a frustrated sigh hissed through his lips. His jaw clenched slightly. “I shot the wrong fucking guy. I shot his attendant who happened to look a lot like him instead. It was too late for me to make another shot as his guards were already scrambling around to protect him and find me.” 

Dear Lord… he actually went through with it. He actually made an attempt to take the life of the Emperor. You slowly closed your mouth, though your eyes still remained wide. You could feel the palms of your hands suddenly become sweaty as you took in this information. God, you just couldn’t actually believe it. A shaky sigh escaped your lungs as you commented, “Obviously… you managed to escape.”

Jungkook nodded slowly, watching your reaction closely, praying silently to anyone who was listening that you wouldn’t hate him, or, even worse, be scared of him. “Yes, the police were still on the ground when I decided to ditch my plan. So I stuck to the rooftops and managed to maneuver myself around the city. When the police got to the rooftops to search for me, I then decided to stick to alleyways and fire escapes. Sometimes I had to slide through random windows and hide in there for a while before I went on the run again. I finally managed to make it to the docks and stole a man’s ticket to Vietnam and took the ship out of the country. Then as soon as I made it to Vietnam, I traveled to a small village on foot and stayed there for a few weeks and then made it back home after the coast was clear.”

“However, the police are still on the lookout for him. They haven’t released this information to the public yet, seeing as how they haven’t arrested JK. After all, they don’t want people thinking that the law enforcement is incompetent, since they can’t even catch one man on the run,” Jin mentioned, mockery and contempt dripping from his voice.

“I’m just extremely lucky that they know it was me by name and not any photographic evidence.” When you gave him a confused expression, he clarified, although reluctantly, “They found documentation of my stay at a hostel in a village nearby Tokyo and managed to eventually piece everything together.”

“Ah ah! Don’t forget that you were lucky that I decided to help you by throwing the police off your trail!” Jin exclaimed, then clicked his tongue agitatedly before mumbling, “I suppose there are some useful things about being Akimoto’s dog.”

Your shoulders sagged slightly as your brain continued to process this new knowledge, a slight headache threatening to appear. “So you did all of this, because why? Did you think that by killing this man that all of your problems would be miraculously solved?” you demanded. Although you could understand his anger, in your opinion, it was an incredibly dumb move on his part. Jungkook was right. He ruined his entire life just by a simple pull of the trigger. 

Jungkook stared at you for a few moments, his eyes focused on you with a dull sorrow. For a solid moment, you thought you were staring into the eyes of someone who spent many years of their life fighting in the war. “I was just… tired and angry and frustrated and devastated and scared. I was so sick of seeing people forced into labor, people begging for food on the streets, daughters and wives being forced in prostitution in order to survive. I was sick of it! I thought that perhaps maybe, just maybe, if they lost someone dear to their nation, they could feel just a fraction of what we were going through. Their eyes would finally open up to the horror of what they were doing to us. But…” 

He paused for a few seconds as his fingers awkwardly folded themselves together. “Now, I know that even if I did kill him, I would only be giving the government the evidence they needed to prove that we were barbarians that needed to be controlled.”

You sat on the plush bed for a few moments, taking in everything you just heard and repeating it over and over again in your head. On one hand, you wanted to smack Jungkook on the backside of the head for how stupid and daft he was for thinking he could pull off something so dangerous on his own, but, on the other hand, you just wanted to wrap your arms around him and comfort him by whispering sweet, consoling words into his ears. You just wanted to tell him that, despite of everything he went through and witnessed, which seemed like a trip to hell and back, that it was going to be okay, that he was going to be alright in the end. 

However, instead of doing either of those things, you just sat there dumbly, your fingers playing anxiously with the quilt of the bed. These boys… what they hid from you… was absolutely horrendous. You just didn’t know how cruel humans could be to each other until that very moment. They were dragged through the mud and then spit on some more by those who deemed them lesser than the dirt that clung to their skin.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you these things before you joined, y/n,” Jin apologized, his mouth suddenly gone dry as sand. “I… don’t really know why I hid my past from you. I don’t know if I was ashamed for rolling over so easily instead of fighting back, or if I was scared you’d run away, or…” His voice trailed off as he couldn’t find the words to continue his apology. He slumped back into the fluffy pillows as his eyes now bore into the ceiling solemnly.

“Well, I could tell you for sure it was both of those reasons why I didn’t tell you,” Jungkook admitted, also leaning back into his chair with a soft sigh of regret. “I was ashamed for being such a failure but yet for doing so stupid, and I was scared you’d run away as soon as you heard that I was almost a murderer.” 

You didn’t notice how deeply you inhaled until your lungs screamed at you to release the oxygen trapped inside. Then you slowly let air out through your mouth as a drawn-out sigh. “Jungkook…” you began, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “I know I’ve only been in the group for a little over a month at this point, but after all we’ve been through, nothing could ever make me scared of you guys. Am I shocked? Oh boy, am I. Am I a bit overwhelmed? You can bet a pound or two, I am.” 

You paused briefly as you tried to organize your messy thoughts into an orderly fashion. “And I’m not mad that you kept these secrets from me. What happened to you both was definitely traumatizing, and I’m just glad to know that you two can trust to tell me these horrible things that you both experienced. I’m… I’m so sorry you two had to go through all of that.” A shaky breath escaped your lips as your throat began to suddenly tighten. These boys didn’t deserve any of this.

“We’re not the only ones that were victims of all of this,” Jungkook informed you, his thumbs twirling around each other to keep them occupied. “The others also went through things that no one should have gone through.”

Instantly, your mind went to what Taehyung revealed to you at the gala. How could you forget? You remembered so vividly the anger that flared in his eyes like a forest fire, blazing without mercy. The fury in his voice as he growled how he would rather die than give into the wishes of the Japanese government. In fact, behind those furious eyes of him, you remembered seeing a hint of hidden agony, as if you ripped off a bandaid to reveal a bleeding wound.

As you wandered through your memories, you murmured in reply, “Yes, I remember Taehyung saying something about his sister.” He came home to find her on the ground crying if you recalled correctly. You lifted up your head to look at both Jin and Jungkook with curiosity in your eyes. “What happened to her?”

The two men gave each other uneased,uncertain looks, as if they wanted to explain everything to you but were unsure if they were allowed to disclose such information. Finally, Jin answered reluctantly, “I believe that is something that Taehyung should tell you himself. It would be wrong of us if we just spilled his secrets without him knowing.”

He cast his gaze to the floor as if merely talking about it was bad enough. “Out of all of us, Tae probably got it the worst. He was continuously bombarded with misfortune-- still is to this day what with the government hounding him to make propaganda for them.”

You had to admit, you really wished they would just tell you instead of making you awkwardly ask the person in question. However, you understood why they believed it was for the best to let Taehyung explain his story. It was personal, and they shouldn’t tell others something so personal without his say in it. You would’ve wanted the same if you were in his shoes. 

“Alright…” you murmured, pausing for a few moments. “What else should I know about? Is Jimin secretly a rebel leader?”

Jungkook scoffed almost humorously. “Jimin? No way, he probably got it the best out of us. The worst he went through was facing school identity fraud.”

“Jungkook,” Jin scolded, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “What did I just say about respecting other people’s pasts? And don’t say he got it easy. He had his own hardships he had to deal with.”

The youngest rolled his dark eyes at the older’s motherly antics. He folded his muscular arms across his chest to match his annoyance. “Yes, mother,” he replied almost mockingly.

Great, now you wanted to know Jimin’s history. Your reporter instincts screamed at you to get the scoop, to learn more about the boys. Although guilt wracked your body because of it, you were awfully curious as to what the others’ pasts were. You wanted to know what made them into the people they were today. However, it seemed that you were going to have to be patient and wait for them to reveal such things to you once they were ready. 

“Thank you for trusting me with this, again.” As you gently clasped your hands together with a faint smile, you changed the subject by asking, “So, what’s next on our agenda? Now that we have the kobae, which is where again?” Now that you mentioned it, you had no idea where the kobae was. You hadn’t seen it at all ever since last night.

“Namjoon is keeping it safe and preserved, or so I’m told,” Jin answered, now making a move to slip out from the bed. The faint light that shimmered through the navy blue, velvet curtains enveloped him in a halo of light. “I’m glad he’s using his skills to keep the kobae intact. I would hate to go through all of this and for someone to accidentally break it.”

“Then why is Namjoon keeping it safe? He’s the one who breaks everything,” Jungkook commented, his eyebrows knitting together in slight concern. 

The image of the kobae shattered on the ground while Namjoon stood next to its remains with a sheepish smile appeared in everyone’s mind in that moment, but the millionaire merely brushed away the thought. “He wouldn’t be an archeologist if he broke every artifact he found,” he pointed out, then began to unbutton his top. “You two go to the living room with the others. I’ll meet you all there to discuss what the next part of the riddle means.”

After murmuring farewells to the leader, you and Jungkook got up from where you were sitting and made your way out of the bedroom. For some odd reason, you felt lighter coming out than you did going in, as if the weights that had been dragging you down were miraculously lifted. Perhaps by talking to the two and knowing that they trusted you with such dangerous secrets, the burdens of working with people you didn’t know disappeared. It made it a whole lot easier working with them knowing this.

And it makes it easier to make-out with them, a kittenish voice whispered in the back of your mind.

Your cheeks faintly flared at the sensuous thought and shoved the voice to the farthest corner of your mind. No, don’t think about that! Focus on the expedition!

You entered the living room where Namjoon was still occupied with his newspaper and now empty bowl of yogurt. You remembered your last words to him before going to Jin and immediately wanted to throw yourself out of the nearest window from the pure embarrassment that coursed through like a rapidly moving river. You really should stuff your mouth with your foot sometimes.

You sat on the couch farthest from Namjoon while Jungkook took a seat next to him. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal veiny, muscular arms, not that you were staring, and kicked up his legs so one was crossed on top of the other. You also crossed your legs and rested your hands in your lap. Well, it wasn’t like things could get any worse, right?

Wrong.

In that moment, Taehyung entered the living room from behind you, and, once seeing that you were also present in the room, broke out into a wide, boxy grin and snuck up behind you. Once he was standing directly behind you, he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a back hug, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Morning, yeodongsaeng,” he murmured so only you could hear it.

You smiled gently at the nickname, although you had no idea what it meant. You found it to be rather endearing and sweet to call you something in his native tongue. You supposed that bonding time with him last night must’ve really worked, considering he was acting all affectionate to you in a platonic manner. Taehyung pulled away only to swing around and plop in the spot right next to you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You allowed this and even scooted closer to him because of the comforting heat that exuded off of him. The cool air chilled you a bit, so you were thankful for some body heat to cling to.

Jungkook rounded his eyes seeing all of this while Namjoon arched an eyebrow in bemusement. “Oh, did something happen last night that I wasn’t aware of?” Namjoon asked, now setting his newspaper to the side.

You gulped deeply after a large lump suddenly lodged itself in your throat, remembering the presence of the other two men in the room. Before you could answer him, Taehyung spoke out with his grin now turned mischievous, “We just enjoyed a nice bath together last night.”

Taehyung! You could’ve strangled him on the spot! Why on earth would he word it like that?! That made it sound like you-- you two--! Ugh!

You honestly wanted to either just crawl up into a small ball and just disappear from the universe or  to beat Taehyung with a crowbar for making your life a whole lot more complicated. Either option sounded wonderful at that current moment. Maybe you could even beat up Taehyung first and then disappear from the universe.

“A bath, huh?” Jungkook echoed, lips curling up into a small smirk, although it was partly hidden behind his hand. “I was wondering who was being so noisy last night.”

Now you wanted to beat Jungkook with the same crowbar. “Hobi said that I needed to take a bath to help ease my sore muscles after exerting them so much at the gala,” you explained, hoping that it would be enough to get rid of those vulgar assumptions that just so happened to be true. “Oh, I bet they were sore, all right,” Jungkook commented, his voice dripping with travesty.

Taehyung chuckled at the younger’s remark and glanced over to see what your reaction was, which happened to be you huffing irritatedly and shooting him a glare before you snapped your head away from him, your face still hot from embarrassment. He softly cooed upon seeing how cutely your face scrunched up in chagrin. 

“Nothing happened!” you cried out in irritation, wanting to wipe away these assumptions from everyone’s minds.

“Besides a small make out session,” Taehyung added slyly.

You whipped your head to face him. “Tae!” you gritted out. “I’m going to beat your arse!”

Suddenly the door leading to the elevator opened to reveal Jimin dressed lightly as if he went for a morning walk, which you guessed must have been true. He smiled pleasantly to everyone before dragging his fingers through his hair as he wandered over to the group. “Morning, everyone,” he greeted cheerfully. He moseyed on over to where you sat and plopped next to you, his thighs snug against yours. Dear Lord, did these boys not know what personal space was? “What’s the news?”

“We’re waiting for the others to come so we can figure out the next part of the riddle,” Jungkook filled him in. 

“Ugh, not this again,” Taehyung groaned with a roll of his eyes. His fingers drummed against your forearm, which did not go unnoticed by Jimin. 

The survivalist shot you a wicked smirk before quickly switching back to a mirthful smile. “Well, now that we have the kobae, hopefully that’ll make the next part easier to figure out,” he pointed out optimistically. 

“Well, aren’t you being such an idealist,” a voice suddenly spoke up. 

You turned your attention to see Yoongi and Hobi entering the room. Yoongi strode over casually before sitting down in a chair and kicking his feet onto the table that stood in the center of everyone. He wiped his oil dirtied hands onto a rag, as if he were just finished working on a car. 

Hobi took the chair next to him and sat down with his signature smile on his face. “Ah, Yoongi, maybe you’re being the pessimist,” he shot back with a short laugh.

“Or maybe I’m just being realistic,” he argued, stuffing his dirty rag into his coat pocket. There were still dark smears on his hands from hours of working, but nothing short of a lot of soap and water was going to get those stains off of his skin. “What even was the next part of the riddle? Something about a lake? There’s got to be at least a hundred lakes in India.”

“Actually, there are only sixty-two lakes here,” Jimin corrected, leaning forward on his knees.

Yoongi rolled his eyes annoyedly. “Sorry I wasn’t being precise, Mr. Tree Hugger. I was being what’s called exasperated.”

“Hey! I was trying to help you out!”

“No, you just wanted to show off.”

“... Okay, touché.”

The little argument was cut short by the sound of a door closing. Everyone looked up to see Jin exiting his room, fixing the collar of his grey suit and then readjusting his blue tie to match. You almost snickered at the sight of him. He never was seen not wearing a suit, even hours after being drugged.  

Jin joined the rest of the team, his leather shoes clicking against the floor as he smoothed out his jacket. He gave everyone a small smile, while everyone else made small comments about how glad to see him awake and walking around. He replied with words of gratitude and nods before finally getting down to business, as was expected. “I’m sure you are all aware that we must figure out the next part of the riddle if we ever hope to find the Dragon of the Stars,” he began, stating the obvious. “Does anyone have any possible ideas of what the next part could possibly mean?”

Namjoon reminded everybody, saying, “Remember, the riddle is ‘give drink with a bowl of stone waters from the lake of the moon’s flower to the Dragon in order to bring it to its homeland’.”

“Lake of the moon’s flower?” Yoongi echoed, arching an eyebrow subtly before turning to Jimin. “Got any ideas, since you apparently are an expert on lakes.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened before sputtering for a few moments. He managed to get out, “I don’t even know what they mean by moon’s flower! I mean, there is a flower called the moonflower, but that’s only native to the western part of the world.”

An idea suddenly popped into your head. “Oh! Oh! Maybe they’re talking about those flowers that only bloom at night time. What are those called?” you suggested eagerly, wanting to help.

“There’s lots of flowers that bloom at night, y/n. Evening primrose. Datura. Brugmansia. None of those flowers are native to India though,” Jimin shot down, folding his arms in front of his chest as he grew more frustrated by the riddle. “Well, except for the Brahma Kamal, but those grow in mountainous areas, not by lakes.”

“Besides, this lake needs to be in Punjab, since that’s where our ancestors ran to,” Namjoon remarked.

“Instead of focusing on the meaning behind moon’s flower, perhaps we could figure out a lake that has a lot of flowers. Any ideas?” Hobi proposed, looking around for anyone who could think of an idea.

Jimin sighed with a soft groan. “This is India, Hobi. There’s lots of lakes with flowers.”

Taehyung raised his hand to gather everyone’s attention before adding his own opinion. “What if they’re not so much talking about flowers so much as the moon. I mean, if you think about it, a moon in the lake would look like a flower, wouldn’t it?” 

“Then wouldn’t the wording be changed?” Jungkook argued, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “If that were the case, then it would be worded ‘flower of the night sky’ or something like that.”

“I think Jungkook is right,” you added, your hand cupping your chin as you racked your brain over the riddle. “There must be a specific reason as to why they would choose to place emphasis on moon’s flower.”

“Okay, okay,” Jin interrupted the discussion. “Maybe it would be best if we placed ourselves in the shoes of those who wrote the riddle. If you were writing these clues, what would you include that would throw people off the trail?”

Yoongi scoffed softly at the idea of imagining he were a Korean man in India about two millennia ago; but regardless of how silly he thought it was, he kept his mouth shut and decided to humor Jin by following his suggestion. “Well, I’m trying to make sure the Chinese soldiers wouldn’t be able to figure it out, right? Then I’d refer to something that wasn’t common knowledge to the average Chinese person at the time.”

Jin nodded his head in agreement, eyes drawn to the floor as the wheels in his head were slowly turning. “Right, something the Chinese wouldn’t know, but our ancestors would know, specifically… something that these particular Koreans would know,” he murmured out loud.

“Wait a second…” Namjoon began, his eyes widening just a centimeter as the pieces began to piece themselves together. “These Koreans at the time, they’ve spent months-- maybe even years-- in India. They’ve probably spent a lot of time with the Indians around, so logically they would pick up a few things about their culture, right?” When everyone nodded with his reasoning, he continued, “So maybe moon’s flower refers to something about Indian culture--” He cut himself off and he suddenly sprung up from his seat on the couch in excitement. “Lilies! Lilies! Lilies are the symbol of the Indian moon deity, Chandra!”

“Oh my God!” Jimin yelled as he too lept from the couch and hopped around eagerly, the excitement pulsing through him in large waves. “There’s a lake known for its lilies! Dal Lake!” He bounced up and down like a toddler in a candy store. “Oh my God! We need to go to Dal Lake!”

Everyone broke out in a small celebration with loud cheers and shouting when the next part of the riddle was figured out. You contemplated briefly bringing out some wine to commemorate the occasion. After all, you were just about ready to throw in the towel until Namjoon and Jimin managed to figure out the next part of the riddle. However, there was one person who wasn’t quite ready to start celebrating yet.

“Not to rain on everyone’s parade,” Yoongi suddenly butted in a cool tone, “but what do we do once we arrive at this Dal Lake? The riddle says we need to ‘give drink to the Dragon’, but last time I checked, dragons don’t exist.”

“Well, it has something to do with the kobae, obviously,” Jungkook replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe there will be instructions for us once we get there.”

Yoongi snorted almost bitterly at that. “Oh, yes, there will be a little post with a sign saying, ‘If you have the kobae with you, come right this way to the Dragon of the Stars!’.”

“Ah! Don’t be such a Debby Downer, Yoongi!” Hobi cried out, moving behind the mechanic before slipping his arms around his shoulders into a hug. “Did someone not get a good night’s rest last night?”

Yoongi shrugged the doctor’s arms off of him, rolling his eyes although a small smile graced his lips. “No, in fact, I actually slept really well knowing that everyone was alive and that we got away with infiltration and robbery.”

Jin redirected the conversation back to the previous topic, saying, “We’ve got a whole plane ride to figure out what we should do once we get to Dal Lake. I suggest we start packing up right now and get on the plane as soon as possible before Akimoto and his men get the chance to track us down.”

No one argued with him when he mentioned Akimoto and went straight to work packing up and leaving the city.

—————————————

No matter how many times you’ve been in a plane, you will never stop marvelling at how a simple machine could have you flying among the birds. You could spend hours just staring at the blue sky, looking down at the earth that you walked upon just hours before. 

Everything looked so tiny down below, like little tiny ants going about their day. When you weren’t looking down at the small world, you were busy ogling at the beautiful sky full of white clouds that reminded you of the dandelion seeds that littered your grandmother’s lawn. You remembered how you spent your childhood years playing with the fuzzy weeds.

As you were lost in your mind, reminiscing more innocent times, you didn’t notice anyone approaching you until they plopped down on the seat across from yours. You snapped your attention from the pale blue sky to see who suddenly joined you. You recognized it to be Yoongi, his forehead sweaty from working. He released huffs and puffs of air as his hand wiped away the sweat that began to collect itself on his brow.

Now that you thought about it, you recalled that Yoongi had to fix a certain part of the plane, which you happened to forget its name because you weren’t exactly listening, that required lots of heavy-lifting.

“Need a drink?” you offered, already moving toward your bag to grab a glass water bottle. The poor,  young man looked as if he needed about several bottles to quench his thirst.

“Yes, please,” he sighed in reply, his body slouching against the cushioned seat. You reached for the glass bottle and handed it to the mechanic. He weakly took it from your hand and uncapped it before taking large gulps of the cool liquid. 

You smiled faintly before briefly looking back at the view of the sky until he managed to polish off about half of the bottle. Wiping his hand across his mouth to get rid of the excess water, he asked with a raspy voice, “So, how is our heroine doing lately?”

You arched an eyebrow amusedly at what he said, your smile widening as a soft chuckle escaped your lips. “Heroine? Why do you call me that?” you questioned, resting your head in the palm of your hand.

Yoongi merely shrugged his shoulders indifferently in reply. “Lately everyone has been showering you with praise for managing to pull the museum operation through. I thought that I’d join them in that regard,” he answered nonchalantly, as if he were stating an obvious fact. 

Another chuckle left your mouth at how casually Yoongi said this. “Well, aren’t you such a sweet chap?” you remarked.

“You know, I act pretty friendly often, and yet everyone’s always surprised by it,” Yoongi observed, his shoulders sagging a little bit in exasperation.

“Only because people don’t know if you’re serious or not,” you replied.

“... Fair enough.”

Your smile widened as your eyes slowly began to return themselves back to the endless blue sky. You could never get over how beautiful it was. The color that painted the sky was something that could never be made by human hands. Nature was truly a marvel to behold sometimes.

“I’m still a little low-key peeved that you just happened to pull the plug right when Jin passed out. The whole blackout made finding Namjoon, Jungkook, and Tae so much more difficult than it needed to be,” you mentioned, although your jovial expression didn’t match the words that tumbled from your mouth.

Yoongi scoffed almost offendedly by what you said, his eyebrows knitting together and his jaw dropping. “Hey, I was just doing what we all agreed what time would be best for the blackout. It’s not like anyone gave me a signal that Jin just happened to get drugged right before I decided to flip the switch,” he defended himself, then sighed as he sunk further into his chair. “Man… I can’t wait for someone to invent instant communication. That would make my job so much easier.”

You laughed cheerfully at how passionate the mechanic got when defending himself. You couldn’t really blame him for the whole incident. He was right; everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong happened all at the same time. He really had no control over any of that. However, you just wanted to see what his reaction would be if you said such words, and, you had to admit, you weren’t disappointed with the results.

“You know, Hobi and I were hanging out before we got together and decided to head for this lake,” he changed the subject, setting the bottle on the floor next to him. “He told me that Jin was awake and was talking to you and Jungkook. He made a few comments about how long you two were in there. Mind sharing what you three talked about? Was it just those two praising you for your actions at the gala?”

You wondered to yourself what brought on this question for a few seconds. Did he think you all were gossiping about him? You contemplated whether you should mention that you were, in fact, discussing Jin and Jungkook’s pasts. “Jin and Jungkook both told me their pasts. Jin said his father was killed for conspiracy, and then he was basically made into a puppet for the government. Jungkook told me how he attempted to assassinate Emperor Hirohito but failed and is now on the run,” you disclosed, your tone calm as if you were merely discussing the weather. 

Yoongi slowly nodded as you explained everything to him, his eyes trained on you for any form of a reaction. Finally, he brought his gaze to the ground and was silent for a few moments, gathering his thoughts together before speaking his mind. “I guess you now know what our world is like. We were considered inferior to them, weak, powerless. Everything that gave us nationalistic idenity meant nothing to them. We were even told that it was illegal to speak our own language. So, yeah, you can imagine that all our lives were pretty shitty,” he described, his fingers tapping against the armrest of the seat. 

You tilted your head slightly to the side as you listened to him go off. Suddenly, you remembered that you knew nearly nothing about the mechanic, except for that he thought this entire expedition to be a fool’s journey and he was only doing this for the money. “What about you, Yoongi? What made your life so shitty?” you asked.

Yoongi stared at you with astonishment written across his face. “What? You want to know more about me?” He pointed to himself, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. When you nodded, he shook his head at lightning’s speed. “No, no. Sorry, doll, but that isn’t something I like to touch on. Believe me, it isn’t as thrilling as trying to kill the Emperor of Japan. Just know that it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows.”

You slightly pouted at that, your reporter mindset upset that you couldn’t get the facts. You wanted to know more about the others, and hearing how horrible their lives were didn’t exactly quell your curiosity. You tried to organize what you knew about everyone into different categories. 

Jin was basically property of the Japanese government after his father was killed, Jungkook tried to kill the Emperor but didn’t succeed, Taehyung currently was being harassed to make propaganda for the government and something happened to his sister, and Jimin apparently faced school identity fraud at some point in his life. That left Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi, who you barely knew about apart from their occupations and some minor details.

“You aren’t going to tell me even one thing about your past?” you sulked, hoping that your pouting would get something out of him.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at your persistence. “Fine, I’ll tell you one thing about my past.” You leaned forward eagerly, excited to hear at least one thing about him. “I learned all of my mechanic skills from my dad.”

Hey, it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Besides, the image of a young Yoongi being taught how to fix a car by his father had you cooing and murmuring fondly. The mechanic, instead, flushed furiously at how you were making cute noises, although his rosy cheeks were masked with a deep frown.

“Hey, what’s with the baby noises?” he demanded, his arms still folded across his chest.

“Nothing, nothing,” you giggled, then confessed, “I was just thinking about how adorable you probably were as a kid.”

Yoongi shook his head but still smiled a bit as you were sent into another bout of giggles. Oh, his cheeks must have been so chubby!

“You have to show me some baby photos of you, when this is all over!” you insisted, eager to see exactly what he looked like in his younger years.

Yoongi stared at you with such earnestness and flatly replied, “I don’t have any.”

Your bright smile quickly dissipated upon hearing this. What? How could he have no baby photos? Your family wasn’t rich either, but even your mother had a book full of black and white photos of you as a toddler. “My family couldn’t afford a camera. Hell, my mother could barely put food on the table. Sometimes I had a small cup of soup and that was my meal for the day.”

Ah… right, now you understood why this was a touchy subject. You cleared your throat awkwardly as a solemn atmosphere settled upon the two of you. Yoongi must have grown up in a poor family, which made sense why the pay of this expedition must seem so appealing to him. You recalled how he talked about giving the money to his parents who needed it desperately. You imagined what kind of financial situation they were in at the moment. No wonder Yoongi was so determined to get the Dragon. He just wanted to get the funds to his family.

Yoongi let out an irritated sigh as he slumped back into his seat. “Shit… I already let it slip,” he grumbled to himself in slight disgust, then redirected his attention to you. “Why are you so curious about us anyway?”

You brought your gaze back to him after sheepishly looking around from the tense atmosphere. “I just want to know more about you boys, is all. I’ve been with you all for more than a month at this point. I guess we’re at the point where we get to know each other on a more personal level now,” you answered reluctantly.

The mechanic studied your face for a few moments, searching for something that you couldn’t quite figure out. His strong stare caused you to awkwardly shuffle in your seat, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your core. “Then I guess it’s only fair that you tell me something about yourself first, since you want to know so much about me. So, tell me, y/n, what is something about your past that was shitty?”

To be honest, in comparison to the other boys, your life up to this point was a walk on a sunny beach while theirs was a walk on sharp, broken glass in the middle of a hurricane. You didn’t know anything that could even be compared to what they went through. Should you talk about how you fell out of a tree and broke your ankle? Perhaps you should mention the time a dog bit you in the arse as a little girl? 

Who were you fooling? You never experienced anything remotely close to what they went through!

“I haven’t really had anything happen to me that was as bad as what you all went through,” you admitted, your cheeks hot with embarrassment. However, this time it wasn’t from any teasing or flirtatious comments. 

Yoongi arched an eyebrow at your confession. “Is that so? Nothing? No dead parents?”

You shook your head. 

“No abusive childhood?”

Again, you shook your head.

“No government officials hunting you down?”

“Well… not in the past-”

“You know what I mean,” he interrupted, cutting you off abruptly. “How about living in hiding for as long as you can remember?”

…

At your silent reply, Yoongi nodded curtly and made a move to get up from his seat. “Then I don’t see why I should tell you my past if you can’t even begin to relate.” He stood up and fixed his clothing before taking a few steps away to leave you all by your lonesome, hands dug deep in his jacket pockets.

You sat there, your eyes glued to the floor somberly. He was right, you had nothing to relate to the boys. Unless…

“I was there when my grandmother died.”

Yoongi abruptly stopped in his tracks at your sudden reply. His head turned slightly to the side as his attention was grabbed by you. He stood there silently, waiting for you to continue on with your story.

Feelings that were long ago buried and forgotten suddenly resurfaced as you recalled the memories that were full of sorrow and grief. You really didn’t want to bring back these painful memories. But if you had any hope of connecting with these boys, then you had to give them something that they could connect with.  

You released a shaky sigh as you began, “My grandmother one day just suddenly collapsed in her home and was found by my mother a few hours later while I was busy playing in her lawn. She managed to get her in bed, but she was already in a coma by then. My mother and I stayed at her side for the next few days, tending to her needs and the needs of the house. Although I was a kid, I remember how she was just… lying there… motionless… just breathing. It was almost sickening to watch her waste away like that. With each day I saw how she had gotten thinner and thinner and paler and paler. She already looked like a ghost.”

You had to pause your explanation to give yourself a moment to cope with your long buried feelings. It’s been years, but the wounds of that event still stung when you looked back on it. It was like ripping off a bandaid that had been stuck on a scab for a while. It might be old, but the pain still hurt like bugger.

You continued after you managed to contain yourself, “There were some days where I just wished she would just die, not for her sake but for mine and my mother’s. I couldn’t handle seeing her deteriorate more each and every day. Every time my mother had to go in there to feed her or clean the room, she always came out in tears. I knew my grandmother was in a peaceful state, even if her body was failing, but watching her in such a state. I couldn’t bear it; I couldn’t bear to watch the grandmother I loved so much as she was dying.”

At this point, Yoongi had returned from where he was standing and sat back down in his seat, his eyes focused entirely on you as you began to blubber. You noticed the sympathy gleaming in his eyes as your throat tightened and stung. Your voice cracked on several different occasions as you told the story. It’s been years, why were you still so choked up over this? Why did it still hurt so much?

“And then, as I was just watching her body failing her one day, she just…” You couldn’t handle it anymore. The tears were too much to hold back anymore. Tears began streaming down your face in small streams as your body slowly wracked from your sobs. 

You briefly wondered if the reason why you were still broken over this decades later was because you never really told anyone your feelings about the whole issue. Sure, you showed your sorrow at your grandmother’s funeral, but no one ever asked you if you were alright. They all were too concerned over your mourning mother to really focus on you. No one ever told you that it was going to be alright like they told your mother.

Suddenly two arms wrapped themselves around your body, pulling you into comfortingly. You realized that Yoongi had pulled you in for a consoling hug, and you buried your face into his chest, letting your tears wet his shirt. One of his hands rubbed your head soothingly in soft, slow strokes, his fingers running themselves through your smooth hair. He whispered kind words into your ears in a hushed tone. “It’s going to be fine. You’re alright now…”

There it was. The words you’ve been dying to hear since you were a child.

You’re alright now… It’s going to be fine....

You cried and cried into his shirt until your eyes couldn’t produce anymore tears. All the emotions that you had bundled up for years flowed out like a cracked dam. Your head lulled heavily from how spent your body was as you slowly pulled yourself away. Man, you hated how tiring it was to cry.

You rubbed your eyes to wipe away any excess tears that still clung to your face, sniffling every now and then to stop your nose from running with snot. Ugh, you must look horrendous from how hard you sobbed. You hadn’t cried like that in years. Your emotions must have been pent up for so long they suddenly exploded from just telling that story.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized with a weak laugh. “I don’t know what came over me…”

“It’s me who should be saying that,” Yoongi replied in a quiet tone. “I pushed you too hard. I shouldn’t have been so cold to you. You definitely went through some hard times, too.”

You gave him a sad smile as you wiped away the last of your tears. “I don’t think anyone has ever lived an easy life.”

Yoongi smiled back to you faintly and lifted his shoulders in a tiny shrug. “Maybe you’re right.”

You stared at each other for a few moments, just appreciating each other’s company. You felt awfully closer to Yoongi after telling him about the death of your grandmother, even if he hadn’t said anything about his own past. It was nice to know that someone was there for you, ready to wipe away your tears and hold you close. You hadn’t really had anyone like that before you joined this expedition. You had to admit, it was nice to have someone you could depend on in that regard.

However, your serene moment didn’t last long, as suddenly the plane shook with such violence that it nearly threw you out of your seat. Your ears rang like a bell was tolling in them as a loud explosion erupted just outside your window. A scream escaped your lungs as you were then tossed to the floor as the plane lurched up and down a few times, boxes and supplies now thrown everywhere from the plane’s jerky movements. Just what on earth was going on?!

Yoongi, who landed on the floor next to you, suddenly shot up and gripped the nearby armrest for support. He groaned quietly in pain from being thrown to the ground and looked outside the window that you have been staring out of just minutes prior from all of this. He squinted his eyes to focus on the problem before they suddenly widened to the size of saucer plates. His jaw dropped rather unceremoniously as a sharp gasp slipped past his lips.

“Oh… no…”

You crawled back up to your feet and stumbled after Yoongi, nearly falling down a few times from how unstable the plane’s flying had gotten at this point. Once you grabbed onto his shoulders to keep your balance, you looked out the window to see what nearly gave you a heart-attack. And, just like Yoongi, your eyes rounded and your jaw went slack at the sight.

The plane’s turbine was currently up in flames, and it didn’t look like it was going to keep you all in the air for much longer…

“Everyone!” Jimin suddenly screamed from the cockpit, his voice full of terror as he struggled to keep the plane somewhat stable.You heard the sirens and saw the red flashing lights from the cockpit going sending terror through your entire being.  “Grab onto something secure! We’re about to crash!!!”

Oh… fuck… you could never catch a break...

[exhaustedfander]

Drown Me If You Must

A word of warning: This one’s incredibly sad. There is major angst in this one, and the ending can be viewed as suicide, though it’s up for interpreation. 

This oneshot is a rewrite of an original short story I wrote a while back. Originally, the married couple are lesbians and the ocean is personified as a man, but sense it’s moceit, that gets flipped around the ocean’s personified as a woman. This is sad, but I’d love to hear what you think. 

Word Count: 1,916

a03 link

He stared out an open window, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the sea. He watched the water, the foamy waves lapping at the ankles of the last beachgoers of the day as seagulls scoured the beach for crumbs. It was a pleasant, picturesque view, one that most people would tend to enjoy.

Janus didn’t.  

Years ago, the sea took something from him. Something irreplaceable. No, she didn’t take him, people told Janus. It was an accident. A tragedy that could’ve happened to anyone. But Janus knew better. The ocean, for whatever reason, had a burning desire to take away the man that he loved more than anything else in the world, carrying out irreversible cruelty.

Maybe, Janus thought to himself sometimes when he was alone and the house was too quiet, the sea saw how wonderful Patton was and selfishly wanted him for herself. Or maybe he was always hers. Janus had watched the capture, had seen from this very window the beast that she truly was open her gaping maw and swallow his lover whole.

Janus had warned Patton about a million times not to go out that night.

“It’s dangerous,” he’d cautioned nervously, “What if something was to happen? There wouldn’t be anyone to help you.” Janus was by no means a nervous person, but for Patton’s safety, he was always cautious.

“I’ll be extra careful,” Patton promised, “I always am.”

“Be that as it may,” Janus said, eternally weak to the gleam in his husband’s eyes, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You could get hurt. It’s risky…” Patton grinned, wrapping his arms around Janus and pressed his lips to Janus’s ear in a caressing whisper.

“I live for danger.”

This was a blatant lie, so much so, Janus couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Patton was by no means a daredevil. He didn’t enjoy the more dangerous activities life had to offer, instead enjoying tending to potted plants and baking an array of pastel frosted pastries. He worked as a kindergarten teacher who volunteered at the local Animal Shelter on the weekends. He apologized when he bumped into objects and insisted on petting every cat near to him, despite his allergy. Patton was about the least risk-seeking person Janus knew.

But he loved night swimming. Patton adored the ocean and everything about it, swimming in the evening a “wonderfully calming experience,” as he once explained it, but Janus couldn’t understand it. Why was Patton so compelled to put himself in such a situation, at the mercy of the current? What was calm relaxation for Patton petrified his husband.

Janus was terrified of the water and had been since he was young. Swimming in general, especially in the ocean, frightened him so much so that he struggled to stomach the thought of so much as attempting. It’s ironic to think that he moved to a house right by the sea, but he’d done it for Patton.

His husband made him deliriously happy, he had since the day they met. Janus was not a glass half full kind of person. He liked to think he looked at things as rationally as possible, always keen to look out for himself. He’d grown up in a family where it was every man for himself, being provided very little in the ways of affection. Janus had to be tough and watch his own back because as far as he was concerned, no one else was going to do so.

And then he’d met Patton. Bubbly, pun-loving, affectionate Patton, and all semblance of what he was convinced he was destined to be shattered into a million pieces. Janus didn’t think it was possible for him to fall for someone, to give into such intense, emotional feelings. It was dangerous to let his guard down, even a little bit, and yet Patton saw through his hardened exterior with ease. He saw the person Janus was inside, the person he hadn’t been allowed to be for so long, and for the first time in his life, Janus felt nothing but love.

So he moved there for him, so Patton could always be close to the sea.

“Oh you certainly live for danger,” Janus said sarcastically, finding it impossible to smother his smile, despite his nerves. “Do you promise you’ll be cautious?”

“Absealutely,” Patton said with a grin, earning a half-hearted groan from his husband, “I promise, Janny.”

“Okay,” Janus said with a sigh, trusting that things would work out, just as they always had.  What a mistake that had been.

Of course, Janus had run down the beach, barefoot and screaming the name of the man who had stolen his heart as he watched him disappear under the waves. Of course, he had screamed for help, for someone, anyone who could rescue his husband. And of course, it was far too late. Patton was already gone, the sea stealing him away.

Maybe it was ignorant to continue living in that house, watching the very thing that had taken his love away day in and day out, but Janus couldn’t leave. He was bound to this place, no matter how sick with grief it made him. “What if Patton comes back? He won’t know where to find me.” The belief that somehow, in some form, Patton would be back with him someday had remained in his mind every day since the capture.

It had been five long years since that night. Janus cut ties with the few other people he’d been close with, unequipped to deal with their false sympathy any longer. Even Remus, someone who Janus had considered his closest friend had given up after a few years. Janus didn’t make any effort to maintain the relationship; what was the point?

Loneliness commanded his fragile heart most days, leaving Janus in an ever-present state of mourning. The house, after all this time, had remained relatively the same. Every photograph that was hung up was still there, all of Patton’s things still neat on the shelves. Janus hadn’t bothered to change any of the furniture around, either. The only thing that was strikingly different from that house that was once a home was the absence of Patton.

The breaking point came on a particularly cold, lonesome night. Janus hadn’t slept well in years; being awake late was nothing new. He tossed and turned sleeplessly, desperate for the rest he’d sought for out for too long.

It occurred to her suddenly, realization washing over him like the unrelenting crashing of waves. It didn’t matter how long time stretched on or how desperate he was to wipe Patton from his memory. The gaping hole in his chest where a heart once beat would remain empty without his husband by his side.

The epiphany set him into motion.

He rose slowly from the bed, pushing the blankets off and standing up uneasily. The wood floor groaned beneath his feet as he walked out of his bedroom, the house so dark he could barely see. He didn’t bother to turn on a light.

Janus wandered through the house, head thick with fog, and stopped just short of walking out the front door. Janus hesitated for the briefest moment, his hand grazing the door handle before he took a deep sure, deep breath and opened it, stepping out into the night.

The sand was cool under Janus’s bare feet, ivory moonbeams illuminating the waves. The smell of sea salt hung in his nostrils and suddenly, he’s back to that night, Patton’s echoed screams replaying again and again. Panic buzzed through Janus’s body, all instincts telling him to go back inside, crawl under the covers and pretend tomorrow would be better. He let a sigh roll past his lips, toes curling in the sand as he stared determinedly at the rolling waves.

No. He couldn’t turn back. Not now.

He plodded slowly down the beach until freezing foamy water was grazing over his feet. Janus felt his fear crippling him, weighing him down like a stone tossed into the water but he stood tall regardless, rebelling against the sinking feeling. He’d do this for his husband.

Janus stood still for a moment, feet soaking in the biting water before shouting in the loudest, most accusing voice he can muster: “You!”

The waves, as if paused by some god above, ceased their crashing the water stilled. All was quiet.

“You took something from me. Something irreplaceable!” He shouted despite the fear bubbling in the pit of his stomach and the shivers that racked his body. It didn’t matter that Janus was as terrified as he had been that night. He’d get his husband back one way or another, in this world or the next.

Janus swallowed down whatever remaining hesitations and continued, his voice quavering with grief.

“And now I want him back. I’m not afraid of you, not anymore.” Janus had always had a talent for deception. It wasn’t something he used against his husband, and he was calculated with his implementing of falsehoods, but it was a tool he found to be useful. The same was no less true now; terror coursing through his veins. Even so, he relieved the sentiment with such courage even the likes of the sea herself might believe him. Still, the water remained unmoved.

“I don’t care what you do to me.” Tears tumbled down Janus’s cheeks and there was a deep, haunting sorrow to the way he spoke, “You can kill me if you’d like. No one will believe it, regardless. It’ll be another ‘tragic accident’.” Janus slumped to his knees, teardrops dripping into the water as granules of sand stuck to his skin. This is how it was meant to go; Janus knew that now. “Drown me, if you must. I just want to see him again. I just want my husband back.”

The haunting quiet that had drifted through the last several minutes shattered as the tide was quickly sucked in from under Janus, sweeping him deeper into the water. Janus didn’t struggle, didn’t fight it, instead going limp.

He allowed the current to carry him far enough to a point he was no longer able to stand, beginning to flounder as the waves crest not far off. The sound was more peaceful than anything he’d ever heard and the impending sense of dread he’d expected never came. A final exasperated smile graced his face as a wave of considerable size and power swept him under, showing no mercy as she drove him down and Janus’s lungs filled with water.

The moon illuminated the otherwise black sea that Janus descended into. Years ago, a death such as this was Janus’s greatest fear, but now all it brought on was calm and peace. Finally, peace. Janus closed his eyes, letting go as he thought of finally seeing Patton again, a vision of his smile warming Janus’s frozen body as everything faded to black.

Maybe he was the one who the sea had claimed, the one destined to be taken, not Patton. Maybe it was both of them, two prisoners for the price of one. Or perhaps Janus was just a man so sick with the loss of his husband that he did what was necessary to finally see him again. Regardless, Janus found the peace he was searching for, a beauty that far outshined a sunset out an open window that captured a scene he was too tormented by to live with any longer.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar, @unoriginalgayboyalex, @maryann-draws, @bella-in-a-bag, @igonnatalknothing, @elizabutgayer, @wishthefish916

Let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist! I’d be happy to add folks. 

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

I need a Backdoor

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

“Why is Wally wearing a straw hat?” Five asked entering the Haunted House followed by the big dog, you immediately looked at One;

“It’s hot out there!” he shrugged

“It’s a desert, One!” she took the hat away from the dog, flinging it on the other side of the room “It’s nonsense.”

“That’s not nice.” He started sweet talking to Wally, petting his belly, it was definitely embarrassing to watch, until Two cleared her throat.

The lawyer’s phone had gave you Rovach’s Four generals – hacking their previous transmissions you intercepted calls and mails, one in particular was your next move, they were going to meet Viktor, a notorious arms dealer in..

“Las Vegas has more facial recognition software than any place on Earth.”

“They actually employ the best hackers, White Hats, in case someone tries to break in their security system. I’m good but they’re like 10 of them and they’re better, trained and all”

“I should have got one of those.” One said out loud, you silently flicked him off.

Three was loving this already “Oh, I know what I’m gonna be.”

“Choose your disguises wisely.” One insisted

Four grinned at Two and Three “So we’ll just hang out in a Las Vegas Suite, while you do the dirty work?”

And Four was right, One had booked a Suite in one of the best Hotel Vegas had. You were enjoying the suite pool overlooking the green penthouse, where Five was on the treadmill facing the desert view. One was putting his stupid disguise on; you had laughed so hard when Three came out of the 3rd bathroom looking like a very bad wax sculpture. Thank god One didn’t saw them before they took off or he’ll had abort the mission.

“Care if I join? ” you recognized Four’s British accent, he removed his shirt, before you could say anything, thank god he was not stark naked, yet you were already drooling.

“If we get caught, I swear to god I’ll drown you in this very pool” you look above the edge, watching Five running.

“You worry too much.“ He seized your waist sliding your body to his, water splashing between your bodies as he pressed you against him, you gasped. “One left, Five has the talkie just in case, and she’s gone for a long run on that bloody engine.” He lifted an eyebrow waiting ..., slowly leaning in and biting his lower lip was your answer. Who knew an infinity pool could overflow so much ..

 Spread on the bed in nothing but knickers and crop tee, cracking the last bit of program you needed, you felt the bed dipped behind you. Four sprawled next to you, his warm hand brushing your thigh until it rested on your hip. One and Three were out there, trying to access Viktor’s personal data. The comm link was on speaker on your laptop,

“Do you think she gets off hacking stuff?” you rolled your eyes at Three’s question, he still didn’t get how the “communication link” work.

“I don’t wanna know! One said in total disgust. That brain of yours is a mystery to me.”

“Ok, cracked it. And Three? You’ve ruined my climax!”

Four almost spit his water, trying to contain his laughter.

“Coglione” you muttered, Four regained his composure rolling on his chest.

One sighed “Thanks Eight, now I have an image planted deep inside my brain.” 

“Bet it’s in black&white, old man.” you mute your end of the comm link, and One cut the line.

You look at Four on your left, he was resting his head on his arms, resting his eyes. Your ring finger gently brushed the scar on his left eyebrow to his temple. “You know we have a saying for that” 

“Hm?”

“Did it happened when One found you?”

“Not sure we can talk about that..” a flash of hesitation crossed his feature

You look at him jaded “Yeah like what we’ve done so far is totally allowed by One..”

“It’s not the same.” he kissed your wrist

“Okay” you shrugged kissing the scar on his temple, 

“I fell … well someone could have saved me, but didn’t and I fell .. from at least 5 floors”

“Holy shit! Ooh wait ..someone ..the backstabbing girlfriend?”

he just nodded pursing his lips “Girlfriend ptsd, just my luck!”

He pushed you on your back, capturing your lips with his.

“Hey, I’ve got you, you know that.” You sounded serious all of sudden

It took a second to sink in “Same here!” 

 Back in the desert for at least 2 days, Four insisted on doing some parkour training, teaching you some new moves, Five joined while Two watched from afar over her sunglasses.

“Should I be scared or confident?” you asked totally not reassured about the jump you were going to take. Four scoffed “Confident 100%, what kind of question is that?!”

Five was as hesitant as you “I can do a lot but that’s scary, I don’t want to break my teeth.”

You nodded her way then looked down to Four “I’d rather keep mine too.”

“Come on!” he clapped his hands from the ground,

“We ain’t Wally, stop doing that!”

“Why are the chiquitas on the plane’s wing?” Three asked Two

“Why do you think. Training.” She answered unbothered, Three shrugged going back in the Haunted House.

“You’ll have to come down,” Four kicked the ladder down

“ ¡Cabrón!” Five stomped her foot making the wing wobble slightly, you quickly grabbed her arm for stability.

“Please don’t do that! you panicked a bit, let’s jump and kick his ass, okay?” you proposed. She smiled, taking your hand.

 1 of the general Two and Three killed in Las Vegas, gave you where Murat was “imprisoned”. Ni Hai Tower, in Hong Kong. Never been there, could be cool you thought. On the way to the private jet you were talking to One “Just be real careful coz this shit is pretty fragile, one crack on the screen and we’re doomed!” when Seven’s voice boomed from few meters behind.

“Hey, One, you ever plan on calling me Six?”

One glanced at you very subtly before shouting back, “No.”

“Okay.” Seven chuckled

Since he joined he kept asking about being Six, One refused to tell him who was Six, it was playing on your nerves. Since Four told him your brother was the one who died, couldn’t he do the math from there! But again, you were Eight so the all number thing was a bit fucked up.

“Why can’t we tell him?” you asked him

“It won’t change anything.”

“He’d stop asking!” you argued, playing with the cross around your neck, you look back catching Four’s soft gaze.

Fifth chapter - Die Hard 

A/N: don’t forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

[the-drakeboys]

Come Back to Me - Pt. 2

Summary: They just have to get out - they just have to get back to you. With guns pointed at their backs and Rafe up ahead, the Drake brothers will fight to make it out of the prison. 

But that’s easier said than done.

And back at the boat, where Rafe’s driver and Sully’s voice over the phone are all you have to distract you, the gnawing thought that things might’ve gone sideways just won’t leave you alone. 

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 2,891

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death and loss, suicidal thoughts. Here comes the angst, y’all.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the feedback on Pt. 1! It’s amazing to see that Sam’s still getting love after all this time. Let’s be honest, he really deserves it! And so do all of you, thank you so much. Hope you enjoy Pt. 2!

This is a (mini) series! You can find Part One here.

---

“Go, Nathan, go!” Sam’s voice sent chills down his brother’s spine as they both ran with everything they had, darting from corridors to walls to rooftops. “We have to catch up with Rafe!” 

Bullets were flying all around them, every guard in the prison after the brothers with guns in hand.

“I thought you said you trusted him!” Nate shouted back, vaulting over some piping and sliding his way to a gated crawlspace. 

“I do… to a point,” Sam admitted through his heavy breaths, helping Nate lift the gate. They just had to get to the boat - they just had to get back to you. Just before they were separated, Rafe was saying it wasn’t far, that they were getting closer; but the Drakes felt completely turned around. 

“What do we do?” Nate’s question was full of adrenaline; where do they go from here? 

“We’re almost there,” Sam lied, the memory of his promise to you echoing in the back of his head. “We just gotta keep movin’.” 

---

“I’m sure he’s fine, darlin’,” Sully chuckled over the phone. You sat at the back end of the boat, your med gear stuffed in its waterproof pack beside you and your knee bouncing absentmindedly. Over at the wheel, Rafe’s driver stood in muted silence as he had for the past three and a half hours, all of your attempts at conversation going absolutely nowhere. He was a joy to be around. 

“Of course he is,” you laughed, rolling your eyes, “Aren’t they always?” You relaxed back against the side of the boat, tipping a bottle of cool water to your lips and taking a hefty swig. Sully’s voice could be heard talking to someone on the other side, probably the pretty hotel bartender he’d been flirting with all afternoon, and you found yourself starting to think aloud. “I mean, it’s not like they are...literally constantly getting themselves into trouble, getting beat up, getting shot at…” 

Your gaze flitted back to the cliffside just north of where your boat sat floating over gentle waves, knowing that the erratic beat of your anxious heart would refuse to settle until you saw them sliding out of the jungle and down into the ocean below. “Shit, Sully. What is it about those two that makes me worry so much?” 

Victor sighed on the other end of the phone, and you could hear him puffing on his latest cigar. “Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, kiddo, I don’t think it’s the two of them that’s got you feelin’ so out of sorts. I know you love Nate and all, but you and Sam… You two have been attached at the hip for years now.”

You cleared your throat, reaching up with your free hand to rub at your aching temple. “Can’t argue with you there… This is the first gig since Moscow I haven’t been with them on.” Over by the steering wheel, Rafe’s driver - Josh, you thought it was - wiped at some sweat above his brow. He looked awfully uncomfortable. As you listened to Sully, you reached into the cooler to your left and tugged a fresh bottle of water from the ice. 

“For Christ’s sake, I’m not talkin’ about the work, y/n/n,” Sully muttered. You waved over at Josh, motioning with the water bottle to toss it over to him. Though you’d managed to get his attention, he stoically refused the water, giving you a curt nod instead.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Well then what the hell are you talkin’ about, Victor?” Still focused on Sully’s words, you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder and walked up to Josh. 

“You didn’t have to-” he started to protest.

“Oh, just take it,” you insisted, a kind smile on your face as he tilted his head in gratitude and finally accepted the water. 

He tipped the bottle to you. “Thanks.” 

“I’m talkin’ about you two bein’ about as close to church bells as I’ve ever seen a treasure hunter get,” Sully retorted.

You let out a blurted laugh and shook your head, mouthing ‘don’t mention it’ to Josh and heading back to your seat. “Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?” You lifted a hand to block the sun from your eyes, feeling droplets of water splash your shoulder as a large wave broke against the side of the boat. “Besides, Sam and I aren’t the ‘settle down’ types. There’s too much adventure out there, you know that.” 

You could see him in your head, tapping the ashes off the end of his cigar as he sat forward at the bar, shaded by the roof of the hotel cabana and surrounded by tourists. And you knew that even with the confidence and certainty in your voice, he saw right through your words. Sam was all that mattered to you, and it was painfully evident that the adventures that’d once been everything now came second to Samuel Morgan. 

“Maybe so,” he started, “But some things-” 

His voice was drowned out then by a sound you’d been afraid of since you stepped on the boat - a barrage of gunfire coming straight from the prison. You were on your feet in a split second, Josh not far behind you.

“Oh shit,” you cut him off. “Sully, I fuckin’ told you.”

Sully’s voice changed, knowing in that instant that the job had gone wrong. “What is it? What’s going on?” 

---

“There it is!” Nate shouted, following Rafe from roof to roof, each jump more exhausting than the last. Sam kept up the rear, watching his brother’s back as they fought to get back to the boat. 

“Alright, keep going, I’m right behind you!” Sam pushed, launching himself forward and barely catching onto the rusted bars outside a window. Fuck, he thought to himself as another three guards came running around a corner. Just a little further. C’mon. He grunted as he tugged himself up the side of the building, eyes on Nathan just ahead - he was still good. Still running.

“On me!” Rafe barked, “Get to the wall, NOW!” 

“Sam!” Nate yelled back over his shoulder, not feeling his brother nearly as close as he needed to.

Don’t worry about me, Nathan, Sam thought, making another jump just behind him. “Just keep going! Go!” 

Nate could see the edge now, the treetops and greenery of the jungle just ahead. He just needed to make one more jump - one last rooftop to cross. With an enormous leap and an “ah, hell!” for good measure, the younger Drake made it, barely catching onto a pipe and feeling one side of it give underneath him. 

Loud shouts from guards closing in could be heard behind them as Nate struggled to pull himself up, finally crawling over the edge to see Rafe taking cover with a gun in hand. 

He turned, and there Sam was, waiting on the other building - pinned down against a barrier. “Sam!” Nate reached his arm out. “C’mon! I’ll pull you up!” 

Sam saw his baby brother there, arm outstretched, waiting to run with him into the jungle where a few hundred feet of trees and mud and rock was all that separated him from the boat, from escaping the guards and the guns and this godawful prison and finally getting back to you. 

Without giving himself time to overthink it, he made a break for it, legs pushing him off the edge and arms swinging wildly as he flew through the air. “I gotcha!” Nate shouted in relief, his hand catching Sam tightly around the wrist. “C’mon!” 

With all his strength, he pulled, his brother grabbing onto the edge of the roof. 

Tak, tak, tak.

Bullets shattered against the metal siding, all around Sam, and Nate was desperate to pull his brother from the line of fire. Tugging on his arm, trying to lift. 

But he wasn’t moving. He was silent. Just staring up at Nathan, not making a sound. In all the guards’ shouting and the wailing of the alarm, the gunfire and Rafe’s berating from over Nate’s shoulder, somehow everything had gone incredibly quiet. 

Sam hung there, on the side of the building, and he knew. In that moment. 

He was going to break his promise to you. 

“Sam -- no,” Nate blurted, his heart sinking and stomach turning as blood spurted from his older brother’s lips. “No, you hold on!” He couldn’t hold on. God knows he was trying to. But he couldn’t. 

He fell, hanging by Nate’s iron grasp on his wrist, and he looked up at his brother, fighting to stay awake. He just wanted to say something - anything, to let him know it was gonna be okay. “Sam!” Nate was desperate. His other hand reached down, begging him to fight, to just be able to get up and over that ledge. “Gimme your other arm!” 

But Sam’s head dropped. He felt the air draining out of his lungs, could feel the breeze against the blood soaking through his shirt. He saw your face smiling down at him. Heard your laughter fill a room. Felt your fingers in his hair. 

His eyes closed. “C’mon, reach!” his little brother pleaded. Nate’s grip was slipping. “No!”

Nate’s grip… slipped.

He lost him then, watched him fall, cascading down and down, his body crashing through an old metal awning. He disappeared into the darkness below. He was gone.

“Sam!” Nate’s scream echoed through the prison. 

Bullets raining down over him forced him back from the ledge, cowering as tears burned their way down his cheeks. Rafe reappeared then, grabbing at Nate’s shoulder as if there was nothing they could do. 

“We gotta move,” he urged. 

“No, no, he’s still down there,” Nate bumbled, his entire body shaken, eyes glassy. 

“No, he’s gone. C’mon, the boat’s just beyond the wall.” Nate just turned, looking to where his brother had been just thirty seconds before. 

“No… No, I can’t.” He was gonna throw up. His stomach was in his throat. Sam. Sam couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t. “I can’t -- I can’t leave him behind.” 

“Nate!” Rafe’s voice was sharp, “Your brother is dead.” The words struck him, deep in his core. “Either come with me or join him.” 

---

You stood at the back of the boat, staring intently at the edge of the jungle. All you needed was to see the three of them leap down into the water, and you’d be fine. 

“How long’s the flight from Mexico City?” you spoke into the phone, turning to Josh and pointing over at the landing point. “Get us around this bend, as close as you can.” 

“Hang on to somethin’,” Josh shot back, taking the wheel. 

“Goddamnit, kid, I don’t know. Maybe three, three and a half hours.” He was out of breath, he was on the move. “Need a ride outta there?” 

You eyed the open ocean ahead of you, knowing that once the boys made it, it’d be thirty minutes of travel across the water to the rendezvous point. The chances of making that distance with the cops on your tail weren’t good. 

“Maybe - hopefully not, but I’m hearin’ fireworks like the fourth of July up there.” Not only was there endless gunfire, but the impossibly loud sirens in the distance told you that every guard in the entire prison was after the boys - and they weren’t messing around. “If we can’t run, we’re gonna have to hide until you can swing through. I promise I’ll get you back for this.” 

Josh pulled the boat as close to the cliffside as he could while leaving room for them to land. You both watched the cliff’s edge, vigilant and ready. Your hand rested on the gun at your hip, comforted by its presence there. 

“Don’t you worry about that, darlin’. Just get outta there quick as you can, I’m grabbin’ my things now and I’ll be on the plane in twenty.” 

You cleared your throat, that familiar terror thumping in your chest as your mind painted in vibrant colors every nightmare scenario that could be laid out in front of you. “Sounds good. I’ve got the sat phone with me, so if you can’t get me on this...” 

“I know where to reach you. Got it.” 

“Thanks, Sully. I’ll uhh…” You could feel the nerves bubbling up into your shaken voice. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Let’s hope it’s just for beers and laughs, eh?” he quipped. You managed a chuckle, and he did the same, signing off and ending the call. 

“Think we’ll be followed?” Josh questioned, one hand on the steering wheel and the other shielding his eyes as he looked up. 

“Let’s hope not,” you sighed, sending a nervous smile his way. Worry flashed over his face, though he hid it well. “But I trust you, I think you’ll get us out of here just fine.” 

“You’ll hold me to that, right?” he said with a grin. 

You opened your mouth to offer a retort, when finally - your prayers were answered. Relief washed over you as rocks tumbled down into the sea, Rafe’s flailing form following them closely. They made it. “Thank god,” you breathed, hurrying forward to lean over the edge of the boat and give him a hand. 

As he swam over to you, a revolver in his hand, your eyes moved back up to see what looked like Nate plummeting through the air and crash landing just behind Rafe. “Come on up,” you chuckled, anxiety travelling through you as Josh helped you lift the sopping wet money-man into the boat. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rafe staggered forward, propping himself up by the controls. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” 

“Hang on,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Give ‘em a minute, will you?” 

Nate was barely swimming. He felt like he couldn’t move. His whole body was numb and in horrible pain all at once. A black hole had formed in his chest, and as he slowly drifted toward you, he wished he’d stayed back - he wished he’d died there with his brother. 

“Nate!” you laughed, “Some time today, we’ve still got cops to contend with, you know.” The relief on your face killed him inside. He reached up, weakly taking your hand and letting both you and Josh pull him onto the safety of the small boat. 

“Alright, c’mon, Sam,” you thought aloud, eyes back on the edge of the jungle, fingers tapping impatiently on your gun and a soft smile on your face as you thought about drinkin’ mojitos and dancin’ in the sunset.

“Let’s go,” Rafe’s voice ordered. 

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. Josh stood in silence for a moment, looking between you.

Rafe ignored you, pointing him to the wheel. “Now! Before they have a chance to follow us.” Josh slunked his way to the wheel and shifted the boat into drive, his head hung low. 

You made a mental note to kick the living shit out of Rafe once this was all over. “Just fucking hold on! He’ll make it. Give him another minute.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s not coming! He’s dead!” he bellowed, his face red and eyes ablaze. 

“You don’t know that!” You marched toward him, fists balled up at your sides, about ready to break his jaw.

With his eyes burning into you, he gave one final order to the man behind him. “Hit the goddamn gas and get us out of this shithole!”  The boat rocketed away from the cliffside, Josh at the helm and looking full to the brim with shame. 

You lurched forward, “What the fuck are you doing?! Are you out of your mind?!” Your hands grabbing at the wheel, the controls, your disbelief overwhelming you.

“Back off!” Rafe shoved you back by your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. You felt the boat halt in the water, and watched as Josh yanked Rafe back from you. “Get the fuck off me!” With one quick movement, Rafe smashed the butt of his gun into Josh’s face, causing him to stumble back against the side of the boat. 

“Fuck!” Josh spurted, holding his nose.

“You piece of shit! You’re crazy! We are not leaving him!” You turned to face the younger Drake, clambering back to your feet and gesturing wildly at Rafe, “Nate, are you hearing this?!” A beat. “Nate?!” You had to go back, you had to get back as fast as possible, he was probably treading water at that very moment, shouting for you to turn back. You just needed… to...

...wait.

Your eyes landed on him. On Nate. 

Nate, crumpled up in a ball, soaked to the bone and trembling like a leaf, hands hovering over his face and skin paler than you’d ever seen as he sat huddled in the corner. 

Nate, who’d stayed silent, no quips, no jokes, no ‘that was a close one’s. 

Nate… who couldn’t look you in the eye.

You chanced a few steps closer, but your body suddenly felt numb.

“Nate?” you asked in confusion, your head turning to look back up at the cliffside. The quiet there was deafening. The gunfire had stopped. Why was there no gunfire? 

Nathan felt you grasping at straws. He wanted to be swallowed whole. He wanted to disappear.

“Nate…” Your lungs burned. “Wh-Where… Where is he?” 

---

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[kyber-kisses]

Toes in the Sand

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: it be both fluffy and angsty. prepare for feels.

Summary: Dean was always talking about how he wanted to go to the beach with you, Sam, and Cas. But things don’t always go as planned.

A/n:This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I finally finished it! I hope yall enjoy, and please tell me what you thought!

You never thought in a million years that you would actually make it. That you would get to have an actual vacation. For hunters, that wasn’t usually something that was in the books for them. . . But here you were, toes in the sand and sitting next to your favorite person in the whole world. It almost felt like a dream.

Dean let out a sigh, leaning back on his hands as he stretched his legs out, the heels of his feet digging into the slowly cooling sand. “This nice. I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Agreed. Are Sam and Eileen still on that scenic hike?”

“Hell if I know.” Dean shrugged, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, soaking in the final rays of the setting sun.

The sky before you was painted a light apricot color, streaks of dusty pink mixing together to form a spectacular sunset as the blazing orange ball of fire began to sink below the palm trees to the west. Somewhere in the distance a band of katydids and crickets struck up a tune, the sound mixing perfectly with the gentle crash of waves hitting the beach. The water itself was a beautiful turquoise blue that put other shades to shame.

For the first time, in a very long time, everyone was relaxed. It was almost eerie in a way. You had gotten so used to the stress of hunting that the feeling was foreign. . . But you welcomed it greatly.

“We should probably start heading back.” You sighed, brushing the sand off your hands as you stood up.

The Winchester besides you let out a groan, grabbing onto the hand that you extended to him so you could pull him up, “Do we have to?”

Letting out a light laugh, you kept your fingers tangled with his, beginning your walk down the shore line, “Yes, we do. We promised we would meet back up with Sam and Eileen for dinner.”

“Right.”

A soft breeze rippled across your skin as you walked, making the loose fabric against you flutter slightly. The tropical printed shirt was about two sizes too big for you, but it worked as an excellent cover up, plus, it was almost an identical match to the one Dean was wearing. Though he would never admit it out loud, you knew he loved it.

“At some point, I’m gonna have to take you surfing.” You smiled, eyes shifting to watch the whitecaps on the horizon.

“You know how to surf?” Dean questioned, turning to look at you with a slightly shocked expression.

“Yeah, when I was younger and living with my aunt for a few months, she taught me. I got good at it pretty quick.” You shrugged, feeling your feet sink into the wet sand as the tide came in, soaking your ankles.

“Okay, but me on a board? That’s just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Winchester.”

“Alright. Fine.” Dean smiled, leaning over to plant a soft kiss to your temple.

Up ahead, you watched as a group of sandpipers danced across the sand, their little legs taking them quickly towards the retreating tide. The small shorebirds undoubtedly going in search of food.

“Are you happy, Dean?” You spoke suddenly, tearing your eyes away from the birds to look up at him. When he locked eyes with you, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The usual dullness in his eyes was gone, once again filled with the vibrant green you had missed so much.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he did, “Yeah, yeah I’m happy. Are you?” He breathed, giving your hand another squeeze.

You nodded, finding his smile to be infectious as he looked at you with that oh so familiar soft gaze. It felt like someone was waving sparklers inside your chest. You could feel the white hot stars jumping off of them.

He was happy.

You almost caught him off guard when you stopped in your tracks, moving to the latch your arms around him, pulling him into an earth shattering hug.

“Woah! What’s this for?” He wheezed, not hesitating to wind his arms around your waist, resting his chin in the crook of your neck.

“I just love you. That all.”my mumbled, breathing in the scent of the coconut body wash he had been using, “and I’m glad that you're happy.”

You allowed Dean to pull away after a moment, his jade irises locking onto you with what could only be described as full adoration, and then he was sealing his lips against your own. His arms stayed locked around your waist as he picked you up, spinning you around with a light laugh against your lips.

He seemed so much younger in that moment. Like he hadn’t just lived through a lifetime of pain and monsters. There was something almost childlike to it all.

“Y/n, don’t leave. Not yet. Not like this.” Dean spoke suddenly, setting you back down on the damp sand.

Drawing you eyebrows together, you tilted your head, looking up at him, “What are you talking about? I’m right here-“

And then the landscape flickered.

The apricot sky fizzled out, and the palm trees faded into nothing, drowning you in a starless night sky. The breeze suddenly much cooler. A clap of thunder overhead made you jolt, successfully drowning out the harsh crash of waves momentarily. There was a storm nearby. You could smell it in the air.

It was all so loud, and frightening and nothing like the paradise you were just living in.

You tried moving, but you were suddenly stopped short by a pair of hands gripping your shoulders, “Y/n, I need you to stay still for me, okay?”

Dean.

Through blurred vision, you blinked, trying to take in your surroundings.

“What’s happening? Where are we?” You breathed.

And then you felt it. The pain rippling through your body in dense waves. Slowly, you raised a shaky hand to your abdomen, immediately regretting it when your finger grazed the deep gashes. You let out a sharp yell, head falling back onto the sand.

You were injured. Badly.

“It hurts. God, it hurts so much.” You breathed, unable to fight the pain coursing through your body.

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. Just stay with me.” Deans voice was heavy with panic as he looked down at you. The flannel he had used earlier to try and slow the bleeding was now completely stained crimson.

He should have been more alert. The werewolves had come almost out of nowhere, completely catching you guys off guard.

This was all his fault.

You flinched at the sudden contact of a calloused set of hands cradling your face, Deans silhouette hung over you, his face drawn up in worry.

“Y/n, I need you to stay awake okay? I need you to stay awake for me.”

“Where are we?”

“Ludington, remember? We were hunting a couple of werewolves.�� His voice shaky as he tried to explain it to you.

And then it all came flooding back to you, and suddenly you were drowning in memories. You were never on vacation. You, Sam and Dean had gone to work a werewolf case up in north western Michigan. You eventually ended up chasing a couple of them down the beach.

You remembered passing by an empty boardwalk, and an old playground partially lit up by yellow tinted street lamps. There was a slide. The kind that was made of metal and was a nightmare on stilts during the summer. The kind that you looked at and knew that if you slid down it, your shorts and skin would undoubtedly catch fire.

You don’t know why you latched on to that recent memory, but you did.

And then you realized what had happened after that. They were stronger than you had predicted. The claws sharper than you remembered. And the pain worse than ever.

The gashes on your stomach. That’s what they were from. A werewolf.

“Y/n, dammit! I need you to listen to me!” Deans voice cracked again as he lightly slapped your face, pulling your attention towards him.

“Sam. Where is Sam? Is he okay?” You muttered, feeling your body slowly begin to relax. This wasn’t good.

“He went to go get the car. Your losing a lot of blood, y/n. I need you to stay awake.” He demanded, desperately trying to hide the fear in his tone. Even through the darkness and your slowly blurring vision, you could see the panic in his eyes.

“You were so happy.” Your breath coming out shallow as you spoke, mind going back to the paradise you had been residing in.

“What?”

You took a shallow breath, wincing as another wave of pain shot up your body. God, you were tired. You were so tired. And cold. Very, very cold.

“On the beach. You kept holding my hand.” You sighed, your body growing heavier by the minute.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always talking about how you want to go on a vacation. Somewhere tropical. . .I dreamt about it.” You swallowed slowly, feeling the first tears race down the side of your face to collect on the damp sand. “We were wearing matching Hawaiian shirts. We were happy.”

Dean had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down in sobs. You were losing so much blood, and he had no clue how long it would be until Sam got here. One of his hands fell from your face, reaching for your hand. The color was beginning to drain out of your features and you had a dazed, yet sad look in your eyes. You were fading quickly, he could feel it in his bones.

He needed to keep you talking, keep you awake. “Tell me more about it.” He breathed, squeezing your hand, which you returned, except with only a quarter of the force.

“Sandpipers. They kept strutting across the sand. You found them amusing. I thought it was adorable.” You smiled weakly, eyelids growing heavy as you looked up at him.

“Sound about right.” He chuckled, his own eyes darting down to the deep gashes torn into your stomach.

With each passing second, he was getting closer and closer to losing you.

“Maybe when I’m better, we can go.” You mumbled. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore. You were just numb now. It almost felt like you were drifting in the waves that were just out of reach from where you lay.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do that. You, me, Sam and Cas. Eileen too. A proper vacation.” Dean nodded, feeling his own tears leave his cheeks to collect on yours. His thumb moving to stroke them away and his breathing quickened, “Toes in the sand, how bout that?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead you were taken over by a small fit of coughs, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. You were burning at the very end of your wick now. You weren’t going to make it. But at least you didn’t hurt anymore.

Dean had never known fear like this before as he looked down at you, lips painted crimson as you continued to cough up blood. As gently as he could, he shifted from his position, wrapping his arms underneath you so he could partially pull you into his lap, your head resting in the crook of his elbow.

“It’s okay. I got you. I’m right here.” He swallowed, trying not to let his voice crack as he looked down at you. He needed you to know that you weren’t alone. That he was still with you.

His heart was breaking off in pieces though, as he kept his gaze on you. There was nothing he could do to help you here. He had no clue how long it would be until Sam got here.

Mustering what strength you had left in you, you raised a shaky hand, resting you palm against his cheek, his big green eyes full of pain as he looked down at you.

“Toes in the sand.” You smiled weakly, using the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears trailing down his cheek.

You took another shallow breath, the air coming out shaky, and your hand slid from his face, and the last bits of his heart that had been breaking shattered.

“No,no,no y/n stay with me! I need you to stay with me!” He breathed, panic seeping into his bones as he went into begging mode, slightly shaking you in his arms. “Just for a little longer, please.” His voice cracked.

But deep down, he knew it was too late. Your breathing had stilled, mouth still partially open as your eyes glazed over, the light in them flickering out.

Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he shook his head in defeat, his forehead coming to rest against you own, “Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.”

It was ten minutes later that Sam found his brother in that same position, his arms locked around you as he held you against his chest, his lips pressed to your temple as his eyes remained shut, in fear that if he opened them the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

The younger Winchester let his feet carry him quickly across the sand, falling to his knees in front of him, “Dean, is she still ali-“

“No. She gone.” He sighed, moving once more to rest his head against yours.

Sam slid his hand into your limp one, squeezing it lightly he tried to fight back his own tears, “I’m sorry. I tried to get here as fast as possible.”

Dean slowly shook his head, his jaw clenching almost as if it were a shock absorber for his pain. You were supposed to live. You were supposed to be happy and full of life. Not an empty shell in his arms. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Slowly he opened his eyes, looking down at you. He had closed your lids, hoping it would make it look like you were sleeping. . . But it didn’t work. He brushed a stand of loose hair away from your face, fingers skimming over the cool skin.

“I’ll see you on the other side. Toes in the sand.”

The End.

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[crowbarstodd]

Course Of Nature (4)

Chapter Summary: *banging pots together* DAMINETTE! DAMINETTE! Word Count: 3,272 Rating: G Paring: DAMINETTE!

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

Rena Rogue gagged as soon as she opened an aging door, hands covering her nose and mouth as she took a large step back. “This place stinks!”

Marinette felt inclined to agree with Rena Rogue, nose wrinkling as a foul stench invaded her nostrils, so strong her eyes stung from unshed tears. “You’ll have to get used to it,” Marinette said regretfully, “we’ll be spending some time here.”

Rena moaned, edging inside carefully, nose still pinched between two fingers.

The little off-white townhouse they’d been sent to investigate in Paris’ nineteenth arrondissement was almost charming at first sight. It sat trapped between a high fence marking the end of the street, and a baby-pink, connecting unit with a strip of green at the front only just large enough to fit a few common elder hedges.

The place itself was only slightly overrun by weeds, not enough to appear unseemly, which was probably why it was left alone by most of the unsuspecting neighbours. Marinette herself would have overlooked it completely had it not been for the large mold stain on the bottom right side of the door, and the putrid stench that coated the home. Oh, and the mission sent by Batman and Master Fu.

The inside was drowned in dust and rust, and none of the lights would turn on, so she and Rena resigned themselves to exploring the place with the limited light their torches provided.

“This is literally the worst villain hideout. Unhygienic and unaesthetic is what this place is,” Rena griped, searching through shelves for anything that looked mildly useful.

“There’s no proof this was a hideout. Just that Queen Bee sent a package here about two months ago.”

Rena stopped in her tracks. “Queen Bee? Like, Chloe?”

“No, like the politician.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

Marinette sighed, tilting her head to the sky, eyes shut. “I thought Chat gave you a debrief?”

“Sure, but he didn’t use any names. Just said that another villain sent a package probably for Hawkmoth.”

Wily cat, making her do all the annoying jobs. She’d get him neutered the next time she saw him. “Queen Bee is a corrupt Bialyan leader, part of the light.”

“So not Chloe?”

“Not Chloe,” Marinette confirmed.

“What do we call Chloe then?”

Tired of the conversation, and without any real answers to give, Marinette returned to searching the room for clues. “Call her whatever you want, Rena.”

“Bitch it is!”

“No.”

She zoned out Rena’s following playful whinges, focused on the wooden desk that sat alone in the otherwise empty room connected to the living room that Rena was investigating.

With careful hands she pulled the drawer of the desk open, worrying her lip as her heart pumped with excitement. Where else would one keep a package but their desk?

It was empty.

Disappointed, she shut it closed, only to hear Rena’s resounding shriek.

The living room was a mess of white.

An upturned milk bottle appeared to have fallen from atop the cupboard above the stove. It must have been balancing precariously already, relying on the shut door for stability, and tipping over when Rena pulled the cupboard open.

She stood in the center of the kitchen, an orange lighthouse in a sea of white, utterly drenched, and completely miserable.

In her hands, Marinette spotted something promising.

“Is that a USB?”

“Are you okay Rena? That sucks for you Rena, but don’t worry too much about it,” Rena muttered, peeved.

Marinette scratched the back of her head and let out an awkward laugh. “Sorry. You alright, Rena?”

“I’m drenched in milk, LB. But I found a USB and I managed to keep it dry.”

Marinette cheered under her breath, getting closer to inspect the gadget. It was a simple single-toned grey stick, made by LexCorp. “Only four gigabytes?” She mused aloud, expecting something more monumental.

Rena paid her no mind, wringing her hair over the sink, and yelping when the water that poured out of it was brown in colour. “Ugh, I should have just let Chat take this mission,” Rena grumbled. “Might have even enjoyed the milk.”

Marinette shrugged, a lazy smile painting her face. “I don’t think anyone’d enjoy an unexpected milk-bath, Rena, even silly kitty’s like him.”

Rena shook her leg clean, watching with wry eyes as droplets splashed onto the floor. “You always call him Kitty or Chaton,” Rena commented. “It’s kind of cute.”

If it was Carapace saying it, Marinette wouldn’t have batted an eye, but Rena was sort of pushy, and undeniably not-so-secretly interested in Ladybug’s (love) life. Marinate could see the teasing glint in Rena’s eyes and hear the mischief in her voice, enough to get what she was suggesting.

“Yes I do,” Marinette agreed. “Because we’re partners.”

“You don’t have nicknames for me!”

Marinette raised a brow. “You’re not my partner,” she sung.

Rena pouted, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically enough that for a second, Marinette saw her mask disappear and make way for her best friend who she knew was behind it. She’d never say it aloud, lest it encourage her friend’s more dangerous habits (running headfirst into attacks without a mask or protection) but Alya’s determination and vivacity had always been qualities that Marinette admired. That, and how lush her thick locks always seemed to be.

“What about your new partner then? Lark?”

Marinette snorted. Guess Alya held some second-hand anger on her boyfriend’s behalf after all. “You mean Robin?”

Rena rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah sure, Robin.”

“What about him?”

“Well if not Chat, then?” Rena trailed off, but Marinette was sharp enough to know what she’d been suggesting.

Involuntarily, her cheeks burst bright red. Memories of last night that she’d tried so hard to forget — moonlight, a surprising confession, and lips —nope! She shook the thoughts out of her head, bringing her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to cool them down.

“Oh my god! Girl!”

“N-no!” Marinette stuttered out, adamant to explain things before Rena got the complete wrong idea. “It’s not like that! I don’t like Robin! Not even in a friend way!”

“Clearly not in the friend way! Girl, does he know?”

Stupid Robin. Stupid dumb Robin and his stupid dumb lips and their stupid dumb conversation and the terrible, awful, cringe-inducing, stupid-dumb ending to last night! “No! Alya!”

“What happened to no secret identities on the field? I don’t even know yours so you’ve got an advantage there.”

“I don’t think that’s the point, Rena.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “The point is are you gonna tell him?”

“No, there’s nothing romantic happening at all!”

Knowing better than to push when Marinette was sure she looked ready to explode, Rena simply wiggled her brows cheekily and returned to searching for hints. “Okay LB,” she said as she passed, patting Marinette on the shoulders almost patronisingly.

Marinette had to bite her lip to prevent a scream.

Perusing the little unit was much less eventful than either of the two girls expected, and in the end, they found nothing of use apart from the single USB stick that Rena had risked milk-dousing for.

“Literally the worst hour of my life,” Rena commented, inhaling deeply when they finally locked the rotting door behind them. “Never again.”

“You okay to get the USB to Master Fu by yourself?”

“Sure thing Ladybug. You go ahead and get your Z’s, you’ve got patrol tomorrow night as well.”

Marinette moaned at the reminder. Damn, and she was getting excited to make a new dress-shirt too.

—————————————

School the next day was interesting, to say the least. The class was abuzz, all gravitating around Chloe’s desk where she was sat bragging (no surprise there) about some celebrities her dad’s hotel was hosting.

“The Waynes are ridiculously famous and important,” the blonde said, leaning back against her chair as if she didn’t care at all. (She cared very much, and wasn’t as good an actress as she thought she was, Marinette noted.) “Bruce Wayne is like, the most eligible bachelor, and he brought three of his sons with him!”

“Three?” Marinette mumbled under her breath, taking her seat beside Alya. “Why does she say it like he has more?”

“He has five,” Alya supplied helpfully, flashing her a smile in greeting.

Soon enough Alya’s head was down, and her chemistry notes were out, but it was obvious that she was paying more attention to what Chloe was saying than what was on her page, but a tad too prideful to admit to herself that Chloe had anything of particular worth to say.

Chloe’s voice was loud enough that Marinette could join her friend in pretending to overhear, rather than listen to the blonde. “They’re going to be staying at my daddy’s hotel for two weeks,” she boasted.

“Wow Chloe, that’s so cool!” Rose awed. Even from the other side of the room, Marinette could stars forming in her eyes. It was like Prince Ali all over again. “I’d love to meet them! I heard the Wayne foundation helps hundreds of people every year, and that Dick Grayson is nice to everyone!”

She nudged Alya lightly with her elbow. “Dick Grayson?”

“Eldest son, I think.” Was Alya’s simple reply.

Chloe sneered, “someone like him would want nothing to do with you.”

“Well, I’m going to say hi anyway!” Rose replied hotly, learning from last time. Her chest puffed out in pride, leaving her to look like a bright pink penguin, but Marinette was happy for her. It looked like she wasn’t going to let Chloe talk her down anymore.

Chloe opened her mouth, probably to dish out an insult, but straightened as if remembering something important. “Fine,” she said instead. “Do what you want.”

Alya raised a brow and made a face that looked to a cross between impressed and disbelieving.

In a weird way, Marinette felt almost proud. Sure, each awful word out of Chloe’s mouth gave her some sort of vindication (who doesn’t love being right?) that always lead to her feeling guilty, but every time Chloe acted politely, against Marinette’s expectations, she was being influenced by Ladybug. There was something humbling about seeing her impact on the small scale, however minute it was.

“Will you all come with me?” Rose asked, wide eyes directed at the girls of the class.

Don’t look, Marinette urged herself. The moment she looked into Rose’s big Bambi eyes she’d be gone, and however much she loved Rose she needed to go to bed before patrol that night.

“Please?”

“Sure thing, Rose!” Alya agreed. “Marinette and I’d be happy to come.”

Raising her head to refute Alya, Marinette found herself staring right into Rose’s baby blues. Crap. “Yeah Rose, I’d love to come!”

Marinette’s mouth moved faster than her mind, and by the time she’d realised what she had done it was far too late. Rose had already turned to ask Alix.

God, if only Rose was a tablespoon less cute.

(“You’re going to see Dick Grayson? Can I come? I love Dick Grayson!

“Sure, Kim!”)

—————————————

Dick Grayson really was nice to everyone he met, and it didn’t take long for Marinette to understand why all of Paris seemed to swoon over him.

He was charming, had eyes bluer than blue, and a smile that looked so familiar, Marinette could have sworn she’d seen it directed at her before. Really truly, he was great. But all she could focus on was the screaming that was happening somewhere further down the hotel that nobody else seemed to care about.

Marinette inched backwards until she was out of sight, bolting down the nearest corridor, following the sound the best she could.

Tikki peeked out from inside her bag, gazing at her with questioning eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to transform, Marinette? It doesn’t sound very good.”

“I just wanna check first, Tikki. It might not be an attack.”

It wasn’t one. What she’d mistaken for innocent lives threatened by some Akumatised being was, in fact, two boys screaming at each other in the hotel hallway. Or rather, one boy screaming as the other responded, just as heated, but not as loud.

“You will regret this, Drake!” The shorter boy seethed at the other, who stood across from him, clearly unimpressed, back slouched and left hand in his corduroy pants.

The taller one, Drake, raised his hands in apparent frustration. “It’s a room. You’ll just have to settle with sharing with Jason.”

“I had the room with Grayson first. Return it immediately!”

“You sound like a brat.”

The shorter boy huffed, launching a well-aimed kick at the taller boy’s head, which he somehow managed to block, hand still in his pocket. “Your attack will be returned tenfold,” the shorter one announced, leaving ‘Drake’ alone at last. Marinette squeaked as he walked in her direction, slipping around the corner as his eyes narrowed.

He didn’t seem to care though, walking out of the hotel without another look back.

Concerned about a potential Akuma victim, she trailed after him.

She felt childish to have been lulled in such an obviously false sense of comfort, but she was genuinely surprised when he disappeared from her sight after exiting the hotel, only to reappear behind her. He had one hand around both her wrists, keeping her from fighting back with her arms.

“What business do you have following me?”

Marinette spluttered, struggling not to let her eyes dart to her bag in concern as she felt Tikki’s concerned shudder. “I was just making sure you were okay!” Marinette insisted. “I just didn’t want you to get akumatised!”

He let go of her wrists, but his eyes were still in slits, and his knees were bent as if ready to bolt at any given chance. “Explain yourself,” he demanded.

He was pretty snooty if Marinette was being honest, but she supposed she’d be paranoid too if someone was following her. “If you get too upset, Hawkmoth will be able to use you to destroy the city,” Marinette explained, omitting some important parts about certain Miraculous’. It was weird he didn’t know any of this yet. “Are you new here or something?”

The boy sniffed in disdain. “My family landed here this morning.”

This morning…

Marinette gave his outfit a quick once-over.

Black skinny jeans; Givenchy, black shoes; Armani, Burberry jacket, and Wayne-Tech watch. Wayne tech phone peeking out from his pocket too… Rose was going to be so jealous.

(His target-brand Nightwing t-shirt confused her, though.)

“You must be a Wayne!” Marinate exclaimed, extending her hand to greet him. “I’m Marinette.”

He looked at her hand with a raised brow.

He didn’t move until her face shifted into a glare. “Damian.”

He was a little rough around the edges, but he was also mad, and she wouldn’t be Ladybug if she left some innocent person alone to be akumatised. “Nice to meet you, Damian. Do you like ice-cream?”

“I’m not fond of sweets.”

“I’ll find something for you.”

She grabbed his wrist, ready to tug him along, when he snatched his hand right out of her grip. “Unhand me!” He bellowed, looking angry again. Marinate wanted to slap a hand on her forehead, feeling idiotic for upsetting him even further.

“I’m not going to do anything weird, I promise. I just want to take you to my family’s bakery, get you some tea or something to calm you down.”

He looked on the verge of protest, but she must have said something right because he deflated soon after. “Some tea would be acceptable.”

They sat across from each other on the table nearest to the front window, seats comfortably cushioned with little round pillows that were decorated with flowers; one of Marinette’s own creations.

The bakery was one of her favourite places in the world. Little personal splashes made the place warm, from the cushions she’d made, the three small tables on the right side of the bakery for inside dining that she’d suggested herself, and the small red stain on the underside of the front counter that she’d created by spilling dye while making red-velvet cupcakes. She and her mom had spent almost an hour trying to remove any traces of it, but that little mark, shaped like a coma, was far more stubborn than either of them.  

He liked rice tea, she learned. Rice tea and plum dacqouise.

Well, he never said he liked plum dacquoise, but he clearly didn't dislike plum dacquoise. Her dad had asked if he’d like anything else with his tea, and when he looked to her for suggestions, there was one thing she couldn’t not recommend.

“I’d like the Marinette,” he’d said, voice frank. Her heart had pounded at how the sentence sounded, but she didn’t correct him or mention it in case it’d embarrass him. He wasn’t a native speaker after all, so it was impressive enough he could maintain a conversation and order all on his own.

“It’s my favourite cake,” she informed him after his first bite. He replied with a ‘hn.’

Easy silence befell them as Damian sipped his tea, looking out the window with slight interest. She was eating his cake, well her cake that he bought, content to sit in silence, appreciating how he simply nodded her way when he caught her, not too miffed at her eating his food. “Did you come here for a holiday?” She asked, striking up a conversation.

He tilted his head to the side, thinking. The bright lights seemed to highlight his jawline perfectly, because Marinette couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing downward. “For business mostly, but I suppose Gra— my brother might consider this a holiday.”

“Must be nice to have so many siblings.”

Damian huffed, folding his arms the way Alya’s younger sisters did when they heard something they didn’t like. “They’re not my siblings.”

“You just said you had a brother though?”

Damian spluttered, mouth moving as he protested mutely, unable to come up with a convincing response. “It’s not fun,” he said instead, replying to her initial comment.

Marinette smiled behind her hands at his petulant behaviour, not yet brave enough, or close enough to him to laugh at him to his face. “I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m an only child.”

“I was too, once.” Damian’s eyes had a misty quality to them that Marinette wasn’t sure she wanted to touch on. Instead, she latched on to what felt like the only tangible part of what he said.

“Are you adopted?”

Damian all but hissed, leaning over the table to exclaim his response. “I’m the blood heir! The rest of them were adopted!”

She leaned back into her seat, surprised by his outburst.

Prepared to spend the rest of the hour suffering in heavy silence, Marinette was almost grateful to see a large, thorn breaking through the bakery window, engraving itself deep into the floor.

It shook the building down to its foundations, leaving the counter and the cakes it displayed utterly obliterated. Marinette coughed, inhaling a lungful of dust and debris caused by the projectile, wheezing out a breath. Her heart thrummed as she readied herself for a battle.

“I have to go!” She and Damian said in sync. She let him leave, expecting his worry for his family, and preoccupied with planning how to get to the Akuma.

Marinette let out a quiet “sorry,” as she trapped her parents in the back room, locking the door on them so they would be safe without noticing her absence.

“Tikki, spots on!”

End Notes: hhhhhhhhh so this is actually only half of my original plan for chapter 4 so I guess you can expect chapter five soon. I was so excited for the fight but chapter 4 got so long and I felt that the fight deserved it’s own chapter and I didn’t want too many events in one chapter because it’d feel too cluttered oh man.

But also! Daminette!!!!! 

Classic Bruce gets there secret identities to arrive later than their hero ones to avoid suspicion. We got our first peek at Tim, and a mention of Jason. If anyone’s wondering why Chloe only mentioned three sons,,, Jason’s legally dead so ye theres that. 

Daminette!!! They met!!!!!!!!! For those curious, his acceptance of tea was thanks to his appreciation of Alfred. Daminette!!! 

Things to look forward to next chapter: Akuma fight!!! Addressing the ‘Queen Bee’ situation completely, kind of addressing what happened the night damian stormed of jealous and MORE maridami goodness. (Is it obvious how much I love chapter 5 and how much I wanna get it DONE?

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