#it burns doesn’t it

[justoneday-namjoonii]

It burns, doesn’t it? [Pt. 21]

genre/au: mafia!au, mature, fluff, angst, love triangle

warnings: contains graphic imagery, panic attacks, mental health issues, mature subject matter, manipulation, toxic/inappropriate friendships and relationships, mentions of death, mentions of drugs, brief smoking, lots of language and some suggestive language, mentioned crude/unnerving behavior, intensity, very slight hoe phase if you squint, character death. If you’re easily triggered, please proceed with caution or do not proceed♥️

pairing: jungkook x reader ; yoongi x reader

authors note: happy belated b-day to Jungkook~ sorry his life sucks in this story🫶. please see m.list for previous parts. thank you all who have followed this story and all who plan to! comments, likes and relogs are appreciated! you have my sincerest gratitude angels💗👼 Sit back, relax, and enjoy^^ it’s a looong but juicy read

word count: 60k+

summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have taken you out a long time ago. After everything, the heartbreak, betrayal and lies, you’ve emerged with a purpose—you’re apart of a family now. They won’t let you lay down and die—no matter how much you want to.

“Call- what was her name, Miranda?” Verona furrows her brows, not bothering to jog her memory for the correct name.

“Melinda, her name is Melinda.” She’s corrected by her brother.

“Someone should call her,”

“Why can’t it be you?”

“She cursed me out last time we talked,” She holds her toddler, trying to give him the cereal snack.

“That was almost 20 years ago, if we can’t reach her brother anymore than we should try to reach her,”

“We should forget it,” She mumbles, “we haven’t contacted them all this time, why do we have to now?”

“Legally, we have to try,”

“Grandmother always liked to make things overly complicated just to fit that illegitimate child into this family.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Agent Ban spent the morning trying to put a face and name to the missing female. How is it possible for a single person so disappear and not even the FBI has investigated her whereabouts? It’s all so strange and confusing. What makes it even more interesting is that for some reason, she seems to be loosely connected to the single largest case in the city.

“Lisa, there’s a missed call for you,” One of the administrative staffs, “came in this morning.”

“Thanks,” She takes the phone and dials the number.

“This is agent Lisa Ban, I’m returning your call,”

“This is officer Go from the police department 9. I know you’re pursuing a missing persons case, I have one that might interest you.”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s fairly old and it was made anonymously almost a year ago, but the woman’s name is Kim Y/n. For some reason her case was snuffed. She went missing one night after work, the person who reported this suspects that she was kidnapped. I have pictures and other information on her that I will send your way.”

“Thank you so much, this might be just what I needed to close this case.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Jungkook must be dead or dying. Namjoon could be too, you accepted that possibility. After the shock began leave your body, your tears cleared and you stared off into nowhere. Hours must have gone by because the sun isn’t shining anymore.

You were numb, you couldn’t feel the heat surrounding your body. You were so numb that you could not hear Yoongi screaming at you to get out of the car, the burning car. When the smokey glaze leaves your vision, you see the hood of the car is up in flames and the driver is deeply impaled by a pole through the windshield.

“The bastard tried to kill us, and himself,” Blood drips from his black hair and down his forehead and you finally gather what’s happened. You look around, tall trees surround you and you’re being led to run away from the dirt road.

“I’m scared,” You whisper, knowing he can’t hear you and even if he can, he doesn’t have to time have that type of conversation. He is too worried about getting away from the car that just exploded, putting your thoughts to an abrupt stop.

You cry out, falling to your knees, hands pressing to your ears as you tremble on the forest floor. You can’t feel your legs, your heart is drumming, your body says to give up. Yoongi grabs your trembling body and lifts you to stand back up, chilling you to your core. “I- I’m scared, Yoongi, just leave me here!-” You mutter with quivering lips, you know you look pathetic.

“You’re alive,” Yoongi firmly takes your hand and presses it to your chest, making you feel your own pounding heart, “if you feel that, you have to keep going,” despite your shaken up state, you’re following beside him.

The smell of gasoline and burning chemicals makes you sick. Things are going so fast, Yoongi moves so fast. How can he keep going? He doesn’t know if Namjoon made it, it looked like Jungkook didn’t make it—he’s not even attempting to ponder those thoughts. Somehow, he stumbles upon an abandoned shipping container. Cautiously, he steps inside the metal shelter and beckons you to follow. The spider webs and the debris from trees has made its way inside and you stay where you are.

“Come on, we’ll wait in here,”

You step inside with heaving breath, face a bit sweaty and head swimming.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” He looks you over, “we may have to stay put for a few hours.”

You look around you, unable to say anything, even if you wanted to speak you wouldn’t know what to say.

“Jimin is supposed to be with us,” He sighs, leaning against the wall of the metal container, “I’ll tell him to come to us,”

“We have to sleep here?…” You look at what you think is an old birds nest, the ground is hard and dirty with mud—not to mention it’s dark.

“Yeah, doesn’t make sense to look for a hotel, we can’t risk leaving a trail in another town,” He does something on his phone and you brush some leaves aside to have a seat.

Jimin was off with another group but abandoned them immediately to look for Yoongi. He brought the list of items Yoongi requested and l found you two within a few hours.

“Here, sorry it took a while,” He hands Yoongi the bag and his eyes land on you sitting idly in the corner, “I didn’t know she was with you.” He mutters, disappointed.

“Use this to clean up,” Yoongi hands you a pack of wipes and a bottle of antibacterial, “I’ll be back,”

You want to ask where he’s going and why he’s not bothering to clean the blood from his own face. He is more at risk than you are, he already has a serious wound, you only have a few scratches.

Jimin won’t look at you and you can think of a few reasons why. You could care less, you just want to smell a little better than the damp woods and a burning car. With shaky hands, you open up the wipes and begin to clean your face. You take your sweater off and diligently wipe the rest of your body. Jimin sits on the edge of the entrance, not even tempted to look back.

“Where’d you go?” Jimin looks up, inspecting the bottle in Yoongi’s hand and now clean face.

“Water,” He hands Jimin a bottle and holds the other two. Red-faced, you hastily slip your sweater back on right before he can lay his eyes on you. Or maybe he looked away purposefully and only looked when he saw you were dressed.

“Thank you,” You take the bottle and try not to chug it.

“Try to get some sleep,” Yoongi looks at you and Jimin, “Jimin, we’ll take turns watching guard, I’ll take the first leg,”

“You’re sure?” Jimin furrows his brows, “I can take the first few hours,”

You stand up, brushing the leaves off your butt, wanting to offer some assistance. “I can too…”

“No, get some rest,” Yoongi stands near the edge of the entrance with his hands firmly in his pocket, “that’s an order.”

Jimin nods, taking the blanket and laying it out on the floor meticulously. It’s a small blanket and he only brought one, and it’s very drafty. Certainly the three of you weren’t supposed to share it, you thought. You get on the blanket and sit with your knees to your chest.

“You should lay down,” Jimin lays on his back beside you, you won’t look at him, “what? You don’t want to share it?”

You slowly ease down and lay on your side, facing away from him. He’s not used to the silent treatment, yet, he feels he deserves it.

At least 20 minutes went by and neither of you had gone to sleep, to your dismay.

“You didn’t wanna go with Jungkook? Why’re you with Yoongi,” He whispers, curious onto how you ended up with the cold mafia lord and not your obsessed lover, or whatever it was. “I know you’re awake…”

“We’re not together anymore,” You swallow, “that’s why I didn’t want to go with him…”

He lets out a small gasp and you turn to look at him—Why must he looked so relieved? Deliighted even. “You’re free then…”

“If that’s what you want to call it, yeah…” You turn back around, curling into the fetal position to warm yourself.

“It’s cold,” He states the obvious, “you’re shaking, do you want me to—?”

“No,” You insist, “I’m fine, goodnight…”

He doesn’t press any further. Keeping a safe distance, he settles for discarding his jacket and placing it over you.

That night, it poured.

It rained so loudly, it sounded like rocks were being thrown from every direction. By that time, you and Jimin had fallen asleep so Yoongi joined you all on the blanket. He’s not the close proximity type but he also doesn’t care for sleeping on dirt and leaves. He let out a heavy sigh, back against the hard metal behind him.

It seems that every brick lifted to rebuild what they once had crumbled in his hands. They are all together but the unity has only made prominent the differences they have. Namjoon and Yoongi are a different story—they’re a pair. If it were just them, things would run smoothly. Hell, if it were just them and Hoseok, the three of them wouldn’t have any issues. Hoseok was their rock, between Yoongi and Namjoon, they could always depend on him, more than anyone else. The three of them even discussed running off and starting their own thing when they were young, they were so close. Closer than just brothers, they made each other feel safe, secure.

They happen to have soulmates with a lot of baggage. Jin came with the curses passed down from his father. He’s deceitful, selfish, only in it for himself—on the outside. Inside, he’s insecure that one day, the day he decides to depend on anyone but himself, he’ll be let down, forgotten and abandoned.

Yoongi glances over at Jimin’s peaceful expression as he sleeps—he still looks like that same teenage boy. His face is just barely pressed up against the back of your neck in an attempt to gain your warmth. The same boy who let anyone who said they cared about him use him and who used people to fill his many voids. His traumas are unspoken but so very evident even in the way he lives. They’ve always pitied him, it’s something they don’t admit.

And Taehyung, he’s bonded to everyone. Rose was the reason for that, everyone loved her so naturally they loved her little brother. Namjoon loved her as a woman, he loved Taehyung like a little brother. He promised her he’d take care of him before she died, it was a promise he made to himself. Taehyung had terrible parents, a crappy childhood, but a Godsend of a sister. If it weren’t for her pure soul and kind words, he wouldn’t know when to stop, he’d ravage anyone in sight—including himself. One can’t mention Rose without Geongmin, the two were inseparable, they might as well have been sisters.

And then there’s Jungkook. That night, it seemed like the whole world stopped when Namjoon met him. He was smart, strong, exceptional at almost everything he did, he seemed unreal. He made Namjoon proud. You’d think the boy was conceived by Namjoon’s efforts alone. Something about abandoned kids does something for him, he wants to take them in and change their lives—like a savior.

Now there’s you.

A bolt of lightning strikes, causing a loud crack of thunder to jolt you out of your sleep. You let out a startled squeal and you hold on to who’s beside you instinctively. Usually, that someone is Jungkook but even in your exhaustion, you know this is not him. You blink, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness and to the person under our palm.

“I’m s- sorry,” You remove your hands from his side and scoot further from Jimin who you pushed up against you in his sleep.

“There’s a storm passing by,” He looks over at you, “we’re safe in here,”

“About earlier,” You push your hair out of your face and lay flat on your back, “I don’t really remember what happened,”

“We crashed, the driver did it on purpose I think ,” Stress is light in his tone, “I don’t know much more than that.”

“Are you okay?…” You ask so softly.

“Yeah,” He answers quickly, too quickly for it to be true.

You accept his answer, despite knowing the truth. it doesn’t take long for you to drift back to sleep.

Just as soon as you are overtaken by your sleepiness, Jimin wakes up to the pounding rain. “Ready to switch?”

“No need, no one’s coming out here in this storm, go back to sleep,” Yoongi answers, eyes shutting again.

“She’s cold,” Jimin states suddenly, you’re curled up with his jacket almost covering your face, “shit, I’m cold…”

“You’ve toughed through worse than this,” Yoongi’s eyes slip open, half-lidded but more than curious to see what Jimin is trying to get at.

“Did you know that they broke up?” Jimin sits up, voice low and mindful not to wake you.

“Hm,” Yoongi gives up on trying to get some shuteye, “I really don’t care…”

“That’s something I’ll have to get used to, not sneaking around to avoid getting my ass handed to me,” Jimin giggles, “a part of me will miss it though.”

“Getting your ass handed to you?”

“No, sneaking around just to spend a few minutes with her,” Jimin confesses with a giggle, “I guess I liked the chase…”

“That’s pretty sick,”

“Is it?” Jimin’s brows furrow and his puffy lips downturn a bit. His boss doesn’t need to tell him that, he knows he’s got a bad habit. Yoongi’s eyes shut, leaving Jimin to ponder over what he just confessed.

The night went by in the blink of an eye.

Jimin woke you up and Yoongi was already ready to leave when your eyes opened to the beaming sunrise.

“Where’s the car?” Yoongi stretches his arms and lets it a deep exhale.

“A theater parking lot, it’s about a mile from here,” Jimin watches as you reject his offer to help you off the floor, “shouldn’t take us long to get there—I meant to ask, where are we going? I was going with a team to a common area before meeting up with you,”

“My family’s old estate,” He pauses to restate that, “well, it’s mine now,”

“You actually kept that place? We all thought you sold it,” Jimin can recall the very few visits he made to that place. It was huge and extravagant, a bodacious display of wealth, far from Yoongi’s personal taste.

He lived at the estate on and off during his youth. After he turned 10, his father took him and his mother into hiding in a shabby old house.

“I figured I’d need a handful of undisclosed locations to go to one day,” He scoffs, “I was right.”

That morning, after 8 dditional hours of driving, you began to approach a thick patch of the forest. A 10-foot Roth iron gate blocked a white cobblestone entrance. Large hedges seemed to block any view other than the building that appeared to be his home. Yoongi gets out of the car and walks over to a little padlock hidden within a brick—this is the most mafia-style place you’ve ever seen.

That day you learned a lot about Yoongi.

Just from observing the lavish home, the mile long pool in the backyard, the well groomed landscaping—this is the life his father lived and it paid. Dodging bullets, manufacturing and selling drugs to anyone willing to buy. You’re positive he has loads of real estate elsewhere. The home was equipped with a full staff, men and women who were much older than the three of you. The ceilings seem to reach the sky, the floors and stairs are marble, the bright chandeliers made you dizzy.

An older woman greets you all in the foyer, she touches Yoongi’s face affectionately, as if she was reassuring that he was in the flesh.

“Yoongi,” She smiles and pulls him into a warm embrace, “I can’t believe it’s you,” She looks nothing like him but she holds him like he’s her child

“I know,” His eyes slip shut in her gentle touch and you can’t help but stare in awe as he melts a bit, “you remember Jimin,”

“Yes, of course,” Her eyes pass from him over to you.

“This is Y/n, she’s,” He pauses to look back at you, “with us,”

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Ayeong,” Her smile grows brighter, “you all must be exhausted, I’ll take you to the guest room and have supper ready within the hour,”

Yoongi disappears and the kind woman leads you to the bedrooms.

“Here you are,” She points to a lovely room, one lovely room. “I’m sorry, I should have asked, did you want to share a room?”

“No ma’am,” you speak for the first time, “separate rooms, please,”

“Yeah,” Jimin clears his throat, “she can have this one.”

“Alright, there are a change of clothes for you there, I’ll be back when dinner is ready,”

“Thank you,” You give her a small bow and you enter the suite right after, “huh…”

You fall right onto the bed and the fresh smell of linen engulfs your nose, it’s so nostalgic. Aunt Melinda used to have your sheets washed and your bed remade almost every weekend, it was one indulgence you missed dearly.

Your shower is long and drawn out, way longer than it should have been. Supper is served at a grand dining room table, Yoongi declines to join.

“The food is amazing, you’re a wonderful cook,” You offer her a genuine smile, “it reminds me of home.”

“Thank you, I don’t get to do this very often, we haven’t had guests in quite a while,” She refills your glass of water and Jimin’s as well, “and Yoongi’s lifestyle doesn’t allow for a lot of home-cooked meals.”

“Yeah,” Jimin nods, glancing up at you, “you cook right? You told me once,”

“Yeah,” You look at your plate and then smile at Ayeong, “I’m not this good though,”

“Thank you sweetheart,” Ayeong adds an additional spoonful of rice to each of your plates, “if you ever want to cook something, let me know and I’ll get the ingredients ordered.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,”

You felt a genuine smile creep up, you haven’t felt that in awhile.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

2 years ago

“Y/n, your acceptance letter!”

You raced from your bedroom, throwing your headphones off.

“Let me see,” You ran to get the envelope, “wait, no! I don’t want to…”

“You have to open it eventually, come on,” Your aunt teases, “just take a deep breath.”

You’re a bit jittery, butterflies swarming in your stomach. So much as gone into this, hours of late night studying, honors classes—it’s all come down to this.

“I…I got in,” For some reason, fireworks don’t go off, “I was accepted.”

“Why aren’t you happy? You’ve been waiting for this,”

“We can’t afford this, even with my scholarship it’s not enough to cover room and board-“

“Your grandmother wants to pay for your living expenses and any tuition that’s not covered by your scholarships,”

“What? Nana doesn’t have that type of money,”

“Not Nana, your grandmother on your mothers side, you know she’s pretty wealthy. She called me a few years ago and told me to tell her when you started college, she wants to pay for it.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? It’s a good thing-“

“The last time I talked to them, they acted like I was a nobody, like I should have never existed, they’re my estranged family for a reason.”

“Y/n, you know your grandmother has always cared about you, she’s the only one who ever bothered to reach out to you,”

“Yeah, but I don’t need anything from them, they abandoned me.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

3 Months Later

“We’ll have a shipment coming soon, one of the capos need to accept it,” Yoongi paces from one side of the desk to the other, “just let Hoseok know who- He’s not taking direct shipments right now, just have it done, do you not know how to follow simple directions? Okay, then do it,” Yoongi hangs up the phone, “fucking idiots.”

Ayeong peaks into the room, she sees the exhaustion in his eyes, the last Min to occupy this office had those same eyes. “Here you are,”

“Thank you,” He takes the cup and has a seat on the desk.

“Y/n is sweet, she reminds me of your mother when she was young, how did she get into this?”

“Her brother,” Yoongi replies bluntly, “her brother is Kim Seokjin.”

“Oh,” She can’t help but inquire further, “why is she with you and not with him?”

“I made a mistake,” The kind that ruins someone’s life.

“I think I’ve ruined dozens of lives, I know I have, but its never bothered me before, I thought I was used to it,” He confesses, “I used her to save her brother- I thought it would save him.”

She recoils a bit, surprised to hear Yoongi be that honest. “It didn’t?”

“I don’t know,” He recalls a tone similar to his if not harsher resonate in this room years ago, “here’s the messed up part, I don’t even know if I would have done things differently,”

“I know there’s a lot you have to carry, your father was the same way,” She sighs, “your mother was the only one who knew what he went through.”

“Huh,” He sighs, “you say that like he confided in her.”

“He did. I know what you saw from them was bad, but before you were born, your mother was actually happy to be with him,”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“It’s true. Did she never tell you how they grew apart?…” Yoongi’s furrowed brows indicates that he doesn’t know the whole story.

“She couldn’t have children for almost 3 years before she had you, that started to strain on their marriage. When she did get pregnant, they were so happy. But not long after you were born, he became obsessed with grooming you into his successor…your mother was against it.”

He knows this, how could he forget? His mother wanted one thing and his father wanted another. This life tends to blur things, push things aside and make you run, it’s painful to slow down and think.

“He got his wish.”

“When he took you and your mother away, we all feared for your life…I’m just glad your back home,” She smiles, brushing Yoongi’s hair out of his face, “and you brought a girl.”

“She’s not safe with anyone else,” He moves away from Ayeong’s hand, already picking up what she thought she subtly put down, “that’s the only reason she’s here.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t, I’m just glad to see you showing a little compassion, that’s all,” She says, as she makes her way out, “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

*

Staying at the estate has been plush and comfortable, you got used to it rather quickly. Hoseok came accompanied by their newest business partner, Akane. She only stayed for about a day, Hoseok stayed and then Yoongi left.

When Yoongi was at the estate, he spent his days neck deep in calls and meetings in his office, or gone for days on end. You haven’t had the chance to shadow him nearly as much, you’ve had no choice but to spend your days trying to be a normal person again.

Today is different, Jimin was teaching you how to fight someone with a knife. You were struggling to keep up, he was going really fast for some reason and before you could ask him to slow down, you were panting to catch your breath. Knife under your neck, flat on your stomach with an arm unnaturally twisted behind your back.

“Br- Break!” You utter out.

Jimin pulls away with a grunt.

“What would you have done had I actually been trying to kill you?” He tosses the pocket knife aside, “You’re promising in the initial attack but you lack tact when you get tired, your endurance is shit,”

You sit on your knees, glaring up at him.

“Stand up,” He gets in position, “we’ll build your endurance, fight like hell, don’t worry about hurting me, you won’t.”

You hit the floor after he sweeps your leg, he uses his legs a lot when he fights. But this time you get up in time to strike his face so hard that he instinctively grants you a powerful blow to your side.

“Ow!” You hold your side and keel over. But he doesn’t stop there, you haven’t said break yet. You grow more and more frustrated the more hits he lands on you. You don’t know if this is building your endurance more than it is him just letting you have it.

“Jimin, wait!” You take another hit and this time land flat on your face. “Ouch,” You feel liquid trickle from your mouth, “you busted my lip,”

“You didn’t say break,” He takes a moment to push back the stray hairs from his little ponytail and catch his breath, “your attacker won’t stop because you ask them to, they don’t care about messing up your pretty face, most of them don’t at least.”

“Yeah, neither do you,” You hold your mouth, “I want to stop for today.”

“You’re gonna quit because of a little blood? You slapped the shit out of me, you don’t see me complaining,”

“You said I couldn’t hurt you,” You shoot back.

“Of course I said that, it was to get under your skin,”

“It hurts,” You kneel down, holding your hands to your mouth, plucking his heart strings, “I might need stitches,”

“Is it really that bad?” You sense him walk up behind you. “Let me see-“

Here’s your chance.

You charge toward him with all of your strength and his back hits the ground, eliciting a wince of pain from his lips. You have him pinned under you, somehow. You have the knife he had thrown aside moments ago and now you’re holding it to his neck.

“What do I do when I get someone like this? Do I actually do it?” You stare down at him, eyes shaking. “Kill them?”

He swallows, eyes trained on your intense expression and rapid breathing. Proud would be an understatement for how he feels right now, turns out you’re actually learning something.

“I’m impressed, you finally got me.” He gives you props for this little stunt.

“Thanks,” you smile, more out of relief that your plan worked than from the compliment. You squeal when the position is reversed and you’re now flat on your back, it was a short lived victory.

“Kill them before they kill you,” He squeezes your wrist hard enough to make you drop the knife, “don’t give them an opportunity to turn the tables like this, your struggle will be in vain if you get yourself killed,” He takes your wrists and stretches them above your head and fear washes over your face, “you left yourself wide open, you had a knife to my neck, yeah, but my hands were free, my legs too if you count how easy it is to push you off,” He chuckles at the frustrated look on your face.

“You did good but you have to disarm the arms and the legs, then you have the upper-hand, you give them a reason not to move while giving yourself as much mobility as possible.”

“I get it,” You knit your brows, struggling to break free as he tightens his grip, “I get it, now get off!”

“I don’t think so,” He lets out a sinister laugh, “free yourself or say the word,”

“No,” You grit your teeth, “just kill me.”

He scoffs, letting you go out of sheer amusement.

“Just kill me? Wow,” He takes the wraps from his knuckles, “that’s what you would say to someone clearly trying to kill you?”

“You let go didn’t you? It was worth a shot,” You mumble, taking yours off as well.

Most of your days went by like this, some days you’d sneak off with Ayeong to talk, some nights you envy Jimin’s ability to leave the house as he pleased.

That night, Hoseok said they had to meet Yoongi at an auction. Something about the industry needing to see that they still had a presence. You asked if you could join them, it was unlike anything you’d ever prepared yourself for. Though, it reminded you of trip you took with Jungkook and Namjoon. But this time, you’re less scared to death.

“Can I ask you a question?” He shifts gears in the car, the acceleration making your heart jump a bit. Hoseok was picked up by a car, leaving you and Jimin and to find your own way.

“Did you really want to join the group? I didn’t think you’d want to live the rest of your life like this but when they told me you joined, I was surprised,”

You subconsciously pull down your dress, a little black dress you found in the spare clothes. The dress code was formal, so you did the works with make up all. “Why?”

“Our members are family, you’re like a sister to all of us,” He continues, “we’ll protect you with our lives and we expect you to do the same. It’s not an easy job.”

“I know that,”

“There are rules you have to follow, though, those rules are probably gonna change again soon, no one follows them like they used to,”

“Rules?” You peer at him, genuinely curious.

“Limited family contact, no going back to your old life or disclosing your true profession, no harming the innocent, no taking consuming the product that we sell, those are just a few of the old ones.”

You nod to yourself, already having considered those stipulations.

He never said you where he was going, he just an auction, not much more information than that. It puzzled you why you decided this was a good idea, you knew it wasn’t wise, but you didn’t want to be wise today, you wanted to be free. You wanted to taste freedom, to feel it.

“Jimin, what the hell are you doing here?!”

As soon as you arrived at the building, you knew where you were, a bar. Anxiety began to pool in your stomach, you weren’t used to this scene. Hostess obviously knew Jimin by the way she practically kissed him when he walked in.

“Mira, shh,” He giggles, keeping the woman from fully smothering him, “I’m glad to see you too but we gotta keep a low profile right now, take us to the gold.”

Mira? The woman who first saw you roaming in Namjoon’s base ages ago. She introduced you to Jiyoon, your punishment for being with two feet of Jungkook.

“Oh my gosh, you,” She clasps a hand over her mouth when her eyes land on you, “I thought you were dead.”

“No, I’m still very much alive somehow,” You laugh awkwardly, “why are you all the way out here?”

“Jimin got me this job,” She places a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I got tired of being pimped out, the house some of us girls stayed in was ransacked right after Namjoon left to join Yoongi, it was time for me to get out of that life anyway,” She shrugs, “I take it you’re out too?”

“Yeah,” You nod, moving to stand closer to Jimin.

“Good for us,” She smiles, “right?”

“Yeah, good for us…”

Mira leads you two to the back of the bar and to an elevator you would have never guessed was back there.

“Enjoy! I think they just started the first bid,” She waves goodbye as the elevator shuts.

Jimin stands tall, confident and relaxed, adjusting his collar a bit, “I didn’t know you knew Mira,” Jimin points out lowly.

“I really don’t know her know her,” You reply softly, “I ran into her a few times.”

“Why did you want to come?” He cuts to the chase, no beating around the bush. “I leave almost every night and you’ve never been interested in joining me before.”

The elevator doors open and once you walk down the hall, you see a grand room. It seems mikes long. You’re immediately offered a glass of champagne you feel Jimin’s hand on your lower back, keeping you beside him.

“I wanted to get out like you,” You take a sip, the frothy bubbles lingering on your lip before you lick it away quickly, “y’know, get some fresh air.”

“I’m glad you came, it gets a little lonely coming to these events all alone,” He combs his hair back with precise hand, “so thanks for joining us, Yoongi and the others should be here soon.”

As you two walked about, he explained the reason for coming to these events.

“It’s not only about the art, while it is a good investment, it’s about the buyers and sellers and their businesses. It’s a way to build, grow, and even end relationships.”

“So that’s what we’re here to do?” You conclude.

“Kind of,” He chuckles, “we’re here to let people know we’re still active, that’s about all they told me.”

You two stand at the bar where he orders an old fashioned in place of his champagne. He helps you sit on the stool and people-watch for a few minutes. You hat to admit it, but you marvel at the way Jimin looks so alluring, piquing the interest of everyone passing by. After about 5 minutes he’s on the second glass, he loves his liquor.

“Jimin,” You give him a shy smile, “Did you mean it when you called me self-absorbed?”

“Y/n, I was hurt when I said that,” He sighs, flashing that charming smile,“but yeah, you can be a bit selfish.���

“You scare me,” You glance away from him, “one minute you’re flirting the next you’re acting like you hate me, I don’t know what to believe…”

“You’re not innocent. You used me and I wanted to make sure you knew that, you keep living like things were just happening to you, like you have nothing to do with it. I wanted to prove a point, you’re partly to blame for your issues.” He attempts to justify his behavior but you don’t believe him.

“I did what I had to do to survive, you used me too,” It’s the truth. Your need to survive quickly morphed into an obsession with Jungkook’s protection, then Jimin’s attention. “You’re much worse than me actually...”

“I know, I do what I had to do to survive, always have,” He tongues at his cheek, “you played the damsel in distress role a little too well. I actually thought I started to love you, you led me on big time,”

“It wasn’t love,” You brush him off, “I don’t think anyone really loves me, not anymore...”

“Don’t say that,” He pinches your chin, forcing your eyes to stay trained on his, “I’ve always liked you…that’s why I have such a weak spot for you,”

“You have a weak spot for a lot of people, at least that’s what I’ve heard,”

“Oh yeah? what else have you heard?“ He tries not to sound too eager to know but it’s all over his face, he’s dying to know.

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t believe everything I hear,” you spare him the lengthy tangents Jungkook has gone on before, “you’re not a bad person, more misunderstood.”

“You’ve said that before, I think you might be lying,” He looks a you through half-lidded eyes, “you’re good at that.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You snap, gulping down the last bit of your champagne, to Jimin’s surprise, “if I am a liar, it’s because of you, you all gave me no choice but to defend myself the only way I knew how, that’s not my fault...”

“I’m guessing lies are what lead to Jungkook breaking up with you, I assume that’s who cut things off,” He guesses correctly, “it’s a sore spot, I know, he must have gone too far, he’s always been that way,”

You look up at him, bottom lip tight between your teeth. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes but you try yo push them back. The mere mention of Jungkook is causing your body to respond in grief. You shut him out of your mind completely, just to give yourself time to process.

“Hey, I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about that,” He backs off immediately, wiping under your eye with his thumb, “let’s dance.”

Somehow, that lead to 5 minute dance that turned into a 15 minute dance, as if Jungkook didn’t exist, as if you two were friends simply indulging in a night out. He tugged you closer and you wondered when he had totally lost his good sense, maybe on the second drink? He was talking, a lot. You don’t even know what he was saying, not a word.

“Now that we’re always together, I thought you’d get bored of me,” You whisper, arms wrapped around his neck as his hands hold you at an oddly appropriate distance, you catch him trying to hide his blush.

“Baby,” He mumbles, swaying a bit to bring himself some solace, “I could never get bored of you.”

“What’s up with Yoongi? I’ve been worried,” You ask suddenly, “I keep asking Ayeong when he’s coming back, I haven’t seen him…”

“Why? You have a little crush on him or something?” He giggles. Your expression makes it clear that you don’t find it funny.

“He’s fine…Well, as fine as he could be, I’m not supposed to talk about this with you but,” He swallows, “nevermind,“

“Talk to me about what?,” You hold his face, “what is it?”

“Hey, you two,” Hoseok comes out of nowhere, his flashy suit being as recognizable as ever, “head to booth 7, sit in the back row, Yoongi and I will be in the front with Akane.”

When you get to the booth, just as he instructed you two sit in the back but Jimin leaves you to go speak with someone. When you look beside you , your heart nearly stops. You’re sat next to a familiar face, one way too familiar for your liking.

“You’re a fan of Kimberly Blanc or are you also here for show?”

You know this guy.

“I’m Gwangmin, by the way,” he extends a hand to you, “and you are?”

“Uh, why do you need to know?” You swallow nervously, hoping he doesn’t recognize you.

“You’re undercover then. Do you have an alias? I bet it’s something badass, let me guess,” He smiles, and the man next to him with a practically identical face gives the same smile. Twins?

“They want us to put in a bid at a private booths,” Jimin lifts you to your feet, “excuse us.”

“I think I know that guy,” You look back at the man and his eyes linger on you.

“Yeah, that’s a problem, we want to be seen but not so much by people like him,” He leads you to not just a booth, but an entirely different room with less people but some who are obviously high profile.

That’s when you see Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Akane and their entourage sitting in a private area. Much like the other groups in here, everyone must have their own organizations. Yoongi is sat in the middle of the group with a burning cigarette between his fingers, Jimin goes up to greet him and you stand off to the sidelines. Taehyung is staring you down, but not in a flattering way, he looks too curious.

“Come sit, it’s about to start,” Jimin beckons you to sit beside him and you go over reluctantly.

Yoongi offers you a weak smile and you’re embarrassed to feel a blush coming on. You have to convince yourself that you don’t look out of place. This environment is suffocating and fascinating. Jimin told you that you may see a $20,000 painting being purchased but what’s actually being purchased is cocaine or artillery, you may never know.

“Here’s your number, sir,” A hostess hands Yoongi the number and he instantly hands it to Taehyung.

“You’re doing the bidding, you know this seller better than any of us,” Yoongi puts the cigar out in the ashtray, relieving you of the pungent smell.

“Look who just showed up,” Hoseok takes a long sip of champagne, “probably won’t even put in a bid.”

You look in the direction they’re all glaring in.

Jaebum, the man who kickstarted this all.

Not only him, but the two men who Hoseok and Jimin took you from, you don’t recall their names. And then the one who found you at the hotel in Japan, Jackson. You stomach is doing flips and your heart threatens to leap out of your chest. You feel anxiety, stress, it’s a trauma you’ve yet to face.

Worst part is, they see you.

“Yoongi, it’s good to see you back out after everything that’s happened,” Jaebum looks him over and his eyes just briefly land on yours, “I’m sorry for your loss, all of you.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi nods and you see Taehyung purse his lips, Hoseok and Jimin hang their heads low for a moment, am I missing something?

“Kim Namjoon,” He says his name, “I’ll actually miss the bastard,”

“You’re not the only one,” Yoongi takes a small sip of champagne, “it’s the name of the game, we’re all risking our lives here.”

“And Jeon? Who would have thought he’d land himself in prison, what a shame,” He sighs, “well, I’ll get back to my booth, maybe we can talk soon?”

“Soon,” Yoongi replies calmly.

I’m gonna be sick.

“I need to use the restroom,” You whisper to Jimin. You get out of your chair and scurry out as soon as the bid starts.

Namjoon is gone. Jungkook is in prison, Jaebum is back—this has to be some sick dream. You find the bathroom and throw yourself in an empty stall. So many emotions are coming at you, you feel a panic wash over you. Calm down, calm down—they can’t hurt you. Jungkook isn’t here but the others are, they won’t let it happen again.

“Pull yourself together,” You breathe in, fanning your face to cool down. With all the strength you can muster, you straighten yourself up and walk out of the bathroom. When you make it back to the room, the doors are closed, locked.

“Miss, that’s a private auction,” A hostess comes up to you, “is your party in there?”

“Yes, I just ran to the ladies room, can you open the door for me?“

“I’m sorry, but when these doors are locked, no one is permitted back in until the bid is over, you’re welcome to join other booths,” She smiles, pointing you in the direction of the public bids. You nod, not wanting to cause a scene or bring unwanted attention to yourself. All you can do is wait until the doors open.

*

“Where’s Y/n?” Yoongi looks and Jimin for an answer, who’s chatting it up with the hostess serving drinks, he’s touched her thigh at least three times.

“She went to the restroom, but they won’t let anyone back in until the bid is over,” He returns to his conversation. Normally, that wouldn’t bother Yoongi but one of Jaebum’s men left, that couldn’t be good.

“Tell him not to bid over 30k, I’ll be back,”Yoongi stands up, buttons his suit and heads out the side door despite the protests from Akane.

*

“Y/n?”

You look up at the call of your name, afraid to even see who it was.

“I never thought I’d see you here,” The familiar looking man walks up to you sitting idly by yourself, “do you remember me?”

You give him a strange look. “Do I know you?”

“Not very well, I did spend a lot of time watching your mom though, it’s Jackson, I met you that night, saved your moms life? Ringing any bells?”

“What do you want?” You tense, blood boiling just from the sight of him.

“Nothing,” He raise his hands in surrender, “I’m just surprised to see you here, I heard the news.” He makes his self comfortable beside you, “Namjoon was shot and killed, Jungkook was arrested, I guess you all were set up,”

“Did you have something to do with it?” You boldly accuse.

“That’s not our style, murder is-… messy,”

“But torture isn’t? Kidnapping isn’t?” You scoff. “Give me a fucking break, you’re all the same, I’m sure you would have murdered me if you had to, or for the right price, whichever came first.”

“Aren’t you apart of this now? First I see you in Japan almost a year ago, now your dolled up in the underground auction, you don’t just come here, these organizations are invited, so are you a member now or a dime piece to keep around? I thought you would have joined your brother.”

“Don’t talk to me,” You get up to leave him but he grabs your wrist, “get off!” You yelp, causing several eyes to land on you.

“Hey, quiet down, this is not that kind of place, word travels fast when you make a scene,” He looks around, lowering his voice, “I’m sure you don’t want that, I just want to talk, can we do that?”

“Fuck off,” You snatch your wrist away and storm your way back to the doors, hoping that they have been opened but you’re sadly mistaken. You look back and he’s hot on your trail, that’s when you run into an unexpected savior.

You gasp, Yoongi pulls you to his chest, easily shielding you from the man coming after you. When you peak over his shoulder, Jackson has made a quick detour and you look at Yoongi with panicked eyes. “Y- Yoongi, that man, he’s the one who-“

“Not here,” He whispers against your ear. He drags you off to the bathroom you just came from. The women inside quickly exit when they see him. He takes a quick peak to see if there are any legs under the stall, when it’s confirmed that it’s clear, he looks at you as if you had just broken the most expensive vase in the house.

“What the fuck are you doing? There are rules down here, you talk to those in your rank, but he can’t talk to you if you’re with me,” He presses his temples, “they didn’t tell you?”

“No,” You look down at your feet, embarrassment sweeping over you, “but he knows where my mom is, he said he’s been watching her.”

“I told you where she was long time ago, she’s safe, why are you so worked up?”

“He was there! He was there when this all started,” You cradle your head as if you’re in agony. “He took her after they almost killed her…I could kill him,”

“You can’t settle your grudges here,” He tries to guide you back out but you stubbornly stand there, “let’s go.”

You leer at him, tomato red in the face and arms crossed tightly. “Jaebum is here…How can you all just sit there like nothing ever happened?”

“You have every reason to be upset, but bitching about it won’t solve anything. If you can’t handle confronting your past, Jimin can take you back,” he grabs your hand for the second time, “now, let’s go.”

“I’m not a child! You’ve been keeping me out of the loop like I’m a child. You say I’m a member but you keep everything from me, only me! Are you the one that told Jimin not to tell me about Namjoon getting killed and Jungkook being in prison? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I have my reasons for that, lower your voice and I can explain it to you-“ You cut him off with an even louder volume.

“No! Because why don’t I deserve to know?! You are just like Jin, you don’t see me as apart of this group, and you know what? I never wanted to be! I wanted to survive, if that meant joining you crazy motherfuckers, I didn’t care about loyalty or reputation or even family, I just wanted to live.”

You pause, gauging for a reaction but you’re only met with dark eyes, that grow darker the more you speak. “Are you done?”

“Fuck no,” You sneer, “I could go on for hours actually, because my life is just that fucked up! I’m like you, Jin, and everyone else here,” You take a breath, “you should just let me die, it’s better than letting me pretend I could actually belong here, I don’t belong anywhere anymore .”

The sounds of footsteps approach the bathroom and he quickly pulls you into an empty stall. What he does next leaves you speechless—he hugs you.

His arms enclose around your waist and he presses his face into shoulder. What is happening? You timidly return his embrace, his grip gets tighter, releasing a swarm of butterflies in your belly. You let your fingers get a feel of his now long hair resting on his nape, it’s silky.

He’s warm, and he envelopes your body—it’s comfort. Your eyes slip shut as you relish in the sweet feeling of being held once again.

You hear a few gasps and giggles from the outside of the stall that quickly grow distance. His fingers dig into your back to pull you flush to him, you can feel his steady heart beat against your chest. A smile creeps up onto your lips, he does have one.

He’s human.

Who would have thought?

“Yoongi?…” You say his name in the smallest voice, resting your palms on his chest to create a bit of distance.

“I can’t lose you too,” He draws back to gaze into your wide eyes, “I lost my best friend, your brother, damn near everything…I couldn’t save them so please, I’ll get you out of this but until then, just let me have this, let me save you.”

Your eyes are glued to his eyes and pink lips, he looks almost delicate. It’s amazing, you’re in awe of the gentle Yoongi that has been revealed to you.

You take his hand from your side and hold it to your face, finally feeling just how big it is, “save me from what?…”

He looks at you, face just centimeters from your own. When he opened his mouth to speak, you took a chance—you kissed him.

He’s softer than he looks.

He’s warmer than he seems and the bitter tang of cigars fades as quickly as you taste it.

His nose is cold against your cheek, just as you expected. What you don’t expect is for your face to be tilted up by both his hands to tenderly meet him, or for his lips to part further, seeking more. Seeking you.

This is crazy, he knows it’s crazy and maybe a little tacky. This is not what the boss is supposed to be doing, he’s not supposed to do this. He is expected to have prostitutes and escorts but not love, affection, he is expected not to rely on those things. His father said he didn’t need it to survive. No doting hand, or comforting words from a sweet voice—he was trained to live without it.

Now, long gone are his fathers teachings, he could care less. He notes that your skin is plush, that your breathing is rhythmic, pleasant to hear and to feel a heat apart from his own.

Is this what he’s been missing? This type of juvenile spontaneity.

When you fail to push down a mewl, he slows his assault. He knew his mind was growing hazy, his own lips felt bruised and tingly the longer he went on. It all ends with an audible smack that should embarrass you, but you can’t think about that now. Yoongi kissed you back, as if he had been waiting to. Has he thought about this? He could have rejected you but he chose to let it happen. He deepened it, he made a real kiss out of it, you suppose you did too…

“Y/n, God,” He thumbs your bottom lip, inspecting its rich color color as your eyes finally flutter open.

Your cheeks are flush and his eyes trace over your puffy lips. “Why-…Why did you do that?” He questions you with labored breath, brows furrowed.

“You did it back…” You counter his question with a statement, then your previous question, “you didn’t answer my question, what are you trying to save me from?…”

His answer is sobering.

“From me.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“We’re so glad you could make it, it’s been so long,” Verona takes a pointed sip of her glass, “you look great.”

Melinda was invited to the family estate for dinner, they had no choice, you and Jin were no longer options.

“Thank you, I see your family has grown, you have 5 now, good for you,”

“Well, you know what they say, don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” she feigns that cheeky smile once again.

“That is what they say,” Melinda, glances at all the old faces at the table.

“So,” Henry interjects the awkward exchange, “I know your son studied medicine, what’s he up to now?”

“He’s a traveling physician,”

“You must be proud,” He tries to draw out a smile from her but he’s only met with a cold expression.

“Very,” She forces a smile, “now could you tell me the real reason you called me here? You all have never reached out to me before, unless you’ve wanted something.”

“Our mother passed away recently,” he explains cautiously, “we had a lawyer come and go through her estate, which is extensive as you know, Y/n needed to be here to represent her mother. Because we couldn’t contact her, we had to have the will reading a few weeks ago, without her. Is there a reason we can’t get ahold of her?”

How could they not have known?

“Y/n was kidnapped a year ago, she has been missing and there’s been nothing I could do about it until recently,” her stomach churns just thinking about it, “there’s an agent looking for her now, I can’t get in contact with her, I wouldn’t even know where to start in attempting to.”

“How did that happen?”

She glares. “There’s a lot you all don’t understand, and I’m not going to waste my time explaining it to you.”

“Melinda,” Verona has an almost comical look of shock on her face, “you should have told us sooner.”

“And what would that have done?” She questions. “Nothing, you would have don’t absolutely nothing, in fact you probably would have celebrated know you selfish bastards.”

She’s not wrong.

Ignoring the insult, Henry seeks to save the already fumbled conversation. “Will you let us know when or if she is found?”

“Why? You all don’t deserve to know anything about her, you all don’t even claim her, and she knows it!” Melinda angrily stands to her feet, already fed up with this family, “the only person who loved her on this side of her family is dead, what could you all possibly want from her now? You want her dead too?”

“Our sister made some mistakes,” Verona stands to her feet, “getting with your brother was one of them, now Y/n is paying for it,”

“Give it a rest m, Verona, you don’t get to talk about my family, especially Y/n,” She defends, “my brother loved his wife before and after Y/n was born, he did everything he could to protect her and he loved her to death. None of you would understand that, you’re the most screwed up family I have ever met.”

The room goes silent, awkward glances are exchanged and Melinda decides to quit wasting her time.

“I’m not doing this shit,” she storms out of the dining hall, grabbing her purse from the foyer and going to her car.

“Wait,” Verona yells for her, but she’s already in the car and pulling out of the driveway, “Melinda! Renounce the inheritance, she may already be dead by now!”

All this time, Melinda has had to deal with your being missing for a year, all alone. Another gang had her under their thumb for months, threatening to kill you if she spoke out. One day they just disappeared. That one day when she was able to speak to you, she was finally able to breathe again because she knew you were alive. She’s heard nothing since then.

She has since moved, found a new job and spends her days setting up your bedroom for when you return.

She makes it to her home with a quickness, glad to be as far from them as possible. When she walks in the door, she flicks the light on.

A shriek leaves her mouth at the sight of a man sitting comfortably in her living room. As soon as she makes out who that man is, her shock turns to anger when he stands to reveal himself.

“It’s been a long time, aunt Mel.”

She drops her purse and without much of a second thought, her hand flies across his face with all of the strength she can muster.

Her nephew.

“Shit,” He holds his face and an man comes behind her to grab her arms, “Wei, don’t touch her!” He steps back from her with no protest.

“Go wait in the car, she’s my aunt, not the enemy,” Wei leaves and the door shuts with a loud click.

“How dare you,” She stares at him, “how dare you show your face here after everything you’ve done, where the hell is your sister? I know this mess has everything to do with you.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too,” He uses his handkerchief to wipe the little bit of blood from his lip, “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Where is she?”

“That’s what I came here to talk to you about, would you have a seat, please?”

She reluctantly complies, taking a seat on the ottoman. “Talk, I’ve had a long night,”

“Alright,” Jin pushes his hair back, “I’ll first have you know, I don’t know exactly where she is. I recently came into a higher position, that costed me a lot of relationships,”

“How do you not know where she is then? You’re the reason she’s gone,”

“Correction, our father is the reason both of us are involved in this. We were together for not even a day before she was taken, we got back together, then we were separated again.”

“If she’s not with you then who is she with?”

“A big shot mafia recently lost a large portion of their organization to me—they have her, she actually chose to join them.”

Melinda frowns. “Why would she do that?”

“Within an entire year, I’m sure you can imagine someone took a liking to her,” Jin sneers, “bottom line is, she didn’t want to stay with me, she chose them.”

“And you let her?”

“I can’t make her do anything.”

“She probably had no choice, Jin, I’m sure you both chose your own selfish way, I know that much.”

“Look, I came here to talk about potentially bringing her back to you, ok? I don’t want to fight,” He takes a seat, legs crossing elegantly.

“Ever since I was a teenager,” She abruptly goes to the kitchen to pour the hardest liquor that she owns, two glasses, “I’ve kept my brothers life a secret, now I’m keeping my nephews life a secret, and you’re my family so I do it without hesitation.” She sets a glass beside Jin.

“You’ve turned my life upside down, do you know how many fucking stories I’ve had to make up because I had some lowlife thug threatening to kill her if I said she was kidnapped m? Come to find out, they didn’t even know where she was so I wasted so much time under their thumb.”

“Ah, you’re talking about Jaebum, the man that started this all, he’s actually been pushing my buttons a little lately,” Jin sighs, “but I assure you, he doesn’t have a clue where she is because neither do I.”

“Whether you believe me or not, I do want Y/n back to her regular life, I regret I ever brought you two into this,” For the first time, Jin offers what seems like a an apology, “I lost a lot and gained a lot, the least I can do is make amends with you, so please, trust me.”

“Jin, I won’t talk until you promise me you’ll bring your sister—my daughter, home.”

“Melinda, I can’t make any promises.”

“Promise me damn it!” She exclaims, throwing the now empty glass down, “My brother worked for the rest of his life to provide for us and shield her from that hell, he made sure no one even knew about us! As soon as he dies, you decide to have bad blood with everyone and we had to pay for it,”

“What do you think I had to go through?!” Now Jin is standing, vein bulging from the elevated volume of his voice. “My mother abandoned me, I didn’t grow up like Y/n, she at least had you. He forced me into this, while he was sending money to you, I was the one in hell. He was a consigliere but that doesn’t mean the job wasn’t messy, his friends changed to enemies more often than you would believe,” He takes a deep breath before sitting back down, “don’t lecture me about what you’ve gone through, we all have to deal with this shit because of him, I’m just trying to fix what I can.”

Jin rarely brings his childhood up, or lack there of. He’s a victim of this business too, just as much as you or anyone else. But know one will give him that, so, he might as well work until he’s reached the top. And he has.

“I miss her, I think about her everyday,” Tears begin to roll down her rosy cheeks, “I just want her to be safe, you can live your life the way you please but I only ask that you bring her back, if not for me then for your dad, so he can rest in peace.”

“She has to want to come home, but she’s in a bit of a bind, there’s this guy.”

“A guy?”

“I’ve known him for years, she ended up running into him and now they’re a thing, he’s literally obsessed with her. He’s convinced her that he’s the only one that can take care of her, she was vulnerable so she believed it. He’s why I haven’t been able to get her home. The good news is, he’s locked up, the bad news is, now she trusts the group and ran away from me.”

“Why is he locked up?”

“I can think of many reasons why but that’s not important, you just need to know that if he gets out, he’ll be looking for her. Until then, I’m going to try to contact her and let her speak with you, I’m sure that’ll convince her to leave them.”

“Ok, ok,” She wipes her tears, “what do I have to do until then? I want to do something to help.

“You can make sure her family doesn’t renounce her inheritance.”

“They called you too then,” She shakes her head in disbelief, “they’re so desperate for her to be dead, it pisses me off,”

“Yeah, seems like she was left with a little more cash than they expected,” Jin chuckles to himself, “either way, if it all goes as planned she me home within weeks.”

“Thank you, Jin,” Melinda embraces Jin for the first time in years, “seriously, you don’t know how much I appreciate this,” She breathes a true sigh of relief, “I want you both to be safe, you’re my nephew too, I’m sorry if I haven’t shown you that.”

He embraces her with a genuine smile, the first genuine smile he’s had in a awhile. “We’re family, we’re a little broken but we’re still family, I’m on your side.”

“Breakfast is served.”

The officer slides the tray through the window, giving the inmate some of the best food selections in the prison. It is all in vain though, he barely even picks at it.

“Hey, instead of being a picky little shit, you should eat, you have a visitor,” The guard lets out a heavy scoff. Prisoners in maximum security rarely get such treatment, the guy should be grateful.

“Who?”

“He speaks,”

The guard mocks him.

“Who is it?”

“You’ll see,”

He decides to drink the concentrate orange juice but leave the rest. He hasn’t had much of an appetite, how could he?

“Let’s go,” The officer comes back with two others and cuffs. He extends his wrist and the cuffs make that gnawing sound. The man is walked out of his cell, adorned in all navy prison suit that his tattooed body contrasts.

“Have a seat,” They push him into the room and chain his cuffs to the table as soon as he sits.

“You’re scared I’m gonna do somethin’? Whoever this fucker is, I’m sure they’re prepared to defend themselves if I do decide to do something,” He scoffs, sporting that cocky glint in his eyes that the officers have grown to despise.

“Is that a threat?”

Jungkook gives a haughty shake of the head. “Never,”

“Just shut up, your visitor is waiting,” The guard leaves the room, more annoyed than he was before. Maybe this visitation will make him less of an asshole.

There are officers watching from behind the glass and through the monitors. The prisoners looks at the cameras that were supposed to be well hidden and gives a little wave, the one-way mirror gets a cheeky smile.

When the door opens, he’s prepared for anyone to walk through that door. His enemy’s, a friend, a state-appointed lawyer wishing to discuss his case, even Namjoon.

He was prepared for anyone but her.

His eyes went wide, mouth agape and mind void of all thoughts. She stands only so tall, hair dark as night, just like his. She hasn’t changed a day, she still has that youthful face, not the face of a tired mother but a happy woman.

“Jungkook,” She takes a seat across from him and immediately holds his nearly trembling hands, “I never wanted to see you like this, this is what I was always afraid of, you used to say your group took care of you-…If that’s true, then why are you here?”

I’m dreaming.

“Jungkook,” She stares into his eyes, brows furrowed, “please, say something,”

Why would she come to see me?

“Mom, it’s been years…” He utters that name for the first time in years, “how did you know I was here?”

“Junghyun told me everything, the accident, now this,” She takes a breath, “I was so worried about you...”

Of course, he’s behind this.

“Is he here?” Jungkook’s look of awe quickly turns into a displeased one.

“Yes, he brought me here.”

“Let me talk to him,”

“Jungkook, you’ve barely talked to me,” Her heart aches a bit at his cold exterior slowly glazes him over, “he told me you were shot.”

“Grazed.” Jungkook corrects her, “I was grazed, not shot.”

“Ok, what’s the difference? you’re hurt either way. He said you were in an accident with your girlfriend a few months ago and that’s the last time he saw you?”

“Why did he tell you that?” His frown becomes even deeper, so identical to that face he used to make as a kid.

“I asked him about you, and he said you were really distraught when you were separated from her, I can imagine that you’re having a hard time right now.”

Jungyhun pulled out everything he could to get Jungkook to buckle.

“You don’t know the half of it, Mom, you really don’t, he shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I don’t have a girlfriend anymore and even if I did it wouldn’t matter, because I don’t know where anyone is,” He lets out a sigh of frustration, “Now please, let me talk to Jungyhun,”

She can’t hide her disappointment when he practically dismisses her. It’s been years since they’ve spoken, ages. Meeting in prison is certainly not ideal but she never expected him to act disinterested at the sight of her.

“Why are you being like this? You don’t want to talk to me?…” Her voice breaks.

“I’m in prison, ma,” He states the obvious, “I don’t have anything and I don’t know what’s going on,” he hesitates for a moment, “what could we possibly talk about?”

“I- I don’t know,” She recoils, hands moving to her lap and away from her son, “I missed you…You’re so tall now, you have all this ink on your arms, but you have that same face, just like your father-”

“I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

It was true.

“I missed you, Jungkook, I love you.”

“I used to miss you too,” He sighs to himself, “I missed you the moment you left, then I came to my fucking senses.”

She should have known.

“If you would have stayed with me, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”

He used to take everything personally, he still does.

“Are you blaming me for this?... That’s not fair, Jungkook, I asked you not to live like this, I begged you to stop.”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to and you knew that.” His fists tighten in the cuffs, his eyes darken too.

“Well was it worth it? Swearing your loyalty to those people?”

“They’re my family! they’ve been there for me,” He furrows his brows, “when you were gone, they took me in, they will always be worth it.”

“I’m your family, Jungkook,” She utters in a shaky tone, “your brother and I, we’re your blood, we love you-“

“Please,” He holds his face with both hands, tension resonating from the back of his neck to the front of his head, “just let me talk to Junghyun,”

She leaves the room, pushing back tears.

“He wants to talk to you,”

With a heavy sigh, the older of the Jeons makes his way into the room and Jungkook eyes him like prey. “What are you trying to do here? Give her a fucking heart attack?”

This kid.

“What am I trying to do? Jungkook, you’re unbelievable,” Junghyun sits down, looking just like the angry sibling in front of him.

“Why did you bring her here? Who put you up to this?”

“You're in prison, and you haven’t seen Mother in years, I thought you’d be happy to see her, hell, given the circumstances, I thought I’d get at least a thank you,”

Jungkook glares up at him.

“It’s not easy for her to see you like this y’know, no mother wants this for their child, how could you treat her so cold?”

Jungkook offers no response.

“I found out that you’re more than just a gang member, you’re what they call ‘high ranking’. I talked to the chief and they want to prosecute you for your extensive rap sheet.”

He squirms in his seat, eyes cutting from his brother to the camera in the corner.

“If you work with me, the chief is willing to cut a deal with you.”

“Why are you cozy with him?”

“I’m in the government, I’m the director of health a welfare,” Junghyun walks around the table, “I’m in high places and I know people, I want to help you.”

“Why would you help me? Aren’t I a disgrace? You’ve always lived life as if you’re ashamed of me, what’s the sudden change of heart?”

“I’m not ashamed of you, you pushed me and your mother away,” Junghyun sighs, “the lawyer will come talk to you in the morning, we can negotiate a plead deal if you agree to share some information.”

“Not interested, thanks.”

“Jungkook, stop being stupid! This life, it’s screwed you over and you’re alone. No one is coming to save you and the only people who give a damn enough to be here is your real family.”

He won’t admit it but he has been waiting for three months to wake up and see Namjoon getting him out of this place. A week turned to two weeks, then three, then a month, then three months. Not a word, not a message, nothing.

“Do you want to see Kim Y/n?”

Jungkook’s demeanor shifts noticeably.

“One of the best agents is looking for her now, once they find her-“

“You can’t bribe me with her.”

That actually comes as a shocker to the older Jeon but he doesn’t show it.

“You're not with her anymore?”

“Why does it matter to you?“

All of a sudden, the door opens and a tall woman with bangs and eye catching full red lips walks in.

A set up.

“Mr. Jeon, I’m agent Lisa Ban, I’ve been heading a case for Kim Y/n, according to hospital records, 10 months ago Ms. Kim was checked into the ER because of a car accident, with you. Do you know where she is right now?”

Jungkook stares at the woman as if she’s spouting out gibberish.

“Was she with you against her will?”

Still, Jungkook just stares at her.

“Sir, Ms. Kim was seen with you, the nurse on staff said you two appeared to be in a relationship, is that true?”

“Jungkook, answer the questions,” Junghyun exasperates, “why’re you being so damn difficult?”

“Mr. Jeon, she went missing a year ago and since then, she has only been seen with you. You have nothing to gain from this, you’re in prison and we need your help to find her, if you cared about her you would help.”

“I can’t help you.”

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #bts mafia au #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #it burns doesn’t it #IBDI #yoongi mafia au #bts mafia fic #bts mafia imagine #jungkook mafia au

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike meets Jeremy Fitzgerald

#myart #chloesimagination #comic #jeremy fitzgerald #michael afton #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf 2 #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #FINALLY more of Jeremy!! #sorry it’s taken so long for more of this boy but he returns 🩵 #Mike doing a self burn here too #HE knows very well he doesn’t have friends so how Michael got one #(​Mike has one friend too and that’s Jeremiah) #Least Mike made Jeremy laugh- #Jeremy just got here and his homie already being out on blast #I love the idea of Jeremy and Michael actually being friends #like Michael is awful anti social monster and he’s buddies with the most chipper guy ever #it’s good bit I think it’ll be fun to explore that more! #I gotta draw Jeremy more after this #there’s sm to draw with him 💜💜 #I hope yall like him and his design!!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 200

Danny has found himself reincarnated, for fun! While waiting for Tucker to reincarnate. He’s uh, found himself as a clone now- thankfully stable! But he was apparently also an accident, and overheard some of the people talking about termination, which no thanks?

So apparently he wasn’t exactly an accident per se, they did mean to make a clone, so thank fuck for that! They had apparently grabbed the wrong blood, which he almost snorts at. Kind of hard to do in a tube full of liquid though. 

Oh well, he’ll just be leaving now… after he destroys this lab and steals all these files on himself, thank you~ Now, does he want to go on an adventure or find his unwilling donors first…

#Dcxdp #Dpxdc #Prompts #Danny is a Superbat clone #They meant to grab Wonder Woman’s blood but clay doesn’t bleed so #Why yes the league & Co do in fact learn about this lab and arrive about an hour after Danny escapes #He’s already gone by the time they get there but there are a few spare files #Danny is just vibing and testing what powers he has and doesn’t #He’ll miss his intangibility but it’s not like he used it that often during battle #Ooh he’s kept his sharp canines that’s cool #Wow according to his files he’s half alien that’s so cool #He’s sittin on some random mountain while discovering his natural ventriloquism ability & having fun mimicking birds #And is nearly discovered when he discovers the heat vision and burns through part of said mountain #When he IS eventually found the heroes just see this five year old floating above some grass #and trying to Carefully catch some fireflies #Danny is trying to not crush them but it looks a lot like a kid discovering the world for the first time #Fuck it #Superbat

[crismakesstuff]

I am a forest fire

And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it

I stand in a valley watching it

And you are not there at all

#invincible #invincible show #invincible spoilers #invincible season 2 #a burning hill #mitski #this song is so debbie #invincible fanart #crismakesstuff #she deserves to burn the world down after everything #hopefully she doesn’t burn herself up in the process #u guys don’t get how much I think about her #i love her so much #debbie grayson #illustration

[stevebabey]

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart

word count: 9.5k synopsis: you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates... right? [based on this post] [fem!reader + strangers to lovers but… steve’s a big sap for you already, ok?]

The first letter comes in on a Tuesday. 

It’s posted in an ordinary envelope, with only a messy scrawl on the front to dictate that it was for the advice column of Hawkins Post. Inside revealed the same loopy letters, on a single piece of paper, reading: 

Out of all the letters you’ve ever received at this job, most of which were lengthy admissions of troubles in suburbia, this one was by far the most interesting one you’d gotten all month. All year if you were being honest.

Writing advice under the pen name Gabby for your local paper likely wasn’t anyone’s first choice of job, not at least for those serious about writing as yourself was.

But between flipping burgers down at Benny’s and slinging shakes at Rita’s Diner, it seemed the lesser of all evils. And hey, it paid decently enough and you had a sweet little set-up in one of the drowsy corners of the office. 

It’s how you wind up here, scanning over the letter from one mysterious S.

It’s penned on some spare paper, nothing special. It wasn’t even lined paper like you might usually use for sending a letter of any sorts. It intrigued you the moment it had been dropped into your basket.

Hands flipping through the 4 other letters in there, rows of soft pink and blue envelopes, all with familiar handwriting, you determined that this one was, indeed, a new writer.

You practically devoured it from the first line. Gossip was rampant in Hawkins, like all small towns, but it was not so often shared so publicly with the paper, despite the anonymity that came with the advice column.

Most people in Hawkins seemed to come for advice on outshining their neighbours with a peach cobbler. Some asked whether jazzercise really was the go. There were very few sad tales of love in between the mush.

But this? Even just from the use of the word crush, you knew this wasn’t the average housewife talking midlife marital issues. This was someone your age.

It’s just a little bit funny, you admit — you, yourself, couldn’t imagine ever turning to the local paper to seek out love-life advice. Especially considering none of your previous replies as Gabby implied you had expertise in that area.

You decided it meant they were truly desperate or perhaps completely a hopeless romantic, or a bit of both.

But you couldn’t lie, either way, it’s entirely endearing to you.

It didn’t matter that it was probably someone who had no ‘game’, it was entirely completely made up by the fact they were clearly trying very hard, very genuinely.

They cared enough about getting things right. Whoever they were wooing was very lucky— re-reading over the short letter shoots a grimy wave of envy through your chest. When was the last time someone cared that much about a first date with you? About any date with you? The answer was… probably, never.

It didn’t help either that you had just landed yourself a date. A date with Steve Harrington.

For just a moment, a very brief moment, you look down at the signed S and wonder: would he?

No, he wouldn’t, you decide swiftly. The fragile hope that briefly hung up on the idea is shaken off as you recall his charismatic nature, his easy grin when he asked you out just the other week.

There had been a bit of nervousness, sure, but when you consider the dating history he’d had through high school, well… You feel embarrassed for even considering it. 

King Steve Harrington doesn’t need help with his dates.

Besides, the letter clearly states this was S’s long-time crush. You were fairly certain that if the school’s golden boy harboured any sort of feelings for you, it wouldn’t have slipped past your radar.

Last time you checked, Steve had only noticed you when you had gone into Family Video the other week — when he had promptly asked if you wanted to see a movie together sometime.

Sure, it hadn’t been nearly as smooth as you expected, though, that wasn’t to say you weren’t charmed. You’d heard a lot about Steve— though, who at Hawkins High hadn’t?

He had been that customer-service type of welcoming, hands braced against the countertop as he leaned into it, a handsome smile on his face.

You had pretended your stare didn’t linger on his arms. Or that you were drinking in all the subtle changes to himself, physically and more, since his primped-up freshmen-self. 

You had even admitted to yourself that he managed to pull off the dweeby Family Video vest, trailing behind him as he led you both to the action-film section.

Steve had stood close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him, and had helped debate your choice. He didn’t even comment when you got distracted looking at his arms when he crossed them, even though he smiled a little more smugly, having seen your wandering eyes.

Like it was your fault he had gorgeous, tanned, toned arms that made you want to drool.

But even with all his suaveness, Steve still looked surprised when you laughed at his joke, or his attempt at one — and then some of his coolness seemed to flee.

He had fumbled through the whole interaction of checking out your film and asked if you’d like to ‘maybe if you want, totally cool if not’, wanted to watch one with him sometime.

You think you’d say yes all over again just to see the way he had lit up. He positively beamed, then swiftly ducked his head to hide his hasty grin.

Saturday at 8, you’d agreed on. At the Hawk. He’d pay for the tickets and you’d shout the snacks. It’s a date, were his exact words. He had looked extra delighted when you had repeated them back to him with a nervous grin of your own.

It’s what you think of as you peer down at the letter in your hands, loopy scrawls telling a plea in love. You think about what you hope you’ll get on a first date — with Steve or anyone, for that matter — and pull up a new sheet to draft a response.

It’s about the only advice you can give. Truthfully, dates fail for a multitude of reasons that change on a day-to-day basis and if this S just didn’t match with their date, well… that was out of your hands.

But if S liked them this much, enough to reach out to the murky depths of the local paper’s advice column, then they should show that. If nothing else, you’re sure their date would be flattered at their sincerity.

Try as you might not, the letter plagues your mind as you leave work. Your response sits on your desk, penned up and ready to be printed for the Friday morning paper, hopefully giving enough time to your advice-seeking S.

By Saturday, however, it’s the last thing on your mind — it’s hard for anything else to occupy it when it bubbles away blissfully at the thought of your date later in the evening.

You try to not let your thoughts carry away with what Steve might wear, what film you’d watch, whether you’d be able to sneakily hold his hand in the shadows of the cinema.

It plays a romantic pink-saturated loop in your brain, daydreaming of some silly kiss in the back row because Steve just can’t resist, he’s had a crush on you for so long— okay, maybe the letter was on your mind just a little.

But 8 o’clock whirls around faster than you expect and you arrive outside the cinema with only a couple minutes to spare. You’re more than relieved to see Steve already there, leaning up against the brick wall where the upcoming movies are showcased, bathed in soft golden light. 

He’s got on a pair of dark wash jeans and the polo he’s wearing stretches around his arms deliciously, forcing a giddy sigh from your lips.

There’s a jacket slung over his crossed arms and one of his feet is tapping rapidly against the ground. Even from afar, you can see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Your heart spurs faster at the sight. He’s nervous.

“Steve!” You call out, unable to help how you’re already smiling like a lovesick fool. It doesn’t help when Steve’s head pops up, his hair bouncing just a bit. He lights up at the sight of you, features moving from worry to something happier. 

He straightens up, back scraping the bricks, and he steps forward to meet you in the middle.

“Hey,” he breathes, a grin stretching over his lips. This close, you can smell the cologne he’s wearing— something musky, with a hint of bergamot — and your head spins, all dizzy with delight.

“Hey, yourself.” You reply as playfully as you can manage. You swallow back another wave of nerves.

Fuck, was he this pretty when he asked you out? In the space of a couple of days, he seems to have gotten even more attractive. He’s got that entire look about him that reminds you of a daydream.

“You look, uh, really lovely tonight.” Steve compliments, tucking his hands into his front pockets nervously. He sounds so sincere it aches, the words worming under your skin til you believe them completely; he really does think you look lovely.

It’s a strange moment of consideration you find yourself having. You’re here, on a date with Steve Harrington and he thinks you look really lovely.

It’s not like you hadn’t heard the rumours about the cosmic shift in the King of Hawkins High — going from sneering at other kids in the hallways to cleaning off graffiti on his own accord. 

Yet, some small part of you is still delightfully surprised, as though it had been unconvinced until you had seen it for yourself. In the past, a part of you had been truly miffed at the waste of a pretty face on a douchebag like King Steve. 

Now, it’s like an entirely different person. When Steve offers you another smile, earnest and sweet, you’re secretly glad to get to be the one who takes a chance on him.

You come to a standstill at the back of the winding line outside the ticket booth, the pair of you lingering closer than needed. The brush of his shoulder against your own feels blazing, a streak of warmth. You hope he can’t feel your resounding shiver— and half-hope that he does and gets closer because of it.

“That— uh, thank you,” you manage to remember your words. Even better, you manage to accept the compliment semi-regularly, even though your insides are knitting themselves into a tangle of nervous anticipation.

“You too. Look nice!” You say, louder than you intend. The girl ahead of you peers over her shoulder and somehow even that’s not enough to keep your mouth from running. “I mean, you sort of always look good. That’s kinda—” you wave your hand over him generally, “—your thing. Looking… nice.”

Dear god stop, you will yourself, mouth snapping shut and eyes following quickly, screwed up in embarrassment. Way to completely disregard the advice you gave a stranger and pile on the appearance-based compliments.

You do your best to hide your wince as you peek your eyes back open. It’s a relief to see Steve chuckle good-naturedly, a delicate pink touching the apples of his cheeks.

“You know,” Steve begins as the line ambles forward slowly. His gaze switches between the ground and you, too nervous to commit to looking you straight on. “I didn’t just ask you out because you’re pretty.” 

He pauses. Rethinks his words and makes a hasty correction. “I do! Think that you’re pretty, that is.”

His quick assurance makes you laugh just a bit and you hide it behind a bitten-back smile. Steve stops examining his shoes for a moment, glancing to check you haven’t taken his words the wrong way.

Your heart feels like it does a forward roll in your chest, seeing his even pinker cheeks. God, in what world do you make Steve Harrington so nervous?

“I just—” Steve continues, shoulders hiking up a bit, another nervous motion. “I don’t want you to think that that’s the only reason, I asked. I like that you’re nice. You’ve always been nice.”

You blink at him. In a moment of clarity, a couple of revelations roll through your mind, each one steamrolling the last one before you can grapple each one properly.

Revelation No. 1. is the fact that Steve had noticed you. Past tense. Noticed you enough to think you’re nice and bookmark that in his brain. He remembers things about you. And then— then he had made a special effort to compliment you. Specifically outside of your appearance.

And hadn’t you just given specific advice like that? You had! You had given advice to an anonymous person known only as S, with instructions for their first date. Their first date with their long-time crush.

Which means... you’re Steve Harrington’s long-term crush. Which means, oh my god, Steve Harrington accidentally wrote into your job to ask you for advice on his date with you.

The result of the revelations, each one blooming quickly as the one before it, leaves you entirely speechless for a moment. Baffled. You gape like a fish, mouth flapping around empty words. You can’t quite compute it. Steve? Steve is the one who wrote to the local paper for advice? Steve Harrington wrote in for advice about a date with you? His long-term crush?

You’re thankful Steve’s nervous enough to not look at you because, for a silent 10 seconds, you’re sure every emotion from ecstatic and bewildered crosses your features. What in the actual hell?

You’re not sure how you expect yourself to continue this date and act like a regular person, knowing what you know.

And, more importantly, should you tell Steve? 

You get about 10 more seconds of floundering to debate it, tossing up a thousand different ways this entire evening could change if you reveal yourself.

Steve would be embarrassed. Steve would be angry. Steve wouldn’t believe you and just think you’re messing with him. Steve didn’t even write the letter and you’ve connected dots that don’t even exist.

You can’t pinpoint which one is the truth. You truthfully don’t know Steve well enough to predict how he might react, no matter how sweet he may have been. A realisation of how quiet you’ve been rolls through you when Steve’s head pulls up, concern knitting his brows together.

Something else altogether comes out of your mouth instead.

“You noticed me?”

Steve goes even more red. It’s a glorious sight and in an instant, you can tell he hasn’t meant to give that much away. The line shuffles forward and Steve seems thankful for it, clearing his throat and eyeing the ticket box ahead like he was wishing you were both there already. There’s only one more couple ahead of you.

“Is that weird?” He says after a moment, his voice a bit smaller than before.

“What?” You say, because it’s the last thing you’re expecting him to say. “No! I’m sorry I didn’t— that wasn’t an accusation!”

You mull over your thoughts, trying your best to put into words how it had actually made you feel. How it had soaked your inside with giddiness, not with worry. 

“It’s... really sweet, actually.” You admit, feeling bold enough to nudge your shoulder against his.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, the question said so earnestly it’s like he’s not quite sure he believes you.

“I mean,” You smile, sneaking a nervous glance sideways at him. He’s watching you, expression hinting at anticipation. You nod, continuing, “I’m glad you didn’t just ask me out because you think I’m pretty.”

The last word comes out a bit strained. It feels strange to admit it out loud even with the way Steve looks at you; little glitters of adoration in his eyes.

“It’s-” You clear your throat and bite back a smile that might be too eager. “It’s nice to be noticed.” 

Steve makes a small sound of content, like some sort of pleased hum. Then the couple ahead of you is moving and it’s your turn to step up for tickets.

You hurry through tickets and snacks, getting a packet of Reese's Pieces, some popcorn, and one huge cup of soda with two neon-coloured straws sticking out. When you duck through the velvet curtains at the theatre doors, arm already looped through Steve’s, it feels like you’re entering not as two people but as something closer. 

The evening whirls by in a lavender haze and Steve is nothing short of everything sweet and charming. Even with his nerves tripping him up now and then, it’s all endearing to you.

You two are the last ones out of the cinema, ushered out by bored employees whose glaring only deepened when they realised you and Steve had conducted a popcorn throwing competition between yourselves. You had been left in the dust, with Steve catching near every piece you threw at him. You were less gracious, salt smearing on your cheeks from so many missed throws. 

By the time you’re both back out the front, the night has found a chill to drape across the evening. The sky glitters darkly. The bulbs surrounding the front of the cinema glow and crackle quietly and you’re pleasantly delighted to find you don’t want to leave just yet.

“Hey,” Steve starts. He’s stuffed his hands in his pockets but you can see them twisting about nervously. “Yanno, I had a really good time tonight.”

You can see the moment he bites his tongue and holds back another sentence. You smile as encouragingly as you can — though something about how well the night has gone has your courage growing, doubling, tripling in size.

“Me too.” You admit. You ignore how your palms start to dampen just a titch and seize the words before your nerve fails you. “Did you— do you want to do it again, maybe?”

Steve nods, a stray strand of his hair escaping with the enthusiasm of the motion. He chuckles a bit, pushes it back, and steps closer. “Yes. I mean, yes, of course. You’re... this was so lovely.”

There’s a stir ecstatically in your chest in his words, which drip in sincerity. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, head ducked in shyness. It’s still strange, for someone to be so forward in their affections to you. “Um, should I- I could give you my number?”

Steve nods again, just as fervently as last time. He’s somehow gotten closer in just the few minutes you’ve been speaking like there’s a magnetism within you that he can’t resist.

“Yeah, totally! Did you — I don’t have a pen, I’m sorry,” He chuckles again. His hand scratches at the back of his neck.

You’re thankful for your insane preparedness, digging through your bag to produce a pen. By the time you pop the cap off it, a green marker, Steve’s already rolled back his sleeve. He holds out his arm.

“Your canvas awaits,” He jokes. Your smile grows into a grin, almost ashamed of how funny you found that. God, crushes made you stupid — though thankfully Steve seems to grin wider at hearing your laugh.

You curl your fingers around his wrist to hold his arm still. He’s warm, hot blood pumping beneath your touch. You try not to focus on how you can feel his pulse under your fingertips, nor how it’s racing far faster than normal. After your number, you hesitate for a moment before adding a quick doodle of a heart. It’s sloppy, not exactly your best work. 

Steve loves it. The moment you release his arm, he thumbs over the heart. Steve looks up at you, an infectious type of smile on his face now. “I’ll give you a call, yeah?”

You nod, tucking your hands in your pocket. You’re unable to stop yourself from rocking up onto the balls of your feet in your excitement. 

“Uh, you should probably call after 9 unless you want to meet my mom already.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Got it. After 9. No meeting mom just yet.” He promises.

This time, reading the letter feels like there’s sparking gunpowder littered in your very heart — lighting it up in a frenzy of fire in your chest as you read. It’s impossible to do anything except inhale each new word. You felt a little bad, sure, reading a review of your own date but then again, it was your job.

Besides, you’d tell Steve. When... Well, alright, you weren’t totally sure when you were going to tell him.

Definitely not before the next date. It was still fragile — and some part knew that if you told him, there was a good chance Steve would be too embarrassed. Would work himself up over it and it would ruin everything.

It was like... a souffle. You had to take it out of the oven at the right time; too soon, and everything would sink in on itself.

So, you decided to wait it out. Dish out some more advice and... see how the next date went.

You write back, There isn’t such a thing as giving too much away. This girl will be flattered to know you care as much as you do. Take her somewhere special to you.

It’s just enough of a nudge you think. ‘Somewhere special’ was a wide-open prompt that Steve could interpret as he liked. He could pick just how intimate the next date would be. You promise to yourself quietly, that if you get a third date, you’ll tell him then. 

Steve calls you the night after your responding advice is published in The Hawkins Post. 10 minutes past 9pm. He tells you, voice low and sweet, that he’s got a surprise spot in mind.

“If you’re up for that,” Steve hastily tacks on. “We don’t have to. I’m- we can go out for dinner if you’d prefer that. I totally love dinner.”

Faintly through the phone, you hear the quiet noise, like a thud. You have to smother down a giggle as you realise Steve’s smacked himself with the phone in his own exasperation.

“I’m up for a surprise,” You assure him, clutching the phone a bit tighter in your excitement. “That sounds fun.”

“Fun,” Steve echoes, with a tone of disbelief. Like he hadn’t believed you’d agree until, well, you had. “Yes! It’ll be fun. So much. I hope so. When are you free?”

His words come out so quickly. You can’t hide your laugh this time, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to try to dissuade the giddy grin threatening your lips. No dice. Nothing can stop your elation.

“What kind of surprise are we talking about?” You ask first, thinking over your next words, wondering if you’re brave enough to say them. You take the leap. “Because, well, I know it’s a Tuesday but I’m free tomorrow night and—“

“Yes.” Steve cuts in eagerly. “Tomorrow night, let’s do it. I can pick you up?”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding even though he can’t see it. You don’t think your grin can’t get any wider, barely contained enough to relay your address for him to jot down.

Tuesday evening is soft, the sky a pale blue that washes warmth over the day. Steve picks you up on time. He’s handsome as ever, leaning up against the driver's side door as he waits for you.

Your heart does a little skip when he straightens up upon spotting you, perking up like he had at the cinema. It reminds you faintly of a dog wagging its tail; his happiness at seeing you so visible to see. 

“Did you get prettier since the last time I saw you?” He says, in lieu of greeting as you trot down to meet him. You feel heat bloom beneath your cheeks.

“I-” Your nerves creep up and honesty takes over your words. “I don’t know how to answer that.” You titter out a laugh, a smile tugging at your mouth.

Steve hums as you come to a stop before him. He pretends to give you a serious once over, his eyes light and smile easy. His gaze comes back up to rest on your face before he nods firmly.

“Mmhm, it’s just as I expected.” He reports back, soft and genuine. “Prettier in every way.”

You laugh again, nervousness bleeding into the sound but his words sink into your skin warmly. Fingers twisting into your sweater, you try to rein in your rabbiting heart.

“You’re a goof, anyone ever tell you?”

Steve grins. “Never said I wasn’t. Now, your chariot awaits.”

He sweeps an arm to the car behind him.

He’s right, it is a surprise. You’re not entirely sure where you’d been anticipating — maybe his favourite spot to eat? But instead, he takes you to a clearing, with blankets of grass and wildflowers dotted across the landscape.

For a moment, when you creep out from his car, hands still clutching the edge of the door, you wonder if this is how he found Skull Rock and the likes — that maybe Steve Harrington was an explorer by nature. You think back to your advice and wonder; what makes this place special to him? 

Your heart twists, knowing that he’s taken your advice, even if some part of you tears up in guilt. You will tell him. You take solace in knowing there’s not much to be guilty of; telling him the best way to woo you is hardly terrible manipulation.

Sure, it’s swindling but... of the sweetest kind. You lead him to your heart and in return, get to steal his own.

Steve’s brought along a blanket and picnic for the two of you. There are crudely cut sandwiches, though you don’t doubt he’s tried his best, paired with punnets of ripe fat strawberries. It’s... adorable. Dizzily endearing, how much effort he’s put in for you.

Your heart aches a little more at his pink cheeks as he unpacks all this for you like he’s worried what you’ll think. He is worried about what you’ll think, you realise. Despite all you’ve heard and known about King Steve, your mind winds up thinking back to his letter... I don’t want her to get freaked out if I come on too strong.

A fire of determination burns in your chest. Loving loudly would never be— could never be something to hide. Nor to feel embarrassed over, not with you at least.

So, you start by trying to feed him a strawberry, like a thousand romance novels have taught you. Instead of a cute gesture, you smush it into his cheek instead by accident as he turns his face suddenly. An apology squeaks out of you.

“I’m— oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You’re wiping the red juice splattered on his cheek, your own cheeks feeling fiery and hot. Steve takes your endless apologies well, assuring away the beginnings of your mortification.

He only manages to truly stop your flow of embarrassed apologies by squishing a sandwich against your cheek as well, just to make it fair — a peel of your laughter fills the field, some of your nervousness floating away with it.

Then, just as you had, Steve wipes off the smear of cream cheese on your chin with his thumb, the motion soft and gentle. Your nerves jump around again.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, finally asking the question that’s been burning since you arrived. “Because I’m loving this date but… Why did you pick this spot?” 

You’re careful to word your question in a way that doesn’t give away what else you know. Beside you, Steve takes a moment to think. His eyes scan over your face before he tilts it back to face the clearing, his arms resting on his propped up knees.

He’s just a boy. A pretty boy on a picnic rug he brought along to your date, in a field of flowers that he took you to. You have the thought to compare him to a painting in this moment right as Steve starts to speak.

“I came up here a whole lot after,” Steve heaves a loud sigh like he’s regretful for what he’s about to bring up. “After me and Nancy broke up. It was good to get out of town and just, like, have my own time to think. To think about what I really wanted.” 

You dare to ask. “And did you figure it out? What you really wanted?” 

Steve glances over at you and smiles crookedly. It’s one of his real smiles, you’ve come to realise. “To not get my heart broken again, for starters. That just— that shit sucked, you know?” 

He laughs a little bitterly, more to himself, and steals another glance at you, like his words are a test and he’ll find an answer in your expression. You smile gently, hoping to convey every softness that you have for him. Every good intent. 

“Well, m’not looking to do that.” You admit truthfully. “Maybe, I’ll… I’ll ease the ache?” 

Steve seems to soften at your words, relaxing. His shoulders drop an inch. “I hope so.” 

“And maybe, I want a little bit of loverboy Steve Harrington for myself too.” You say, your smile turning more coy. It’s true that loverboy was one of the nicknames for Steve tossed around Hawkins High halls but it hadn’t really stuck the same way The Hair or King Steve had. Except for, well, secretly with you.

“Loverboy?” 

“That’s what they call you!” 

“And who are they?” Steve asks, some of his signature charm creeping back in. He smirks at you, leaning in closer and your breath hitches nervously. You grin despite it. 

“People!” 

“Uh huh…” 

Time flows easily around the two of you, weaving like the softest cocoon. As the sunset blossoms, the grassy clearing becomes breathtaking. The moment the sun dips below the horizon, dimming the sky and encouraging out the stars, you suddenly know why this is Steve’s special spot.

He stretches out on his back, eyes to the sky. You copy him. Two little bodies cocooned in the sweet grass, wrapped in the night-time.

“This might seem strange,” Steve starts. His brows are bunched together, thinking hard, but his expression lightens as he turns his face to you. “But... Thank you for coming out here with me. For trusting me.”

A beat of quiet. A wind ruffles over the clearing, a soft whistle in the night. Steve swallows nervously. “Was it a good surprise?”

His question is so earnest it aches. It’s so obvious that he just wants to do this right and well for you.

You know now that even without your advice through the paper, Steve would have charmed you all the same. That you might’ve taken another route and it might’ve taken another couple of dates before you got here, sharing secret spots— but that you’d end up here, with him, regardless.

“It was,” you tell him truthfully, chest glittering with happiness. You smile at him, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Thank you for showing me.”

Steve grins. He turns back to face the sky, eyes cinching shut for a moment. Breathes in the moment. You admire the dimple of his smile. His pretty mouth. His eyes peek back open as turns back to you, voice dropped down into a whisper, “You’re welcome.”

It feels like a little more than you’re welcome — like maybe, he’s thanking you too. You’re really thanking yourself too, for wandering into Family Video when you had, for saying yes to Steve, for giving yourself this chance with him.

Moonlight shadows across his face, strong brows and sloped nose even more defined in the dark. You stare, eyes dragging from mole to mole, avoiding his intense brown eyes that threaten to make everything in your chest melt pathetically.

Shit, is he going to kiss you? Your stomach jumps with a spike of pure want and you move forward— right as Steve sits up. Embarrassment flushes down your spine and you recoil back, sitting up quickly as Steve had but not quick enough.

“Wait,” Steve says suddenly, twisting to glance at where you’d both been lying just a moment. In your panic, you don’t hear the eagerness in his voice. “Were you gonna—?”

Somehow, it seems more embarrassing to admit it aloud. That you might have been ballsy enough to kiss Steve first. You shake your head without thinking about it, arms coming to curl around your knees. Fuck, you wish you had read that moment right.

“Uh,” You spit out stupidly. “No, no, it was just…” you clear your throat. The awkwardness of the moment is nearly painful.

“I mean, yes,” you correct yourself quietly, clearing your throat again. You don’t want Steve to think you don’t want to kiss him. “I was, but—“

“You were?” Steve sounds close to devastation. His expression has crumpled a bit, regret rippling off him in waves. Your stomach turns.

“It’s okay!” You assure him hurriedly. “It’s— you know, the moments gone but there’s always… next time, right?” Your voice comes out a bit tight.

Steve seems a tad bit relieved at your words, shoulders deflating an inch or so. He nods along, even though you can still see the tinge of embarrassment on his face — it’s adorable, that he’s the one feeling embarrassed like it wasn’t you who made a move at the wrong time.

“Yeah,” Steve hasn’t stopped nodding, even as his gaze has travelled off you, staring down at his hands. The furrow in his brow hasn’t eased up, still drawn together in the middle, even as he agrees, “Yeah, next time. Uh, totally.”

Then, his head jerks up in your direction. “I’m sorry, by the way, I didn’t mea—“

You wave him off, a nervous chuckle coming out. You sort of want to bury your missed kiss along with all your humiliation but with every other word but Steve keeps kicking off the dirt. “Seriously, it’s fine, Steve. Really.”

His nod isn’t all that convincing to say he believes you.

Regret festers deep in your gut when the evening seems to derail from that point on. Try as you might, you can tell Steve is stuck in his own head; no doubt hounding himself for the strange rebuff he’d given you.

It would be endearing, that he’s so twisted up inside over it, if it didn’t seep awkwardness into the remainder of your date. You wish you hadn’t tried to kiss him.

The car ride to drop you home is absent of the sweet conversation you’d had when he’d picked you up. Words lull, just an oddly tense air between you two. You’re not sure how to fix this.

When Steve pulls up to the curb, the engine idling with a low rumble, you don’t open the door, not yet. Instead, you turn to Steve.

He’s already waiting, already looking over at you, a hint of worry in his expression — though, it’s gone in a flash.

Steve peels his white-knuckled grip off the steering wheel, pressing his hands into his thighs nervously. He gives a strange sort of chuckle and exhales.

“Right,” He starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know that— well, obviously, that wasn’t how I’d hoped that would go at the end and—”

He pauses, eyes scrunching shut with a groan as he tries to collect his words. The next sentence looks like it takes effort to grind out. “I would understand, is all, if you decided you didn’t want to go out again—”

“I do.” 

“—because that was, well- wait, what?”

Steve forces his eyes open and doesn’t even try to hide his astonishment. Your heart throbs achingly at his obvious surprise.

“I do want to go out again.” You nod along with your words. Being so sincere makes you feel a bit naked, forcing your vulnerability out into the open so that you don’t let him spiral. But you’d rather deal with that discomfort that let Steve get the wrong idea.

“Yeah?” Steve breathes. He seems to remember himself, picking his hands off his lap and draping them over the steering wheel. They tap at it lightly. Still nervous. “I’ll— I’ll call you?”

You nod again. For a brief moment, you think of how dates are supposed to end with kisses, or so you’re told. Your eyes dip down to his lips.

You want to. Even just pressing a peck to his cheek might satisfy your churning, growing urge to kiss him — but you certainly don’t have enough courage scraped together after his accidental rebuff.

A little part of you whispers meanly that it may not have been so accidental.

“After 9pm, remember?” You hear yourself say with a smile. Opening the door, you step out onto the sidewalk and close it gently behind you.

Then you deliver Steve one more smile, one more look back, because that’s the bravest you can be at the moment.

He doesn’t call the next night.

Or the night after.

You’re certainly not expecting another letter from Steve, especially considering how your phone has sat idle and quiet in its cradle since your date on Tuesday. Ringing, but not for you.

But come Friday morning— there is it.

Another letter, scribbled in handwriting you’re coming to recognise. Your heart stammers through the next couple beats as you realise what it is, who has sent it.

This time, you nearly consider not reading it. For him and for you, you consider letting it get lost in the piles of paper, never seen, never read. But burning curiosity wins, coddled by your bruised ego.

This letter is messier and more hurried than its predecessors, letters looping together all slanted.

And…oh.

A small worry in you settles. Changes and transforms into something warmer as you realise he hasn’t called you because he’s waiting for advice first. Waiting, unknowingly, for you to answer him.

You genuinely think the space where your heart is supposed to be is empty — that the organ has melted down like gooey candle wax, dripping down your ribcage in burning hot affection. Your chest aches in the best way.

You’d never understood films where girls lie on their beds and kick their feet up, doodling hearts on paper. The urge is suddenly quite overwhelming. Christ. Steve really likes you.

He hadn’t called you back because— because part of him thinks you wouldn’t want him too. That one missed kiss would be the dealbreaker, even after those lovely dates.

You want to scoff, to laugh, to track down Steve and grip him by the shoulders and say, ‘I think you’re stuck with me if you’ll have me!’

You settle for pulling out a fresh sheet to draft your response.

It’s a bit of a gamble, considering the part about the stars is complete codswallop. The newspaper doesn’t even technically have an astrologist; the horoscopes are auto-generated every week. You’re praying Steve won’t know that.

The paper goes to print on Friday evening, for the early weekend morning the day after. Saturday morning, there’s a call of your name downstairs and you’re halfway down the stairs when you pause at the sight of your mom on the phone.

“Someone on the phone for you,” She comments, the smallest raise of her eyebrows. You ignore the way that makes you hot inside, rushing down the end of the stairs to rescue who you hope is Steve on the other end of the phone. Your mom skirts away but not without one more meaningful glance back at you.

You turn and face the other way, giving away nothing. You’re sure you sound a bit breathless as you speak into the receiver, “Hello?”

A crackle on the other end.

“Hi.” A voice says nervously. There’s a moment’s pause. “It’s Steve.”

You fight off a combination of responses; a girlish squeal and a hefty sigh of relief. He called. The cord of the phone loops around your fingers automatically.

“Hey,” You say, aiming for casual. You’re not sure if it comes out that way.

A small part of you doesn’t mind if he hears your poorly tamped down excitement — an even smaller part wants him to. There’s something different about this call, knowing what you know.

“I’m real sorry it took so long to call,” Steve says, voice genuine. He clearly feels the need to explain his silence. You suppose if you hadn’t received his letter, you might still be feeling a bit confused and bummed out. “I— I’ll tell you all about why tomorrow? If you’re free?”

It’s sickeningly sweet that he still sounds so nervous.

“Of course,” you say. “It’s—” It crosses your mind to tell him, here and now, to explain that you knew exactly why he took so long to call you. You fumble and something else comes out instead. “I’m- I’m glad you called, Steve.”

“Me too.”

Your cheeks ache a bit with the force of your grin. The cord of the phone loops over your finger again and again as you sink against the wall, clutching the phone tighter and pull yourself together,

“So, what’s the plan?”

“You, me, maybe head over to Indianapolis and try out the new golfing game they just set up over there? That sound… good to you?”

It sounds very good to you. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever played golf.” You admit.

A little worry piques up about making a fool of yourself, then settles quickly. Steve wouldn’t make fun of you. If you sucked, you’re actually sure he’d find some way to spin it all romantic style.

“I’ll teach you.”

“You’ve played?”

“Never,” You can hear Steve’s smile through the phone. “But can’t be that hard right?”

—

There’s a lot of thought that goes into what to wear, evident in the holes you must be wearing in your carpet from pacing across it. Restless energy drives you, some labyrinth of nerves and anticipation knotted in your gut. 

Spread out before you on the bed lies everything you own in the colour yellow.

If she wears yellow, it’s your sign. Make your move.

Your own words— well, Gabby’s words, delivered to Steve via the Hawkins Post on how to know if he’s earned your heart like you know he so desperately wants to. You want to show him he has — in a way that seems like a goddamn sign from the universe.

The skirt is one of your nicer ones.

Along the waistline, embroidered flowers are stitched into the fabric and it swishes in just the way you love. Best of all is the dreamy buttery colour, like the colour that bleeds through at the beginning of a sunset, when the sky starts to change at dusk. It’s yellow as yellow comes — for good reason. 

You want him to see you and know.

For the sign to be so unanimously yes that he doesn’t have any space for the same doubts that tornadoed up in his head after your last date.

The type of giddiness that can only be spurred on by crushes and love alike spins up inside you, like sugar catching in a wheel and turning to cotton candy. You’re so sweet on him it’s making you feel gaga. 

You’re also terrified — because you have to tell him now. Inklings of anxiety settle in your chest, leaving little notches in your ribs that twinge a little bit. You really don’t want Steve to leave your life, not now that he’s just come into it.

A little part of you regrets not telling him on the first date, when all your revelations rolled into one big Oh My God! outside of the Hawk cinema.

You hadn’t told him though, so you need to tell him now. And then again, if you’re asking Steve to trust in the stars then… maybe, so should you. 

The afternoon sun lights through the glass of your front door and coats the entrance hall in gold. Steve, as always, is on time. You’re barely down the stairs, the clock chiming at 1 o’clock, when a familiar toot! sounds from out front. Your fingers stress with the fabric of your skirt, smoothing it down for the nth time. 

Here goes… everything. 

You open the door to step you and you startle in surprise to find there’s already someone on the doorstep. 

The door snicks shut behind you, bumping your forward an inch, and the warmth of the afternoon sweeps across your skin.

Steve’s staring downwards, one hand adjusting his ringer t-shirt nervously and the other holding together a fresh bouquet of flowers- sunflowers.

He got you sunflowers. 

Yellow, yellow, yellow. There seems to be a theme to your love. 

His head shoots up at the sound of your entrance, his eyes snagging on your sunny-coloured skirt which shifts in the wind. You swear you can hear his breath hitch as he takes in the colour, a smile blooming wide across his face.

Remembering his manners, Steve clears his throat and tears his eyes off your skirt but it’s too late — the buttery yellow has done its job and he knows. 

His grin has turned brazen and wild. Confidence rolls his shoulder back a bit and his chest puffs out. He looks so handsome it makes you hopelessly nervous. 

“These are…” Steve holds the flowers out but his words trail off. His eyes back on the ground as he thinks, hard, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

In a second, he seems to come to a decision because he’s stepping closer to you, so close that if you both leaned in a couple more inches, your nose would brush his chin. He holds the sunflowers purposefully out the way, mindful of crushing them. 

He smells very nice, you realise. The scent of his cologne inspires a flustering reaction; you’re sure there must be cartoon hearts swimming above your head. You reign in your thoughts before they get away from you.

“Look, I messed up our last kiss and honestly, until recently I didn’t even know that was something I was even capable of doing.” Steve huffs a laugh, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

His eyes screw shut for just a moment, gathering his thoughts, or perhaps his courage. Maybe both. 

“But, I am. I’m- I feel like a fool around you and I miss these little cues because I’m trying to think of the right thing to say or— or because I can’t stop looking at you. And it’s because I like you. I really like you.” 

He inhales a shuddering breath. The sun beams make his eyes two shades lighter. 

“I’ve been confused and lost in love once before and it means that some days I’m not even sure what that feeling even is, what I’m looking for, but… I think it may feel a lot like you.” 

There is it, presented forward to you. His heart on his sleeve, bleeding for you. 

His affections are so transparent it makes you ache for him more. Sunlight seems to fill your chest, burning in its ardor and the tenderness soon follows.

You feel the fondness you have for him, just a seedling of new love, taking root deep in your heart. A part of you suspects it may have snuck in there far earlier, nestling in sometime between your longing glancing and shared smiles. 

“And now, I really, really want to kiss you.” Steve says, the words so earnest they scrape on the way up his throat.

His brown eyes are searching your face as his free hand rises, hesitating for only a moment before it finds a home curled along your jaw. “And get a chance to get it right this time.” 

“Steve,” you whisper. His name makes your mouth tender like no other word can. “Kiss me.” 

His fingers slide along your jaw and touch the edges of your hair as he inches nearer and your heart lurches up your throat in anticipation. His lips are quivering ever so slightly, you notice. 

And then his lips are on yours. 

He kisses your mouth with all the adoration of a familiar long-time lover, deep and longing. Pushing up on your toes, your hands grasp at his shirt, the fabric twisting between your fingers as you pull him closer. It’s… lovely.

Your heart aches and soars, beating as one with him as his kiss sets a fire aflame within you. You are officially and utterly enraptured by Steve Harrington and all he is, but especially his kisses. You already miss the last of his lips when Steve breaks the kiss. 

He doesn’t move back, staying close, and the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He’s sporting a grin that rivals the day in sunshine. 

“You wore yellow,” He says, voice doused in awe. 

Oh. That’s right. His words are a swift kick to reality. You pull back just a bit, hands flattening out on his chest, just so you can see his face properly because you know if you’re too close, you might fall victim to his brown eyes. 

“About that…” 

Steve blinks and takes a second to realise that he must have spoken aloud. He chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in the noise, and rushes to explain. “That was— that must’ve sounded-” 

“I’m Gabby.” You interrupt before he can get carried away. 

Steve frowns, confusion creasing between his brows. “What? I thought your name was—” 

“No!” You jump in again, biting down your smile at his adorable misunderstanding. “I-I mean I write as Gabby. From the Hawkins Post.” 

Steve blinks at you again. His face blanches and then, it’s like watching fruit ripen, the apples of his cheek getting pinker and pinker with every passing second.

He splutters, a myriad of emotions overtaking his features; surprise, bewilderment, embarrassment. He jumps from one to the other in an instant.

“You- you’re— and you?”

There’s not really a proper sentence coming from Steve, just bucket loads of endearing and unneeded embarrassment radiating off him, so warm you can nearly feel it. Steve sputters for another second before he finally manages to spit out a sentence. 

“The whole time?” 

You have the decency to look sheepish when you nod. Steve steps back for a moment and you try to ignore the spike of fear it invokes in you — he buries his face in his hands, squishing the flowers against his hair, and releases a pitiful sounding groan into his palms. After a moment, he drags his hands down his face and peeks up at you. 

“The whole time?” Steve asks again, in a meek whisper.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out, guilt beginning to overflow. Oh god, you’ve deceived him and he hates you—

“No, no, no,” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, which then cards through his hair. He’s still looking a bit frazzled but his eyes finally focus back on you.

“It’s not— Oh, man, I can’t believe it was you. No wonder the advice worked so well! This is- this is a new kind of embarrassing—” 

Steve groans again, though his smile is starting to return. “I can’t believe you still went out with me once you figured it out. God, I knew that writing in was a bit pathetic, it’s gotta be like a—” He holds his hand out flat, hovering at chest height. “Top ten loser move of all time and you still—.” 

“No, it’s not!” You insist, stepping forward to close the gap between you. You shake your head, eager to convince him of how it had seemed from your side; a sweet love letter from someone who cared enough to try to get things right.

“It was sweet and honest. Before I even knew it was you, reading that first letter, I… I wanted it to be you.” You admit, a bit bashfully. 

Steve takes a moment to look at you, eyes dancing down to look at your yellow skirt which swishes as another breeze passes by. Warm afternoon air cocooning around you, you look the picture of devastatingly pretty, dolled up for a date with him. You’ve seen this dorky and little bit pathetic side of him, with his desperate search for advice and missed kisses and yet… you’re still here. 

“You did? You mean that? You don’t think it was… weird?” 

You shake your head, a few strands of hair escaping from behind your ear. Steve thinks about tucking them back for you. He doesn’t feel brave enough yet.

“I mean that. I— it was crazy when I figured it out and I sort of thought it was just wishful thinking but, definitely not weird.” 

You hold your hand up, fingers nearly pinched together with only a few centimetres between them. You squint, smile overtaking your lips before you can stop it. “Was just a little bit funny, though.” 

Steve laughs, head tipping forward to hide his rosy cheeks. He peers back up at you through his lashes, a new twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” 

“I didn’t plan it!” You splutter out, defending yourself. “It was- it was just a freaky coincidence.” 

“A freaky coincidence?” Steve’s brows hike up an inch. His smile turns into a smirk and he rocks up on the balls of his feet, then steps back in closer to you. “Mmhm. Totally believe you.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you do.” 

“Weren’t you the one who told me to trust in the stars? You should take your own advice, really.” 

He leans in so close that you think he’s about to kiss you. He doesn’t— just hovers an inch from your lips. 

“I’ve found it works astoundingly well.” He says, voice husky with how low it is.

You shiver a bit, delight zinging up your spine and try your best to not to smile too much because, well — as you find, it’s awfully hard to kiss someone properly when you’re cheesing out, grinning too wide. 

Good thing, neither you or Steve seem to mind very much.

#dear god #i hope this doesn’t crash in burn #it’s been…. how many months since i posted an x reader fic #5 MONTHS!!!! #GOD IM SORRY #i had this idea…. november last year #took me so fucking long #anyways… if u liked nine facts…. maybe u like this? #except no enemies :( #ruby writes steve #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff

[keepthebeanscool]

i believe in mariah rose faith as ethan green

#lexthan #i am so gay. in case you didn’t know. #lex foster #ethan green #black friday #her tattoos are california poppies for california and a burning skull as a very subtle reference to ethan doesn’t die #hatchetfield #starkid #mariah!ethan #run achilles #jaspers art

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, posting to Tiktok: Don’t be fucking rude. I see you guys saying that Steve fell in love with me first

Eddie: That’s not true.

Eddie: I saw this fucker on his first day of ninth grade after not seeing him for an entire year. He grew six inches and learned how to fix his hair, and I walked face first into a locker. I fell first.

Steve, snorting: You walked into a locker? Dork.

Eddie: Yeah, sure did. Gareth, confirm it.

Gareth: I wasn’t there!

#Eddie did not endure a horribly embarrassing crush for five years just to be told Steve liked him first #Steve doesn’t remember Eddie walking into a locker but it’s burned into Eddie’s mind because it’s the first time he’s ever heard Steve laugh #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[cosmic-seer]

POV your trainer is getting flustered for the umpteenth time

(Instigated by this post.)

#HERE IT IS FOLKS #they’re doing an early morning run #poking fun at sleep deprivation earns some interesting implications #but its still slow burn #my hand was forced #I was violently compelled to do this #sweet and sour dipplins #could be read as s&sd but doesn’t have to be :)) #sweet and sour dipplins art #dipplinshipping #juliana pokemon #kieran pokemon #juliana x kieran pokemon #kieran x juliana #cosmic draws #cosmic animates #@dipplinduo

[quiddie]

Actual footage of Suvi and the fox attempting to cook in her tower’s surprise kitchen

#worlds beyond number #the wizard the witch and the wild one #there’s just no way that Suvi can cook #and it’s not like her adoptive father didn’t try #frankly the fox has better culinary instincts #he just doesn’t have thumbs #anyway they’re just heartbeats away from burning down the kitchen at all times #and Eursulon & Ame are just Statler & Woldorfing it up #wwwo 19 #(but I do believe that Suvi pulls an *excellent* shot of espresso)

[sugar-tooth]

flustered JFK >>>>

#he’s not very good at this #clone high #clone high reboot #joanfk #clone high jfk #clone high joan #chew on this while I cook up a comic tehe #I am fully convinced he doesn’t know how to handle actual feelings for someone #and it’s really funny #I really wish we got more slow burn in the new season so we could see them be awkward and cute and AUGHHH #missed opportunity #so FINE. I’ll feed MYSELF.

[fantasykiri5]

They’re so bad(boys)!!

#THEY SWITCHED TO THE SKINS TO RECORD TODAY IM GONNA LOOSE IT #anyways here’s your pathetic Minecraft bootleg greasers #featuring mullet Jim. he looks good with it #also featuring the background of their burning pad (boys) #my art #limited life #limited life fanart #traffic life smp #life smp fanart #Grian #Grian fanart #joel smallishbeans #Joel smallishbeans fanart #jimmy solidarity #jimmy solidarity fanart #the bad boys #bad boys #they’re so bad guys please believe them c’mon they’re bad I prommy #dude joel doesn’t look so green drawn on his own but the second you put him next to anybody else he looks like a fucking grape #also the booby game on this Jim I’ve just drawn is unmatched. I’m very proud of that.

[justoneday-namjoonii]

It burns, doesn’t it? [Pt.20]

Genre/au: Mafia!au, Mature, Fluff, Angst. Violence. Warning/trigger warning: graphic imagery, gang activity, gun usage, mature subject matter, mild drug usage, murder, suggestive language, lots of language, brief crude/unnerving behavior, mentions of blood, toxic/abusive themes, humiliation, gas-lighting(?), cheating is a subject of debate, brief non-explicit s*x, betrayal, lies. Don’t like don’t read please💗

Members: Bts Feat. Got7, Lisa

→ Pairing: Jungkook x reader x ?

→Summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have killed you long time ago. After pain, the betrayal and lies, you’ve survived somehow—you’re apart of a family now, but there’s no love here.

word count: 10k +

author’s note: I hope you enjoy, it’s been a while 🫶 please see m.list for previous parts💗 will edit later😪

Your world has been flipped upside down and inside out.

You’re not the same person you were two years ago. You’re not where you thought you’d be or with who you thought you’d be with. By now, you would have been on the path to graduate in the fall of this year. That’s not happening anytime soon, maybe never. Not since you’ve joined this madness for your own survival, there’s no other way out.

You’ve been outside in the grass for an hour, walking in the cold, just begging for the sun to beat down on you for a little bit. Today was supposed to be your first hand-to-hand combat lesson from Jimin. Your stomach twisted in anxiety all morning. The last encounter you had with him was less than pleasant.

Oddly, he never showed up. Assuming he forgot, you went outside and to do some conditioning on your own. You did small exercises to loosen up and get your blood pumping. It’s nice to have some time to yourself. You’ve spent so much of your time with Yoongi these days. You’ve spent more time with him then you have with Jungkook. Some days he’d give you lengthy lessons on hierarchy, laws and the systems they use to operate the business. Other days he’d fall asleep from the pain medication and you’d quietly leave the room to go make lunch. No one seems to be home much anymore, it’s usually just you and Yoongi, much to Jungkook’s disdain. He’s out with Namjoon a lot, sometimes for two days at a time you don’t see him.

You creep downstairs after a shower and check the office. He’s not in there so you go to his bedroom but you’re met with a closed door, you knock.

“Come in,”

You walk into the room to see him sitting on the bed, removing the wrap on his abdomen and exposing the bullet wound. Your stomach turns at the sight. You fidget with your fingers and stare at the blood littering the bandage, it takes you back to a bad place.

“What is it?” He lays back, trying to catch his breath. You stand near the door, clenching your hands.

He’s always intimidated you but you can’t say you fear him anymore.

Six months ago, if someone told you you’d be with him almost everyday, you’d say they were crazy. Yet, here you are. He’s assumed this mentor-teacher role that surprisingly fits him. Even after spending all this time with him, you struggle to speak to him sometimes.

“Is there anyway for me to get a phone?” You mumble out your request. “I don’t have one anymore so I need to have some way to communicate with- all of you,”

“Not right now, I’ll make sure you get one when we’re in a stable environment, stay with one of us until then,” You try to hide your disappointment with a small nod. Yoongi steps into his bathroom briefly and when he comes out, you are standing in the same spot. He looks up at you.

“Did you need something else?” That’s the nice version of, ‘why are you still standing there?’

“No but,” You mentally cringe, a bit flustered, “do you need help with changing that?” You point to his side.

"Sure,” He breathes a sigh of relief, if he has to do it one more time he might just scream. He lays back on his pillow and waits.

“I’ll wash my hands first,” You scurry to the bathroom and wash with warm soapy water.

More than anyone, Yoongi has been the most consistent. The same person you hated for getting you into this slowly became the person making it easier to be here. You’ve been through so much with him and because of him—the dynamic is weird. He watches your every move, from the way you discard the old bandage to the clumsy way you unravel new goss.

“Ah,” He winces and you freeze.

“Sorry,” You pause all ministrations, “I’m just trying to make sure it’s clean before-“

“You’re doing fine, I’m just sore,” He offers a bit of praise and you smile, hands feeling less shaky. With a cloth, you clean around the stitching with antiseptic, careful not to press too firmly. You discard the cloth and start wrapping with a clean bandage.

Being so close to the damage makes your stomach queasy. All that you’ve seen and gone through is heavy on your mind. You can’t help but feel partly responsible for this, for Jin’s choices. Yoongi’s chest rises and falls, causing your eyes to drift towards his chest and land on a red ink peaking over his shoulder. Since when did he have a tattoo?

You look to him for approval. “Is that okay?”

He massages his temples with a nod, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Why?”

“Jin shot you…He could have killed you,”

“What he did to me was his choice, it has nothing to do with you. He’s betrayed me before, knowing him comes with the chance of getting stabbed in the back—you didn’t know?” 

“No,” You nod sadly, “yes? I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to admit it.”

“You never know with him. One minute you can trust him with your life,” He tugs a shirt on and moves to the closet to gather some things, “the next you’re running from him to save your life, that’s who he is.”

“I thought that after my fathers death, we would become close,” You bite your lip, “we’re farther apart now than we’ve ever been,”

“That’s hard to believe, given he acted as if you didn’t exist.”

“He never said anything about a sister, even after our dad was killed?”

“He kept any family he had away from us. Because of that, there was never much Namjoon could do to threaten him—until you. Deep down inside, it almost seemed like he loved you.”

You’ve started to wonder if Yoongi even knew what it meant to love someone. He doesn’t seem like Jungkook or Jimin, happy to have a warm body or a listening ear. Yet, there is something symbiotic about the relationship he has with the group, especially with Jin. He seems to depend on them, even if he doesn’t say it or show it.

“I’m sorry,” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, “I don’t know if I ever told you that, but I am.”

“Thank you,” Your eyes reluctantly meet his, “you did what you had to do though, I can’t imagine what I would have done in your position,”

He doesn’t respond. The truth is, he wants to survive, he wants what he has to survive, if that means selliing someone to do so, so be it. they’re all like that. If it means sabotaging each other, they’ll do that too.

“Is the relationship with your father as complicated as mine was? I didn’t even know what he did until he died…”

“You could say that, he tried to kill me as a kid so that should give you an idea of what he was like. He called it training but I know he wanted to see if I would survive. He abused my mother and anyone close to him, he was a heartless bastard—I have a ton of reasons to hate him and I did at one point.”

You swallow, the reality of who you’re speaking to sets in. “You don’t anymore?”

“No, not so much anymore. He’s dead,” He sniffs, wiping at his nose, nervous tick, “I killed him.”

Of course he killed him.

“Oh…I’m sorry, I mean I know he was awful to you and your mother but,” You place a hand over his in sympathy, “I’m sure that was painful, I know it was when I lost mine. He died right in front of me, I was sick, hysterical—I never felt pain like that before.”

This is deja vu.

Years ago, he recalls having a conversation very similar to this with your brother. He can’t stop staring at you, his doe eyes linger on you longer than they ever have.

“What?” You look around.

He breaks out of his daze when you bring attention to him staring at you.

“I need to take this call,” He stands up and escorts you out, “we’ll talk later, alright?”

You try to hide your disappointment, “Okay,”

You felt like you were just getting somewhere with him. Gone was his cold leader façade, he looked human.

He looked like you.

It was so late when he got home, he was afraid you’d already gone to sleep. He trudged up the steep stairs and straight to your bedroom. He opened the door softly and dropped his bag in the corner. To his dismay, you weren’t in the bedroom at all.

“Y/n?” He looked around upstairs but you were nowhere to be seen. Then it hit him, you’re probably where you’ve been spending most of your time, Yoongi’s office. He begrudgingly marches down the stairs to go get you, it’s his turn to spend time with you.

Without knocking, he peeks into the office and sure enough, you’re asleep with a pen in your hand and a paper under your face. He stops for a moment to admire how peaceful you look and smiles to himself. 

He could come home to this for the rest of his life.

When you hear the door creek, you sleepily look up and see Jungkook in the doorway. 

“Hey,” You smile, dropping your pen.

“Hey,” He gently smooths a hand through his freshly cut hair, “I’m sorry it’s late, things got backed up and we had to wait.”

“It’s fine,” You visually take in how tired he looks and quickly get up to hug some of his stress away. You hum against his chest.

“I missed you,” He kisses your temple.

When you look up, your heart skips a beat and a cheeky grin forms on your face. “I missed you too,”

“How did your training go?”

“Fine,” He pushes your hair out of your face, eyebrows scrunching.

“Did Jimin teach you?”

“Well…no, I haven’t seen him today, so I just trained myself I guess,”

“Hm,” He squints, touching the abrasion on your skin until you wince, “how’d you get this?”

You shake his hand off and distract him, cupping his face and kissing him. He exhales against your lips and his mouth goes slack. He’s eager but not deliberate at all—he loves to be kissed like he’s about to die.

When you finally separate, he looks at you amused. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

You sigh, hoping he’ll cave in with your persuading, “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I need to shower first,” He thumbs the back of your hand, “do you want to join me?”

“I already showered,” You turn him down, you’re not in the mood to feel the hot water turn cold and for your fingers to start wrinkling up.

“Wait up for me then, so you can finish what you started.”

During his shower, he thinks of what he wants most right now. He wants you, he always does. In his arms and close to his heart, bringing him back to earth. The fragrance of the soap and the warm steam enters your nostrils when the bathroom door opens. In just a few moments, he’s all over you with damp hair and clumsy movements.

“Ah,” he breathes against your ear, “It’s my mom’s birthday today,” He mumbles, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy, a very Jungkook thing to do, “I wanted to call her but-…I couldn’t,”

You hum in acknowledgment, eyes glazing over, body tingling and heart racing when he uses his thumb to coerce you into giving in.

“Ah…there you go—let me know how it feels,” He snickers at your scrunched up facial expression. He suddenly stops his ministrations to knead the soft flesh of your thighs, stretching you a little further than you were prepared for, “I’m a pleaser y’know, I like the guidance,” You look up with pleading eyes, you can’t bring yourself to do it. It’s bad enough that the walls are thin and everyone is home—you are not bringing anymore attention to yourself.

”Talk to me,” he exasperates further, “you’d think I was choking you, don’t hold your breath,” He smirks, hand leaving your thigh to cup your face, “I don’t want you passing out on me.”

”Jungkook,” You gasp for air, “I don’t want anyone to hear,”

You try to hide from his piercing gaze but you have nowhere to turn. Without a word, he leans down to kiss you but you don’t offer much movement back. It could be the overstimulation of it all but you keep spacing out. He’s frustrated. He becomes increasingly heavy-handed, relentless, as if to force your presence to remain attentive to his.

It hurts a little, the scars on your thighs are sore under his fingers. You don’t have the will to tell him to stop. He already handles you like you’re glass, you don’t want him to feel that way right now, you don’t know how you want him to feel or yourself.

He breaks the kiss and continues like he didn’t just sophisticate you, “I ha- haven’t talked to my mother in almost a year, I don’t know if I can hear her voice and not cry,”

“I’m- I’m sure she wants to hear from you,” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck for purchase.

“I don’t think so,” He chuckles, “she’s-…It doesn’t matter, I have you, you’re all I need,” His face is like a furnace when he presses his forehead to yours, his necklace tickling your chin, “I love you, I love you,”

When he says things like this, you’re reminded of how vulnerable he can be. For some reason, you feel a tinge of guilt.

A whimper spills from his lips and you feel his whole body go rigid. Then there’s a loud knock on the door. You cringe and Jungkook practically cries out in annoyance, face sinking into the crook of your neck.

“Ignore it, they’ll leave,” he mutters between kisses on your neck, “shh, just focus on me.” he tries to chase the fading feeling as it grows more distant.

There’s another knock on the door, this time louder and harder.

“Put some pants on and come out for the damn meeting!” Taehyung’s deep voice thunders and your stomach drops.

“Fuck off!” Jungkook lets out a sound of frustration, “I’m not going to another damn meeting, it’s the middle of the night,” He yells back and promptly leans back down to kiss you, maybe to reignite what is threatening to flee, but Taehyung interrupts again.

“You don’t have a choice, we’re talking about you,” Tae reminds him, “shit is always about you these days.”

“Kook,” your brows furrow in discomfort when his grip tightens on your thighs and your body shys away from his touch, “that h- hurts,”

“I’ll just pick the lock if you don’t come out, how would you like that?”

That did it.

With a half apology, he jumps out of the bed and rushes to get his clothes. The door opens and slams shut behind him, leaving you abandoned. You can’t make out what he’s saying but you know he’s pissed.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“I knew that would get you out,” Taehyung laughs, taking note of Jungkook’s wet fringe and visibly tensed muscles, he’s visibly winded, “let’s go.”

“I’ve been out all day, I’m not going to another meeting in the middle of the fucking night, why do I need to be there? What is there to talk about? You guys could have talked to me earlier,”

“Namjoon wants to discuss relocating and Junghyun. That prick is your real brother, isn’t he? You should go see about him, it’s your fault we have to deal with him anyway.”

They both look back and see Jimin who has somehow found time to get silver streaks put in his hair. His pretty eyes look glazed over as he scans Jungkook up and down. His eyes roll and he burns with envy—Jungkook goes back into that room with you. Every night.

Despite being upset with you, he still can’t deny your appeal—it’s hard to ignore you.

“He’s publicly calling for your arrest,” Hoseok happens to be on his way downstairs and joins the conversation, “personally, I think you could use some jail time, you’ve caused a lot of problems for us.”

Jungkook tries to open the door to go back to you but Taehyung threatens something worse. He doesn’t get the chance to let you know why he’s gone and the door is left slightly open.

So you lay there, staring at the door and trying to steady your breathing. Anxiety builds in your chest, how can you get to the door like this? You grimace, Jungkook should have made sure the door was closed.

Your heart sinks when you see the footsteps pass the door—then slowly come back.

The door creaks and light enters the dark cozy room, followed by the door shutting.

It’s Jimin.

“Hi,”

You clutch the bedsheets—what does he want?

“I want to talk to you about what I said the other day,” He slowly paces around the dark room, “I said you were conniving, a back stabbing bitch and a fucking liar like your brother…I’m sorry,” He sits on the edge of the bed, a longing expression on his face, “I was just angry,”

You swallow, knuckles white from how hard your gripping the sheets. He’s apologizing but your mind is still stuck on, ‘back stabbing bitch.’

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” He traps you between his arms, one arm on each side of you, “I thought about it and I realized that you- You didn’t do this, he did. He ruined you,” Tears begin to well in his eyes and you look at him wide eyed, “you’re not the same girl I know when you’re with him.”

You try to sit up, but he’s too close, the cover could easily get pulled under his weight.

This is scary—he’s a staring into your soul, tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. It’s hard to tell whether this is guilt, an attempt to gain pity, or a mental breakdown—knowing him, it could be all three. “I’m so sorry, Y/n,”

“It- it’s okay…” You look away, too nervous to say anything else.

“Really? You forgive me?” He smiles, tears dissipating just as soon as they appeared.

You put on a convincing face, “Yes...”

“Even if you say that…I’m still being punished,” He leans into you, face just centimeters from your own, “you’re my punishment.”

“Jimin,” You plead, horror in your eyes, “What do you want from me?…”

“I wanted to see you,” He traces a finger from your brow to your ear, “I can have anyone I want, but not you. Why does it have to be you that I can’t have? Jungkook had to fall for you,” He glances down at your pouting lips, “But to know I can’t have you….it makes me want you even more.”

“Jungkook will be upset if he finds out you we’re here,” You whisper, fearing for his safety and yours.

“He doesn’t have to know I was here, he doesn’t have to know anything about us,”

He notices you clutch the sheets really hard, and your thighs squeeze together. “What’s the matter?” He glances at the nightstand and gathers clues to what was happening in here moments ago.

“Oh…that must be frustrating, he just left you like this,” He smirks, “he hasn’t changed, he uses you just like he used Jiyoon,”

“No, he doesn’t,” You frown, trying to push yourself back into the headboard.

“He does, baby,” He coos, condescension in his tone.

“He’s not like that anymore,” You shake your head, tears pricking at your eyes.

He rubs your thigh over the blanket, “I remember having you at arms reach at one point, you have no idea how hard it was to see you every night, laying in that bed all alone…especially those nights you’d ask me to stay with you and you let me hold you. I‘d have to visit a few of my old friends just to get my mind off of you, cold showers don’t work for me.”

You always ignored Jimin’s red flags, it was easy when you were alone. Were you manipulating him or was he manipulating you? It could be both. But Jimin comes with years of experience, he has seen and done more than you ever have. Some might label him as a whore and they wouldn’t be so far off from the truth. A few hours in the red district and he can quickly make a name for himself.

“But even though I’m attracted to you, I don’t view you as an object, you’re a human being with your own life,” He grabs your wrists to pull you up and hug you. Jungkook’s shirt is all you have on and you shudder at the closeness. But you appease him by hugging him back. You hold him tight, as if you were hugging him on one of those terrible nights. He hums over your shoulder, arms so snug around your waist.

“Jimin,” You sniffle, fighting back tears of your own now, “please go…”

“If I told you I loved you, would you tell him?”

Your mouth gapes in surprise.

“I-…I don’t know.”

“I knew it,” He sneers, “you don’t care about me enough to say that you love me.”

“I do care about you,” Your body feels like it’s numb when he finally lets you go. “I don’t mean to hurt you, I’m just- I’m confused…I’m with Jungkook, I suppose I love you too but not in the same way-“

“You made me fall for you, and now you don’t want me…Your so fucking self absorbed, you can’t even see it.“

You fall silent. Nothing you say can change how he feels. You’ve opened a wound, one that he has never been able to heal.

“It’s fine,” He coos, “if this is all I can get from you, I’ll take it, for now.” He tilts your jaw up by your chin and kisses your neck, purposefully leaving a damp spot to make you squirm against him. Then he leaves the room with a lingering gaze on you.

You lean over on your side and fall apart. You start start to cry into the bedsheets and wish this would all end. Why is this happening? You flee the bedroom and head for the only place you know no one will look for you.

*

“I’m leaving late tomorrow night, we decided that I should be the first to relocate,”

Yoongi reminds Hoseok who won’t be joining him to his dismay. The leaders need to distance themselves, being in close quarters for too long is never good.

He shuts the door with an exhale.

“Come out,”

You open the bathroom door and gasp at the sight of the gun. He lowers it as soon as he sees that it’s you.

“I’m sorry! I’ll leave,” You rub the tears from your eyes, only making them look more irritated, “I just-…I knew no one would look for me here.”

“Wait,” He puts his gun away with a sigh, “did something happened? You look like you’ve been crying,” He scans you up and down for injury as you keep your hands on your face to cover your eyes.

“Did someone hurt you?” He questions firmly and you shake your head, “you can tell me.”

“No…” You mumble and he comes down from high alert.

You stand there, tears now rolling down your cheeks. This is not a new sight to Yoongi, panic attacks and breakdowns are concepts he knows well. Whatever or whoever caused this must have made you feel unsafe, that’s the only explanation he can gather.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“He- he went to a meeting,” You sniffle, “you weren’t with them?”

“No.”

“Oh,”

He looks you over, debating whether he should inquire more. When he looks at you, he wishes he’d think of Geongmin or Rose, but he doesn’t. He can’t seem to figure it out with you. You’re not Jin but he feels that same sense of familiarity as if you were.

What am I thinking?

You start to breathe at a concerning pace.

“You’re gonna pass out if you can’t stop hyperventilating like that,” He stands in front of you to make sure you don’t collapse, “take a deep breath,” He breathes in and out, trying to get you to do the same, “if you aren’t hurt then what happened?”

“I don’t want Jungkook to see me,” You breathe in and exhale shakily.

That doesn’t explain what happened, you know that.

“If the meeting is over I’m sure he’s looking for you.”

“I know, I’ll go, I just need a minute.”

There’s a knock on the door and then you hear Namjoon’s voice.

Yoongi looks at you, then to the door, then back to you.

He waits for him to walk away from the door before whispering to you, “go back to your room, you’ll create more problems for yourself if you come to me like this, you know that.”

“But-“

“Go, we’ll talk tomorrow,” He takes your hand briefly, “I promise.”

He says that for your sake and slips out, door shutting abruptly behind him. It didn’t feel good to hear him say that. You want to be with Jungkook but there’s an unexplained uncertainty that creeps up. You scurry back to the room and catch Namjoon’s eye on the way upstairs. When you retreat back into the bedroom, he’s there waiting.

Jungkook sits in the chair in the corner of the room, no smile detected.

“Where have you been?”

“You left the door open,” You evade the question with a harsh reply, “don’t act concerned about where I’ve been when you left me in here half naked.”

“Shit,” He rubs the back of his neck, instantly feeling regret, “I’m sorry, they were rushing me and Taehyung was going to open the door if I didn’t do something-“

“Anything could have happened.“

His eyes widen. “Did something happen?”

“No, but-“

“Why did you leave the room then? It would have been safer for you to stay in here and close the door. But you left, why?” He stands up and slowly walks you down until your back hits the wall, “if nothing happened then you shouldn’t have a problem telling me.” You glare up at him as he towers above you, so close.

You saw this coming a mile away. The interrogation, the trust fading into the abyss. You turn your head, refusing to answer.

“Y/n,” He backs away, “you’ve been crying,” He cups the side of your face, not knowing that was the second time you’ve heard that tonight. “What’s going on?“

“I just needed some fresh air,” You brush his hand off of your face, “that’s all,”

“Fresh air, you leave the house without saying anything for some goddamn fresh air,”

“I don’t want to be stuck in here all the time, why do you have a problem with that?”

His expression darkens, you don’t know what’s going through his mind—let alone your own.

“We’re in a sketchy town in the middle of nowhere, that’s why.”

“You just want to control me,” You throw a jab.

“Don’t act like you need someone to control you then,” He lowers his gaze, “I protect you, whether you think it’s controlling or not, I don’t care.”

You feel your blood pressure rise.

“I thought you wanted me to join the group and work with you, why are you acting like I can’t do anything without you? I may not know as much as you but I’m not stupid, I know how to look out for myself.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” He tries to get closer but you press your back further into the wall, “I just worry about you,”

“If things didn’t happen the way they did, I don’t think you would have chosen me,” You blurt that out with no real concern for the ramifications, “you don’t want someone like me.”

“What? Why the fu k would you even say that?” He pauses to process what you said, “I love you, it doesn’t matter if we would have met in this life or another, you’re still the person that I love.”

“But I don’t know what love is, I used to but not anymore,” You mutter, “and I don’t think it’s what we have.”

He looks at you as if you were his worst fear in the flesh.

“What’re you saying? How do you not know what it is but say it’s not what we have?”

Every word out of his mouth feels like a gag being shoved down your throat. You want to explain further but even you don’t know what you’re saying.

“Say something, Y/n. You can’t say something like that and then go silent,”

“I don’t know why I thought I could do this, I’ve been trying but it’s not working, I can’t be a part of this. I hate having to put on an act... I’m trying to be brave and strong but I’m not, I’m not like you.”

“Baby,” He sighs, “is that why you’re upset? You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. This is a lot, being a apart of this group isn’t easy-“

“That’s not it! It’s just the group, I just-…I’m not supposed to be here, I want to go home,”

He remains calm, “You are home, you’re with me.”

“No, my real home, with my family.”

You know your words hit him like a dagger to his heart. But you can’t keep pretending anymore, he deserves your truth.

“Today, I wrote a letter so that I could tell my aunt, everything that’s happened to me, she may never get to read it but I needed to get it off my chest,” You’re a bit embarrassed to admit it, “I don’t know when I’ll see her again but I know she’ll have questions, I don’t know what she’ll think if she finds out about you.“

“We’re in this for life. So was your dad and your brother, she‘ll have to accept it, it’s a big part of who you are now. Why are you all of a sudden worried about what she thinks?”

“I just am, ok?” You bite the inside of your lip,“god, I don’t know who I am anymore,” You rub your eyes to clear away any stray tears, “I’m so lost, I feel lost and confused, and I’m not happy, Jungkook,”

“What does that have to do with how you feel about me? You just suddenly don’t know how you feel about me?” His brows knit together after promptly dismissing your confession. He may as well have just said he doesn’t give a damn about your identity crisis. “If you don’t want to be an active member and train, I’ll talk to them-“

“No, I never said-“ You pause, “Are you even listening to me? I don’t feel like myself, that’s what I’m trying to tell you- Just forget I said anything, I’m sorry I even brought it up.” You storm past him to shut the light off and crawl back into bed.

“Hey,” The bed dips behind you and he lets out a deep sigh, “listen.”

To his surprise, you actually look back at him.

“You have to decide,” He plants a delicate kiss on your forehead. “think about who got you through this shit in the first place, think of where you’d be if it weren’t for me.”

Silence pangs throughout the room, giving you ample time to think about what he just said. He eventually sinks down behind you but doesn’t touch you. You got your answer, and it doesn’t feel very good. There’s no epiphany or moment of clarity, you don’t feel grateful, you don’t feel anything. Nothing.

There are defining moments in the lives of every mafia member. Everyone has a unique story that shaped them. Jimin’s story is not tragic like Jungkook’s or privileged like Namjoon’s, his life is more along the lines of a tale of the bad outweighing the good.

Before finding a permanent home with Namjoon, he had a home on the streets. His story began in grade school. He moved from his parent's home in the countryside to an all-boys school in the city. The same school Namjoon and Taehyung attended. He was 10. For a period in his life, he questioned his parent's love for him. Why send him to a city he knew nothing about with no family within reasonable travel distance? He concluded that they didn’t want him.

The last time he saw his parents was at his high school graduation. He arrived in the art teacher's car, not the most appropriate mode of transportation. No one ever knew why she took such a liking to him. He was sure no one saw the glances that were a little too long for the teacher to be on a student. Or the hugs that were a little too tight for a teacher and student. There were nights he would sneak out of the dorm to explore the city with a few bad friends. Those “friends” would use him. They would make him do things that they couldn’t do without a pretty face like his. He’d crawl back into the dorm, drunk and sometimes bruised. He never said what he did those nights, but it was clear it took a toll on him at the tender age of 16.

Namjoon observed how people responded to Jimin. He did that to everyone, every person has a niche. Even strangers would stop to give him a second glance. Older women especially loved him, something about him made them feel alive. The boy was born to be admired. It was at that moment that he realized how special Jimin was.

“My little brothers, graduating!” Namjoon welcomed them into the limousine with a beaming grin, “and just one more to go, you’ll be joining them soon, Jungkook.” He rubs the youngest shoulder.

“Maybe,” Jungkook shrugs, “graduating isn’t that important to me-“

“You might as well finish,” Hoseok rolls a joint with skill and lights it just as skillfully, “if this mafia gig doesn’t work you need something to fall back on,”

“He’s right, Kook,” The leader pops a bottle of champagne, giving the heavy drink his glass first, “make your mama proud one last time before you sell your soul to the mafia.”

It was one occasion where they all dressed up, ready to meet the dinner reservation, hit the clubs, and probably get wasted. Yoongi didn’t join but he sent gifts in the form of letters, Jin as well. Hoseok didn’t have much to do so he tagged along. At this point, his hair was long, to his shoulders, during his sleazy drug dealer phase.

Rose gave Taehyung a big hug but Geongmin was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m so proud of you guys,” Rose kisses her brother's cheek and gives Jimin a kind smile.

“No kiss for me?” Jimin pouts, leaning over to Rose with puppy dog eyes.

“Just this one time, Jimin,” She humors him with a kiss on the cheek and he giggles, “happy?”

“Very,” He flutters his lashes.

That night, they partied like there was no tomorrow. Namjoon insisted they deserved it and should indulge in a good time. Jimin managed to slip away to the strip club, where he ran into an old friend—an old girlfriend.

“Oh my god,”

Her name was Petal, that’s what she went by on stage. She was 6 years older than him and ruined their relationship fairly quickly, broke his heart and dared him to do anything about it.

“Jimin,” She scurries from the pole and over to him with a panic on her face, “what’re you doing here?”

“You look stunning,” He gives her a charming smile, “did you just start your shift? Your little costume is still on, and there are no bills in your…thong,”

“You need to go, please,” She adjusts her fuzzy pink cowgirl hat, “I can’t talk,”

“Hey, get back on the stage, beautiful!” A drunk 40-something yells from the crowd.

“Where’s your husband? I thought you two bought a house and had a few babies already, what’re you doing out here still selling yourself?”

“He left me, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, now leave! I’m trying to work,”

She struts back on the stage, wishing she could hide from the piercing gaze that lingered on her.

“Oh,” Jimin shakes his head in disbelief, “so you cheated on him throughout your entire so-called engagement, lying straight to his face, claiming I forced you into fucking me and got me beaten unconscious, just so he could leave you?”

She tries to ignore him and focus on the music, it’s painful enough to be found out, let alone have to continue working.

“Petal,” Jimin leans against the stage corner, she ignores him, “Youjin,” She shudders at her real name, “your boss is watching, we both know you can’t keep a job so don’t mess this up by ignoring a paying customer.” He suddenly pulls out a hundred dollar bill, waving it around like a treat.

She crawls over to the edge of the stage and he tucks the bill into her bra strap. “Good girl,”

That night, he got his revenge. She experienced a fraction of the humiliation she put him through.

Jimin had a rough life. He was often placed as an after thought or a secondary option by the people who used him. His identity had been thrown in a blender his entire life, he was different people for so many different people. His pain and vengeance manifested itself in self-destructive habits that slowly ate away at him. To be on the receiving end of his pain, like Youjin and so many others, was a punishment more damaging to ones mind than ones body. He loved to please at any cost, even at the cost of himself. Was it his fault?

His past weighs heavily on him.

A knock on the door interrupts the first sip of his freshly brewed black coffee.

“Dr. Jeon? It’s Agent Ban, I have a 10 o’clock with you.”

“Come in,”

She opens the office door, revealing her tall figure in a black pant-suit and heels.

“Thank you, I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me this morning,” She takes a seat and pulls out a tablet, “I know you’re very busy with everything that’s going on.”

“Of course,” He smiles, “I assume this is about my brother?”

“Not exactly,” She crosses her legs and pulls out a pen, “I am perusing a separate case that is loosely connected to that one.” ^

”Alright, then how can I help?”

“Your hospital is the most frequented for emergency medical treatment within a 10 mile radius, I wanted to ask if Jeon Jungkook was admitted with anyone.”

”From what I can remember, he had just been in a car accident and I was told he arrived with someone but that person had been checked out before I got to see him. And unfortunately, during the checkout, our systems were down so we have no record of the individual other than the fact that she was a female.”

”I see,” She writes some things down, “that’s all I need to know, thank you.”

“That’s it?” He was expecting more than that but she confirms that she’s gathered what she needs.

“For now, yes, but I’ll be in contact.”

She leaves the hospital and hops back in her car to head to her next location. The police department.

“Can I take a look at all of your current missing persons files? Those who are still missing and those who were found, if you have that available.”

“Sure,” The cop takes her to the file storage and gives her a key, “that drawer has all of the victims who were found over the past year and the bulletin board has the most recent cases that are not yet concluded.”

She takes her time going through the files. There are too many, too many girls not being taken on as priorities. By the time the cops get to them, it’s too late and the damage is done. The more she looks, the farther she feels from her victim. As she sifts through the photos, she has a moment of realization. If the girl is involved with the mafia and they want to keep her identity a secret, there’s no way her relatives would report her as a missing person.

Where could you be?

*

Morning came and the abrupt awakening set your day off in the worst way. The rain is hammering down on the house and Jungkook is waking you with a shake to your shoulder.

“Wake up, we have to go,” He looks you over, “we found a rat last night.”

You look up with squinted eyes, barely gathering what he said. “B- But…I thought,”

“There are eyes on this place so we have to leave. Get dressed,” He hands you some clothes for you go to the bathroom to get freshened up. This is happening all over again. You’re picking up and leaving the place you started to feel comfortable in.

“Wait, Jungkook,” You attempt to grab his hand but he slips away, “I need to talk to you,”

“Be downstairs in 10 minutes,”

The door slams shut and you get dressed with a thought weighing in your mind. If Jungkook doesn’t want to talk, fine. You were supposed to talk to Yoongi, you can’t leave without talking to him.

*

“Jungkook will go with me, Hoseok and Taehyung will go together,” Namjoon relays his plan to his best friend and co-leader, “Jimin should go with you, you need someone with the best combat skills, next to Jungkook of course.”

“And Y/n?” Yoongi brings up a valid question.

“What about her?”

“Where should she go?”

“Wherever Jungkook goes, it’s one a way to keep him under control,” Joon lets out a sigh, “but maybe she should go with you, you are teaching her and Jimin is training her.”

“Yeah, she should,” He agrees, “You tell the kid, I’ll talk to her.”

The kid—Namjoon giggles, he hasn’t heard that in a long time.

No one wants to deal with Jungkook’s possessiveness. That’s why Yoongi and Jungkook never got along. Jungkook was a bit too spoiled by Namjoon. He took Jungkook under his wing and treated him like he could do no wrong. Jungkook knew he had Namjoon wrapped around his finger.

It was his weakness.

*

“Where are we going?”Jungkook asks as he paces idly in the foyer, waiting for you.

“You and I are taking a trip to see a friend of mine in Japan, I think we can discuss moving half of our business over there.”

“How long?”

“Maybe three days? Could be more. We could be there for months, it depends. I like to socialize a bit before getting into the nitty gritty of business, that’s how we keep our clients.”

“Months? Y/n’s gonna give me shit when she finds out-“

“No she won’t,”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s not coming with us,”

“Why not?” Jungkook frowns.

“Yoongi has really taken her under his wing, isn’t that sweet? He’s taking her with him, it’s best for all of us.”

“How? He doesn’t know her like that-“

“If Jin decides to go after her again, the last place he’ll think to look is anywhere far from you, he’ll think she’s with you but she’ll be with Yoongi.”

“He can find out where she is, if we had a mole then there’s obviously a way he can get that information, it won’t matter.”

“Y/n isn’t coming with us, as a member, she goes where I want her to go or where Yoongi wants her to go, she wants to go with him anyway.”

“How the hell would you know that? Did you talk to her?”

“I saw her leave his room last night, he said they talked, he didn’t say about what but I can put two and two together.”

“She was with him last night?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No, there’s a lot of shit she’s not telling me,”

As if things couldn’t get any worse.

*

You hold onto the stairwell, walking slowly in hopes to not be detected. Namjoon is the first to see you, the brief eye contact was awkward. What makes it more awkward is Jungkook staring you down. It’s not the sweet, starry-eyed gaze, it’s cold.

“Is everything ok?” You walk up to Jungkook, trying to draw out a sweet expression, it doesn’t work. He stands up, brows furrowed as if you had just spouted out utter nonsense.

“I don’t know,” He looks you up and down, “you tell me.”

“What?” You look bewildered, “what do you mean?

“Have you been cheating on me? Because your stories aren’t adding up, tell me the truth,”

Your chest tightens and you ball your fist to release your sudden influx of frustration. You feel a bit embarrassed that Namjoon is watching this unfold.

“No- no,” You stutter, “why would you say that?”

He grabs your wrist and drags you into a random bedroom.

“Hey!” Ryan, the bleach-blonde buzz cut guy who came with Hoseok was in the middle of getting dressed. Jungkook spares him no mind. “You’re fucking crazy man,” He scurries out, struggling to put his shirt on in a state of shock.

“J-Jungkook, what’re you doing?” You swallow.

“You don’t make sense,” He confesses starkly, “you don’t make any fucking sense and it’s making me crazy,” He presses his temples.

You saw this coming. You wished you hadn’t.

“I used to be so sure about you, about us. I knew you were the one that I loved no matter what, you could do anything and I would forgive you, that’s how I felt just yesterday. Now, I don’t know if I can take it anymore. You don’t know what you want or who you are and you expect me to do something about it and I can’t!” He laments, “I can protect you and I can love you but I can’t fix all of your problems and that’s how you treat me, it’s not fair.”

“I never asked you to fix my problems,” You reply bitterly, “I wanted your support, you get upset when I confide in other people but when I confide in you, you don’t care,”

“Those other people don’t care about you,” He walks up to stand in front of your face, “other than you being Jin’s sister, they don’t give a shit about you, don’t you get that? Just because people accept you into something, doesn’t mean they care, they just want something from you-“

“That’s not true!” You cut him off angrily, “you don’t want them to care about me, that’s the real issue. I’m more than just your girlfriend,” Your nose burns as tears well up in your eyes, “I don’t want to just be yours, I want to be myself again,”

“You being mine, has kept you safe,” His tone sharpens, “do you know what could have happened to you if I didn’t let you stay with me?” He snorts. “You’d be a whore making money for everyone but yourself, that could have happened to you but I chose you. I fucking chose you and now…”

“Now what?” You dare.

“I’m not so sure I should have,” It pains him to admit it, “I wanted you, I wanted you so fucking bad, it killed me not to have you. Part of me was glad you came with no strings attached, no family no friends, you had nothing,” He confesses, “and I liked that about you, I didn’t want you to be someone apart from me, I wanted you to mean us,”

Jungkook is selfish.

To have you, was to love you. Was it not the same anymore? Now, you’re responding as if he has trapped you here and it feels awful.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you know how terrible that sounds to me? I loved you, all this time I stayed by your side because I thought this was love,” You breathe, “had I known you didn’t even see me as my own person and that you like that I lost my old life, I would have left you a long time ago,” You feel tears stream down your cheeks, but you’re unable to stop them from flowing, “and I’m always crying, every time we talk I end up crying,” You bite the inside of your lip.

“I was never a crier before you, I was happy, I was a good person before you,” You wipe your cheeks, anger and frustration bubbling in your chest, “my identity is gone and it’s your fault!You took it from me, you ruined everything for me!”

The emotion that has been harboring inside of you has finally come out.

“Then leave!” He shoots back. “If I’m such torture to be with then fucking leave,” He says with pain and anger in his tone, he’s hurting.

“Go fuck Jimin, fuck anyone- I don’t care anymore, I’m sure you’ve already done that. You keep lying. You lied to me just last night, you were with Yoongi and chances are you were with Jimin too, why did you lie?”

You swallow.

“If- if I would have told you the truth, you would have blown up like this, we didn’t do anything- Jimin is the one who came to me and I couldn’t stop him-“

“Stop him from what?”

“Does it matter? I can’t stop him from doing anything to me! I can’t- I can’t fight him, when he’s around I can’t do anything,”

“Bullshit,” He grits his teeth, “you made me believe he was the one who initiated all that shit, I’m starting to think that you wanted it…”

“I didn’t,” You press, “I just didn’t know what to do-“

“Stop, just stop,” He cuts you off, “I don’t believe you anymore,”

He’s beyond hurt.

All the times he’s found out that you and Jimin met behind his back, it’s laughable.

The first time he did it, you were relieved.

—

“Yah!” You were pulled back by a pair of arms wrapping around you. “Jung-” You tried to call for Jungkook but you were silenced by a hand clamping over your mouth. Now you were panicking, this can’t be happening now.

“Shh…baby, it’s just me.” He let you go. You quickly turned around to see Jimin with a small smile. He smiled at the cute face he once coaxed out of pain.

“Jimin? You scared me…” You stepped away shyly.

“I’m sorry.” He held onto your hands and tilted his head, smiling warmly.

“W-what’re you doing here?” You knitted your brows in confusion, it’s not like you weren’t happy to see him but why was he here and how did he find you?

"I just wanted to see you.“ He was looking you over and you were wearing a familiar jacket that was far too big to be your own, "Jungkook? You’re here with Jungkook?” You nodded.

“Well, I should go before he gets suspicious.” Your heart sank, you knew that Jimin probably knew where Jin was and you wanted to go with him for that reason. “But-”

“Don’t worry baby,” He pecked your cheek, “I’ll come to see you again.”

—

He kept that promise.

He never stopped coming back and it’s only gotten you into trouble.

“Fine, if you’re not going to trust me then what’s the point of us anymore?”

“Y/n,” He says your name like a curse, “all the time and effort I put in to trying to love you, to make things easier for you—and this is who you really are? I fucking liar, did I make you into this?” His voice lowers, “because if so, I won’t do this to you anymore, if this is it, make it clear, tell me you don’t want me so I can breathe again,”

The blame has to go somewhere—you had to choose.

“I don’t want to-“

“Say my name,” He demands, “at least give me that.”

“J- Jungkook,” You utter his name out painfully, “I don’t want to be with you anymore…Not like this.”

He walks up to you and presses his hand against the wall, right beside your head. Your gazes are locked on, you both know this may be the last time you’re this close. He drags his hand from the side of your head to your cheek.

One last touch.

“That’s it then,” He exhales deeply, voice nearly too low to hear, “I’m sorry, you’re not the same person I fell in love with…I don’t know who you are.”

He walks out of the bedroom, leaving you alone. Just like you wanted. Your heart was broken to begin with, not just Jungkook’s doing, but as soon as you left the safety of your family, your heart began to break.

Jungkook storms out of the house and slams the door in his wake.

You walk out of the room but you are stopped by Namjoon blacking the doorway.

“Hey, sounded like things were getting pretty heated in here,” He tilts his head, “what’s going on? Are you two in a fight-“

“We just broke up,” You frown, “so whatever sick idea you had when you forced us together, it’s over.”

You try to push past him but you’re quickly reminded of his size and strength, he stops you in your tracks.

“Wait,” He holds your wrist in his hand, “seriously?” The look on his face in genuine surprise.

“Yes, now let go,” You pull against him, “I need to talk to Yoongi,”

“Is that why you were in his room last night? You told him you wanted to go with him right?”

“Yes,” You lie straight through your teeth, “will you please let go of me?”

Just as soon as you step away, the worst happens. The worst always happens.

“Hey! There’s a van a thugs outside and they’re armed,” Ryan bursts through the doors, “Hoseok and Taehyung left an hour ago, why’re you guys still here!?”

Before a, ‘what?’ can escape from your lips, a group of men in masks and with guns barge into the house, knocking Ryan clean out. About five gives waiting around to guard Namjoon come out with guns ablaze. There’s no time to process anything because Namjoon is already dragging you behind him and out of the house.

Within seconds he stops at the side of the house and you gasp for air.

“Wait,” You grab his sleeve, still struggling to catch your breath, “I need a gun, give me a gun, please! I can’t do anything like this,”

No more being protected off on the sidelines. You have to fight too.

“Here,” He pulls it from the holster attached to his thigh, “you better know how to use it.”

“Yoongi’s still inside,” Your eyes glaze over in sheet horror, “we have to go back, he could die-“

“No,” Namjoon knows this for a fact, “he’ll get out, compared to what he’s used to, this is a walk in the park,”

The Yoongi he knows has done this a dozen times and survived a dozen times, that’s just what he does. You take his word for it, you don’t have a choice.

With all those people in the house, you’d think they’d make some noise but it’s eerily quiet.

“Why is it so quiet?” You whisper.

“Shh,” He holds a finger to his lips, “they’re looking for someone and it’s not me or you,”

You feel your nose burn with the urge to cry at the thought, “Is- is it Yoongi?”

“Hush, I don’t know,”

“But-…” You fall silent when you feel a hand grab yours. When you look back and see Yoongi, your worries are soothed.

“Switch with me,” Yoongi stalks behind you, you and Namjoon share a sigh of relief, “you’ve used this one before,” he takes your hand and switches the guns.

“We need to make a break for the cars,” Namjoon leads the two of you to the driveway and garage.

“Y/N! Y/N!?”

The three of you pause and quickly realize who’s screaming your name.

“What the hell is he doing? Does he want to get killed,” Yoongi sneers.

“He probably thinks you’re still inside,” Namjoon concludes, “You guys go, I’ll get him.”

The car you assumed he was in is still running but no one is in the drivers seat. The closer you all get, you can see blood on the seats, who’s blood is that? You look to see if there are any body’s but there’s no one, did everyone rush inside?

“Yoongi, do you think they killed someone? All that blood…” You whisper as you follow him and he holds his phone to his ear.

“Our driver is down the road at that abandoned barn,” He puts the phone away, “we have to run, you’re gonna hear a lot of gunshots, but keep running.”

Yoongi took your hand and made a run for it. It’s nearly daybreak, the grass is covered in dew and the sun has yet to supply a decent amount of warmth. Just as he said, you hear the gunshots ring and you feel Yoongi’s hand tighten.

“Maybe we should wait for them? I’m afraid something will happen if we don’t stay and help, I’m scared-“

“No, we’re not waiting, we’re leaving now.”

The driver beckons you both over, hands secure on the wheel. Yoongi, despite his condition, pushes you into the car before himself. He tells the driver to go and he pulls off at an ungodly speed.

The car passes the house and all you see is an unconscious Jungkook being rushed out of the house and into the van.

“No, no, what’s happening,” You press your hands to the window and stare wide-eyed, “he’s not moving.”

#bts angst #bts mafia series #bts mafia fic #bts smut #bts fluff #ibdi #it burns doesn’t it #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #Jungkook smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #got7 fanfic #lisa blackpink #bts imagines

[fkitwebhaal]

The first time Gortash meets the Chosen one of Bhaal, he asks for their name.

No one calls them by their name in their temple, instead sticking to “Chosen” or “Herald.” The Chosen of Bhaal looks at him like he said something funny and responds.

“Pick one.”

So Gortash does. And thus begins a pattern.

Are they going on a stealth mission and need an alter ego? Gortash pick a name.

What should Gortash’s guards call them when they visit through the front entrance? “Pick a name , Enver, it’s not like I go through the front door anyway.”

What name should he give to a comrade who could use an assassin on hire? “Think of something clever, you always do.”

It’s not that the Chosen of Bhaal doesn’t have a name, he learns. They did once. But then their father called them to his service and “a surgeon doesn’t name their knife” and well, a steady name seemed kind of pointless. Titles worked just fine and well, an assassin benefits from having quite a few alter egos. Until Gortash, they really didn’t talk to anyone enough outside the Temple for a name to even be needed.

It’s a fucked up dynamic, really. Gortash can have the illusion of control over this Bhalspawn with the names , but its control that’s given freely. They are something he wants to control but never truly can. He is something they should destroy but don’t desire to.

Much later, the Former Chosen of Bhaal walks into Gortash’s coronation. He grins, and asks them “what name should I call you this time friend?”

When they respond with an actual name, he almost can’t hide his surprise.

#iz rambles #bg3 #dark urge #durge #lord enver gortash #enver gortash #I wanna be clear: THIS ISNT ROMANTIC ITS FUCKED #but it’s interesting! #worlds most unhealthy dynamic #it’s about names as how we see people and how picking your own name is a sign of agency for the durge #durgtash #but it doesn’t have to be durgtash #they let him pick names at first to try to get more info about him #in this house we look at Enver Gortash and go I can fix him and then pull out a gun #we can’t fix him nor should we but I’m willing to watch this trash fire burn

[buwheal]

Unexpected but fair.

How long were we disconnected?

#uhmm if it looks weird or ugly thats a you issue. Sorry not sorry im trying not to burn out by doing overcomplicated animation every time!!! #teehee #hes a pain in the ass dude gooooodddddd this took longer than i'd hope itd take... #but the background looks pretty fuckin cool i think it was worth it #theres so much to do in this environment #also lmfao i had to change the palette bc of damn color theory. so. he may be sickly green. maybe. #hngrfthhhhh its done thank god now we can move on #i have an 11 day deadline to get where i need to be LETS GO LETS GO #he doesn’t usually keep track of time btw :-) #[you've got mail!] #spamton #spamton g spamton #deltarune #deltarune spamton #deltarune chapter 2 #uhhh if he looks weird blame.. uhm.. blame him because his ass was believe it or not TOO TALL for the canvas #youre telling me this short little shithead was too tall??? #fgrtrggffghhhhhh

[britcision]

Okay so I fucking adore “Jason feels peace around Danny as the pit shuts the fuck up”

Now give me the slow burn

Just two lads trying to help but keeping it as not-weird as possible

Weekly coffee dates where Danny and Jason just… go somewhere

Read in the park

See a movie

Hang out behind a mall doing kick flips, whatever

Danny doesn’t wanna take advantage of the warm fuzzies Jason gets around him cuz they’re not personal, this is just…

A weirdly fast friendship speedrun

Someone who finally, fully gets him, and yeah, maybe just getting to be himself feels pretty fucking good to Danny too

Jason doesn’t want to impose any more than he surely already is, this is the Ghost King, taking time out of his schedule just to hang out with him so he can have some self control

He’s always and only a burden, Danny’s clearly just being cool cuz he’s the only King Jason’s met who actually fucking cares

He’d do the same for anyone

And so Jason tries to make sure they’re always doing something convenient/easy for Danny, something Danny likes to do

And Danny’s Physically Allergic to asking for anything or telling people things he wants or needs, so this requires Jason’s full detective abilities

And Tim’s but shut the fuck up no one will ever no Jason caved and asked for help

So when Jason sets up their next weekly sesh and takes Danny to the planetarium (maybe he was scared to ask first, maybe he was prepared to wimp out, it’s a surprise stfu)

And sees Danny’s whole face just light up

And they go inside, and Danny’s glowing in human form, bouncing from one place to another, gushing about everything

Jason knows he’s even gonna accept a favour from B to get the whole place to themselves for an overnight viewing

Cuz all he can feel isn’t just the soothing calm of the pit being silent, isn’t just the satisfaction of a job well done

He can feel the joy, the excitement, the radiant enthusiasm pouring off of Danny as if it were his own (and maybe something soft and small and fond that’s truly his)

And Danny

Danny’s a competitive little bitch

If we’re playing “Find Each Others’ Secret Hobbies” he’s got the god of software and his lesser subject Technus both on the line

(Technus stays Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s until he can hack the PDA, it was a dare)

So he brings Jason out of Gotham for the first time (maybe through the zone, it’s fast travel either way) and they do Shakespeare in the Park

And Jason knows exactly what Danny’s doing (the bastard, this is supposed to be how Jason thanks him for this clearly super annoying favour) but he’s

He’s not had the chance to be soft in so long

To be the literature nerd he’s never left behind

It takes literal years for them to realize they’ve been competitively dating each other and everyone else is absolutely betting on when they will finally kiss

Danny moves in and Jason makes a joke about “well I guess we won’t need our weekly hang sesh” and Danny stares him dead in the eye, full Eldritch Horror

“Does that mean I win?”

So nah Date Night is permanent and eternal and every fucking rogue in Gotham knows to hold it sacred

#dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #slow burn #dp x dc prompt #i do not have the time or patience to write a slowburn but that doesn’t mean they don’t haunt me #jason x danny #bonus points if jason gets kidnapped once before date night and thr fucking ghost king comes for him #‘oh you were expecting batman? that’s adorable tell him hi when he gets here’ #danny fenton dead and loving it

[stuckinapril]

A big part of turning 21 and going through that whole thing really was realizing that the idealistic friendship dynamics I’ve always daydreamed over in my head don’t exist & that in reality most friendships you’ll cultivate in your life will be a series of compromises. And maybe like 1 to 3 ride or die friends at BEST that shit is so rare and it gets rarer the older I am

#And I’ve always been a friendship girl like I’m a hopeless romantic but I’m just as much if not more of a hopeless platonic #I’ve really had to temper my expectations lately and honestly I’ve also been sequestering myself more as a result of it #Idk if I’m adjusting to this revelation well tbh I feel like I’m disillusioned w most of my friends lately #And it causes me to burn out and be a shitty friend to them in turn too #It’s just a never ending cycle of me not admitting to myself that maybe that glove doesn’t fit #And I’m quite literally forcing it onto my hand and it’s cutting off my circulation #But I’m too sentimental of my glove to just stop wearing it . Idk if this makes any sense but it does in my head