#and when it's all over they shake hands & amicably agree that they still cannot fucking stand each other

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

not "i ship these characters" or "i want them to bond platonically" but a secret 3rd thing (I want them to be forced to interact by the Narrative bc they would HATE that)

#who needs romance when i can watch two narrative foils painfully tolerate each other's existence #bonus points if they are forced to Work Together To Solve A Problem #and they end up working surprisingly well together! #they make a surprisingly effective team! #they even confide some backstory with each other & bond a bit & understand each other better #and when it's all over they shake hands & amicably agree that they still cannot fucking stand each other #'this was an interesting sidequest & I'm glad we got to experience it. #but all things considered i genuinely never want to see your face again' #Enemies to Chained-Up-In-An-Abandoned-Bathroom-Together #to Enemies #two stray cats forced to share a cat carrier for a trip to the vet

[fanmoose12]

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 12/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Сhapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

“Oi, lady, have you gone mute? Or did you call just to give me a silent treatment?”

Kenny, that voice belonged to Kenny. Kenny was just on the other line, Levi had finally found him, in the most unexpected way, in the most unexpected place.

Levi wanted to say so much, wanted to yell and scream, wanted to curse at his uncle before his throat was dry. But his tongue felt heavy, stuck to the roof of his mouth, and in that moment, the only thing he could manage was a breathy whisper,

“Kenny?”

The only reply he got was silence, which grew in intensity with every passing second. Levi could sense Hange’s bewilder and shock, her hard gaze was burning the back of his head. But Levi ignored her for the time being. He’d deal with her later, after he’d get out of Kenny just where the fuck he was hiding.

However… Kenny still didn’t give an answer. The bastard was going to end the call and throw away that phone, he was going to slip away and disappear again. Levi couldn’t let him. He was sick of chasing Kenny, of being three steps behind him.

It was time they talk, whether Kenny wanted to or not. Levi tightened his hold on the phone, lamenting that he couldn’t fist his hands in the lapels of Kenny’s stupid long coat to give him a firm, rough shake. Then, perhaps, Kenny would finally get his head out of his ass.

“I know you’re still here,” Levi gritted, his exasperation slipping through, “So stop fucking around, and start talking.”

Finally, that earned Levi a reaction. Kenny sighed, the sound alarmingly weary. “I told you to quit, didn’t I?”

“I couldn’t, and you know that.”

Kenny let out another sigh, this time accompanying it by a colorful curse. “Are you still running around city with that detective in tow?”

Levi chanced a glance of Hange. She was staring back at him, impatience written all over her face.

“Yes. What of it?”

“Can you shake her off?”

Could Levi do that? Possibly. But did he want to do it? Not particularly. He and Hange had an agreement, after all – Levi gets his uncle, Hange gets her missing girl. Fair and square. He wasn’t going to lie to her again, even for his uncle’s sake.

“I can’t. And cut the bullshit, Kenny. Tell me where the fuck are you.”

There was another beat of silence, this one was aggravating Levi a lot more. He meant to snap at Kenny again, but just as he was opening his mouth, a vile curse on the tip of his tongue, Kenny said,

“Remember the house we used to live in? When you mother was still alive? You will find me there.”

Levi took a deep breath, a million of questions ready to spill out. The call was disconnected before he could utter a single word.

Of course, what else he was expecting from his uncle? Cooperation? Clear communication? That was never their way.

What he found surprising, however, was that Kenny was hiding in their old house. Levi would have never suspected it as his hiding place. He didn’t know that house still existed at all, he thought Kenny had gotten rid of it a long time ago – sold it away or destroyed.

But he hadn’t. And now Levi didn’t know what to think of it. He also wasn’t sure how he felt about going back to his childhood home, a house he shared with his mother, a place where he had spent the happiest of his years, before the biggest tragedy of his life struck.

Would be overwhelmed with sweet nostalgia? Or be struck by immerse grief?

Or, maybe, he would be too occupied with yelling at his uncle to notice any kind of different, more solemn feeling. The third option was certainly the most preferred one.

Turning to face Hange, Levi was meaning to explain everything to her. But as their eyes met, the quiet of the night city was interrupted by a shrill sound of her ringtone.

Hange winced, silently apologizing, and took out her phone, putting it to her ear. Levi frowned, wondering who could call her this late in the evening. He had his suspicion, of course…

It was confirmed when Hange answered the call with ‘Erwin! Is everything alright?’.

Puffing an annoyed breath, Levi paced a few steps away, giving Hange at least the illusion of privacy. But as his legs carried him away from her, his ears strained, catching every bit of conversation that he could.

However, understanding what Hange and her boss were talking about proved to be quite a task, when her replies consisted mostly of ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Huh? What do you mean’ and ‘It can’t be!’. Hange ended the call in less than a minute, finishing it with a decisive ‘I’ll be there as soon as possible’.

She approached Levi immediately after.

“We need to go to the precinct.”

What? Like hell they did, they finally found Kenny, what could be more important than this?

“Reiss showed up there.” Hange explained, answering his unasked question and furious expression. “He wants to give a statement about Historia’s disappearance.”

Well… that changed the outset a bit, Reiss’ statement was if not useful, then certainly intriguing, but they found Kenny. In Levi’s eyes, that was still the more important clue. Not to mention… that was his initial and only goal.

“I know where Kenny is,” he told Hange, expecting it to change her plans completely.

He should have known that steering Hange away from something she had already set her mind on wouldn’t be so easy.

“We’ll go there right after I take that statement from Reiss.”

She looked so calm and rational, a stark contrast to the storm inside of Levi. Did she really not understand how significant their finding was? Levi was ready to growl from frustration.

He took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. “Hange—”

“Levi.” she moved closer as well, almost invading his personal space. “We will do this my way, or you will do nothing at all.”

Oh, so she was threatening him now? As if that would ever work on him.

“Alright,” he conceded, crossing hands on his chest. “Let’s split up then. You go to Reiss and your darling boss, I go to Kenny.”

Levi thought he’d struck gold with his suggestion. Both of them would get what they wanted without sacrificing precious time. It was perfect, wasn’t it?

Hange evidently didn’t think so. She laughed in his face, stating, “Don’t take me for a fool. Do you really think I’d let you go to see your uncle all by yourself?”

So that was it. The good old argument making a return.

“Really, Hange? After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t trust me?”

Perhaps, some of his hurt had reflected on his face, because Hange suddenly deflated, something close to shame flashing in her eyes. “It’s not about you,” she mumbled, looking to the side.

“Not about me?” this spurred his anger even more. “Then, who is it about?”

Hange clenched her jaw. “It’s about your uncle, Levi. I trust you, but I cannot and will not trust him. Would you have felt differently, if you were in my place?”

Hange’s concern and doubts were certainly… reasonable. He knew Kenny would never hurt him, not intentionally, but would he feel the same if he didn’t know him his whole life? If they weren’t family?

Of course, he wouldn’t. And Hange had even more reasons to distrust him, fighting her on that was futile. He could try some more to convince her, could try and make a run for it, but he’ll just end up wasting even more time that was now so precious.

“Alright,” his shoulders slumped, as he surrendered. Arguing with Hange had a way of making him extremely exhausted. “Let’s go to your shitty precinct.”

“Really?” Hange raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You agreed that easily? I thought I would need to handcuff you…”

Well, wouldn’t that be an interesting twist of events. Maybe, he would have enjoyed it. Once the embarrassment wore off, of course.

“Thanks for sparing me then.”

“Mm,” Hange patted his shoulder with a smile. “Don’t do anything stupid, and you’re totally safe.”

Ah, what a relief.

“Shall we go, then?” she started walking, her arm already lifted to hail a taxi. She didn’t even wait to hear his answer.

Levi cursed and hurried to catch up with her.

___

The whole time they spent in the car that was headed to the fucking police precinct, Levi felt like he was sitting on needles. There was another reason why he wasn’t crazy about going to that place, and, although, it was nearly not as important as his primary one, now it was making his anxiety rise to drastic heights.

Here he was, semi-willingly heading to the police precinct again. To the place that swarmed with cops, where some of Hange’s colleagues were probably aware that he was a criminal, where he would once again meet with Erwin fucking Smith.

Their last interaction ended somewhat amicably, but what could guarantee this one would be just as successful? With man as cunning as he was, who could be sure what was going inside that big brain of his?

Besides… there was another problem, hanging heavily on his mind. And in the silence of the taxi car, Levi decided to try and deal with it.

“Hey,” he started cautiously, attracting Hange’s attention. She shifted in her seat to look more comfortably at him. Despite that, Levi kept his gaze trained forward. “We’re going to meet Kenny soon, and, hopefully, untangle all this mess, so… have you decided what will happen with him afterwards?”

What will happen with me afterwards, was the question Levi wisely chose not to voice out.

“What will happen to your uncle?” Hange pursed her lips, a point finger tapping at her chin. “I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on the solution to this riddle.”

“And his…” theirs, “previous crimes? Are you going to just forget about them?”

“I can’t really do anything else about it. Technically, we have no suspects or any kind of damning evidence. Technically, that case has been closed almost two months ago.”

“So…” he put his hands into fists, keeping them from picking at the fabric of his pants. He still didn’t lift his face, reluctant to look into her eyes. He still didn’t ask the question that tormented him the most, afraid to hear the answer.

“After all of this is over… you’re free to go,” apparently, Hange knew what he was thinking about, even without him asking the question out loud. “Like I said, there is nothing I can do to pin those thefts on you or your uncle, and since, unlike your uncle, you haven’t kidnapped a young girl…”

“Oh. So you won’t try to put me behind bars anymore?”

He was almost disappointed to hear about it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Hange protested. “I would love to do that, but I have no means to do it.”

“The horrible bureaucracy saved me?”

That earned him a delighted chuckle. Levi’s chest swelled with pride because of this little achievement. “Unfortunately, you’re not the only criminal that got away because of it.”

“All the more reasons to thank it then.”

“Or curse it vilely.”

Levi shrugged, his lips curling in a smirk. “Depends on the point of view, I guess.”

There was a pause in the conversation, and when Levi chanced a glance at Hange, he found that she wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her face was turned to the window, her fingers drumming on the seat between them in a slow, irregular manner. She seemed pensive. Levi wondered about the reason for it.

“Hey, since we started talking about it…” the rhythm created by her fingers grew stronger, more erratic. “Have you decided what are you going to do after we finish the case?”

Had he thought about? He hadn’t had the time. But even if he had, what was there to think about? He didn’t have a lot of options.

“I remember you mentioning some kids from Singapore,” Hange continued. “Are you going to go back to them?”

Going back to the brats? That didn’t sound all that bad. Just this morning they’ve sent him a photo of the three of them, telling that they’ve settled comfortably in Jean’s summer house. They said that they’ve missed him. Levi was feeling the same. But was that enough to build a life there, so far away from his home?

He could stay with Kenny, but what if Kenny went to prison? Would there be a reason for Levi to stay then?

“You know… I think we made a pretty good team. So if you ever tire of being a vile criminal…” Hange trailed off, letting Levi fill the blanks himself.

If he understood what Hange was offering correctly, then… Oh. Levi felt his chest warm up, moving downwards, spreading that pleasant fluttering to his stomach.

Hange still was staring at the window, refusing to meet his eyes. Her reflection, however, was perfectly visible to Levi, and the slight rosy color on her cheeks made his own heat up.

“What, are you proposing I become your crime solving buddy?”

Hange shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I could use some of your skills.”

“I’ll think about it then,” he said, mirroring her detached voice.

Hange faced to him with a beam shining on her lips. It was enough to make Levi smile back.

___

Despite the late hour, the precinct was bustling with activity. Remembering his last visit and the half-dead building he found that time, Levi wondered if he just caught the police station on a particularly slow night, or if that was how it always operated, and the amount of officers running around that they saw now was unusual.

"So Reiss is actually here," Hange muttered. "Or something really bad has happened. Can't imagine what else could cause this commotion."

Oh, his assertion was correct then. The precinct was so active just because of Reiss’ arrival.

Hange walked through the precinct with confidence in her stride. She greeted every officer they passed with a quick nod, they answered her in kind, and, thankfully, most of them were too busy to pay attention to Levi. He would love if it stayed that way for the rest of their visit.

They took the stairs, crossed a couple of hallways, turned a few corners, and there they were - walking up to Hange's office. There were a lot more familiar faces there - Levi could see Nana— something, talking with two officers, and Mike, leaning against the coffee machine at the other side of the room.

Hange immediately changed their trajectory, heading to him.

"Mike!" she shouted, causing him to turn in their direction.

As they approached, Levi raised his hand in greeting. When they were close enough, Mike raised his hand too, but instead of a friendly salute, Levi received a dizzying, lip shuttering punch.

Woah, apparently he was not only a towering height, but a mountain of muscles as well, the force of that punch reverberated through his skin and almost sent Levi flying through the air to land right on his ass. Mike certainly wasn't going easy on him.

Comprehending what was going on around him became a vexing task after that hell of a punch, but Hange's loud, laced with anger voice still cut through the fog.

"Mike! What the fuck? Have you gone mad?"

Mike's answer was much quieter, Levi only barely managing to catch 'You're the one to talk..."

Whether Hange heard her tall friend or not, she gave no reaction to that line. Instead, her strong arms wrapped themselves around Levi's shoulders, making the ache in his jaw turn into a barely noticeable dull. She made him face her, her fingers gripping his chin. Despite the outrage swirling in her gaze, her touch was gentle, more like a caress.

"God, Han, he's alright, it was just a punch, I'm sure he had worse. And, he more than deserved it."

Hange looked up at Mike, long enough to give him a death glare and hiss, "Shut the fuck up now."

When her eyes were back on Levi, her voice softened considerably. "Hey, Levi, are you alright?"

He gave her a nod, tenderly clenching and unclenching his jaw. Seemed like... Mike was right. He did have it worse.

Besides... having Hange so close, seeing that worried look in her beautiful brown eyes was... extremely pleasant. Enough to make him want to remain in this position for a while longer, just to enjoy that blessed feeling for another moment.

"I told you everything was fine with him," Mike grumbled suddenly, startling Levi. With Hange in front of him, the rest of the world was left in blurs, even the man who assaulted him had faded to the background. "Now, leave the thief alone and hurry to Erwin. The big man is already in his office."

That got Hange's attention. "By the big man you mean..."

"Yep, it's Reiss. I’m sure I don't have to tell why making him wait is extremely unwise."

"Got it, got it," Hange pushed the hair back from her face, taking a step back, much to Levi's disappointment.

"Don't you worry, I'll take care of your buddy," Mike reached out to Levi, and the arms that Hange still had around him tightened. Levi felt an illogically massive amount of pleasure.

"Mike, don't you even think—"

"I won't hit him anymore. I swear," he added, when Hange just kept giving him a look full of skepticism. She left it on for another second, and then nodded, letting Levi go.

She marched off to the office without another word or even glance. Without her, Levi was suddenly too cold. And the jaw ache returned with vigor.

"Here," Mike thrusted a handkerchief in Levi's hands, pointing to his still bloodied chin. Levi accepted it with a grateful nod, wiping the blood with a disgruntled grimace.

"Now let's go, I won’t waste my smoke break babysitting you." Mike pushed him forward, back to where Levi and Hange had come from.

As he finally got a good look around the room, Levi noticed that they had an audience, quite big and intrigued one. They kept staring at him as Mike led him to the elevator. Thankfully, no one uttered a single word, or, god forbid, a question.

Levi would have breathed out in relief once the elevator doors closed, if his companion wasn't so... unnerving. Mike didn't say a word, didn't as much as glance in his direction while they rode the elevator. He was silent when they left the elevator. He was silent as they moved towards the exit. He was silent as they walked outside. He was silent when he lit up his cigarette, was silent when he offered another one to Levi. Mike was silent before he took his first drag and after he let the smoke out. He inhaled deeply through his nose, and only then he fixed his eyes on Levi.

Levi held his breath, the tips of fingers trembling in anticipation for what was to come. Hopefully, not another punch.

"I was with Han, you know? When she found that note of yours. When she realized who you actually were."

Oh... Then Mike's ire was more than justifiable. And Levi digressed – a punch would be probably a less painful option than having this conversation.

"Did she..."

"No. I've never seen Hange cry, but—" Mike put cigarette back to his lips, inhaling it slowly, as though calming himself down. Levi waited for his answer with a bated breath. "I've also never seen her look so lost. At first, she wasn't even angry or hurt, just confused. I couldn't bear to see that look on her face. So when today I saw you waltz in our precinct like that, with Hange by your side..." he trailed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry." Levi said.

He really was. He didn't mean to, didn't wish to hurt Hange. That was never his intention. And yet, he still did hurt her. That mistake would weigh on his soul forever.

"I know you are," Mike replied, surprisingly easy. "I used to think you're a scumbag and that my nose has failed me…"

Shit, he was really serious about this whole nose thing?

"But it turns out you're not that bad. You did lie and broke Hange's heart," and for that, Levi already received a punch in the face. "However, Erwin told me what happened yesterday. You really called him and asked to take Hange home?" Mike chuckled. "Man, that took some balls."

...To put it lightly. The memories of his last clash with Erwin still elicited a shiver from him.

"I was actually worried he'd throw me in jail," Levi confessed. "I'm surprised he didn't."

"Oh, believe me, he was very tempted to." Mike revealed.

"Then why didn't he?"

Mike shrugged, shaking off the ash from his cigarette. "Because it wasn't his call, it was Hange's. Whatever that she sees in you, it is enough for our Han to trust you. And Erwin respects her enough to not get involved in that."

Oh. That was actually reassuring. Perhaps, now Levi could stop feeling like a naughty schoolboy in Erwin's presence.

"But if you make the mistake of hurting Hange again," and just like that, the reassurance was gone. "We will make sure that you regret it. Next time, I won't be pulling back my punches."

So that hit was Mike going easy on him? Fucking hell. Levi hoped he wouldn't anger that man again. His skull may not survive it.

As Mike grew silent once again, Levi finally remembered the cigarette he was still holding in between his fingers. It almost burned out, he hurried to take a drag before it went out completely.

He regretted his decision almost immediately. Mike had a fucking terrible taste in tobacco.

Discreetly, he put the cigarette out and threw it into a trashcan.

"What do you think they're even doing there?" Levi raised a finger in the general direction of where Hange, Erwin and Reiss were. "Reiss showing up, it's a big thing, isn't it?"

"The biggest one we had in a while. Have you seen that shit inside? The precinct isn't that lively even during daytime. The bigger commotion would have happened only if we got you Ackermans in handcuffs."

Luckily, that would never happen.

"And? Do you think something... useful might come out of his visit?"

"Don't know," Mike stared down at his cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. "To be honest, I thought that Hange's new case was just another dead end. But now guy as big as Reiss gets involved? I guess it's more complicated than I expected it to be."

Complicated? That was one way to put it. Levi was still baffled by the notion that Kenny was working with Frieda Reiss. Clearly, this case was much, much more complicated than they've anticipated. Clearly, he needed to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.

As though hearing his thoughts, Mike put his cigarette out. "C'mon, let's get you back before Hange bites my head off."

"Doubt that four-eyes will care so much about me."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his face screaming bullshit. But he said nothing, only smiled enigmatically and patted his shoulder.

"Whatever makes it easier to sleep at night, man."

___

Inside of Erwin's office was brighter than Hange had ever remembered seeing. Usually he used only two sources of light - his battered desk lamp and computer screen. But today, the ceiling lights were on. Hange didn't know that he even had them.

What's more, for the first time in a while, the leather couch standing beside his desk was occupied - by Reiss and a woman Hange had never seen before. Although, Hange had never seen her, that didn't mean she didn't know her. The hair color, the face structure - it was almost identical. Eyes, however, were different. Historia had definitely inherited them from her father.

Compared to Reiss’ bright ones, Alma’s eyes seemed practically lifeless. Her expression was completely neutral, like she wasn’t entirely there, her thoughts a long distance away from Erwin’s office.

So that woman was the mysterious mother? Hange longed to hear what she had to say.

"Sorry for the wait," she flashed everyone in the room a smile and swiftly strolled inside, taking a seat across from Erwin.

"You're dressed very smartly this night, detective Zoe. I do hope I didn't interrupt your date."

The smile didn't slip of her lips, as Hange shifted, facing Reiss. "I appreciate the concern, but it is uncalled for. Nothing more important than my job."

"Your date must be very understanding. Is that the same fella I saw you with last time? I thought you'd broken it off."

Ah, so Reiss was keeping tabs on her? Lovely.

Luckily, Hange was keeping tabs on him as well. She shifted her gaze to Reiss’ companion.

"And can I ask you who is that, Mr Reiss? Is this your—"

"That's my secretary," Reiss' smile became just a fraction more strained. Hange internally cheered. "Alma."

The same name that was listed in Historia's birth certificate. That bit of doubt Hange still had, now vanished without a trace.

"She's got valuable information regarding your recent case. And since you and I are already acquitted, I decided to accompany her."

"How nice and generous of you," Hange told Reiss, before returning to his secretary. "It's nice to meet you, Alma," she put her hand out for a handshake. Alma accepted it, albeit weakly. And only after receiving a nod from Reiss. Interesting. And creepy. "Why have you come to see me?"

The question was directed on Alma. But Reiss was the one who answered it.

"Alma has something to share regarding the disappearance of her daughter."

"Oh?" Hange shared a look with Erwin. His bush eyebrows were up to his hairline. So he had no idea about it, huh? Well, wasn't it good to finally be one step ahead of him?

But for the moment, Hange had to feign shock as well.

She cast her eyes down, hands dropping to her lap. "I was under the impression that Krista was an orphan." Then, with a slight frown, she added, "Why didn't you report her missing then? We caught news of her disappearance almost a week later."

"I..."

Alma paled, her hands began to tremble. Hange's grin began to spread, she almost got them—

But then Reiss— damn him— interfered. He covered Alma's hands with his, holding them gently, like a caring father.

"Alma and Krista had just recently reconnected," he explained in a quiet, saddened voice.

"Yes," Alma confirmed. Seemed like Reiss' support has given her the needed strength - she sounded surer now. But her gaze kept its strange detachment. "Krista and I rarely talk. I had abandoned her at the orphanage when she was just a newborn, so there are obviously... some tensions between us."

Despite the emotional flavor of her story, Alma was anything but. She was talking about her missing daughter and the rocking relationship that bounded them, yet nothing of it was mirrored in her. Her voice didn't waver, no muscle twitched on her face. Alma looked bored, like she was talking about something more trivial than even weather. Damn it, even Ackerman would have done a better job at pretending.

Although, perhaps, Hange was judging his acting skills a little too harshly. Earlier that evening, his kiss was more than just convincing. Hange felt tingle in her lips at the mere thought.

The sound of Erwin clearing his throat brought her back to present, rather abruptly.

"That is a very tragic story, Miss... Alma, but what is the reason for your visit?"

"Oh right," she freed her hands from underneath Reiss' and grasped her purse, opening it. "I found this on my lawn."

After a moment of rummaging through the purse, Alma laid before Hange a phone that was wrapped in a cellophane bag. Huh, for a simple secretary she knew more than enough about preserving evidence. Not to mention that if Hange found the phone of her missing daughter lying on the lawn, preserving evidence would be the last thing on her mind. But, oh well, what wasn't suspicious about that woman?

Reaching out to Erwin, Hange silently asked him to pass the sterile gloves. Any other day she wouldn’t think twice about simply grabbing the piece of evidence, but if that's how they wanted to play, she would have to indulge them.

Once the latex was pulled onto her long fingers, Hange took the phone - eagerly, impatiently. It all might be just a ruse, and she'd be damned, but she was intrigued by it.

The phone wasn't in the best shape - a large crack ran through the screen, the sides of it were covered in bumps, and at the bottom of it— oh, just a speck, but it was undeniably blood.

Hange shivered at the thought about its origin.

Once unlocked, the phone destroyed the little doubts she had. It really belonged to Historia, the picture on the lock screen confirmed it. The photo showed Historia, who was smiling at the camera with all of her loveliness, and Ymir, who was facing away, her lips at Historia's cheek. Ah, so that's why she was so dead set on saving her? Interesting. And so romantic. Hange didn't expect such a thing from Ymir.

"You found it on your lawn, right?" Erwin asked, signaling Hange to pass him the phone. Once she did, he looked at it, with both skepticism and curiosity.

"Yes," Alma said. "I called Mr. Reiss as soon as I did."

"Alma hopes that the phone would shed some light on where Krista disappeared."

"Hm." Hange couldn't shake off the feeling that she was walking straight into a trap. Why did Reiss decided to finally act, and why today of all days? Was he aware that they got to one of his daughters, and now were close to finding another one? Did he even care? And what was the importance of the phone? It was some sort of distraction or diversion, Hange was sure of it. But for now, it would have to remain a mystery. As suspicious as Reiss' actions were, there was a more pressing matter now. They had to get to Kenny Ackerman, and get out of him everything he was willing to share. Hopefully, with Levi by her side, he'd be much more amenable.

"Thank you for your cooperation," getting out of off her stupor, Hange smiled and shook first Reiss', then Alma's hand. "If we find anything regarding Historia's whereabouts, we'll alert you immediately."

"Krista." Reiss spoke in a voice so low that Hange had to take a double take to confirm that yes, that scary tone was coming from the honest, kindhearted, absolutely innocent politician.

"What?"

"Krista, Alma's daughter is named Krista. And you were just talking about some Historia."

Some Historia, huh?

"My mistake," Hange chuckled, rubbing her neck. "It was a long day, sorry."

"Forgive that slight mishap. Detective Zoe works day and night to find your daughter." Erwin chimed in, calming everyone down with his soft, unassuming smile. Hange could barely keep her delightful giggle.

Your daughter, Erwin said, while looking Reiss in the eyes. So he already caught on? Hange wasn't surprised.

"Thank you for the visit and have a good night, Mr. Reiss, Miss Alma. My assistant will walk you to the door."

Reiss nodded, his eyes still darker than a night's sky. He helped Alma get to her feet and led her to the door, where Nifa, Erwin's assistant, was already waiting with a tired gaze and polite smile.

They left, without looking back even once. Alma didn't say goodbye to Hange, didn't grab her arm and beg to bring her daughter back home. God, that woman could have at least tried to do a more believable act.

Once the door was closed, and they were left alone, the amicable expression was gone from Erwin's face. His jaw was set, his lips pressed in a line, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I hope I don't have to tell you that you're walking on a thin ice, Hange. And that this endeavor of your—"

"I know."

"And working with that Ackerman—"

"I know." Hange repeated, firmer this time. She knew the dangers, knew about possible consequences. Last night, Erwin made sure to explain it to her in vivid details. "But this girl is in trouble, Erwin. I can't let it go before she's safe."

"Your heart was always your biggest weakness," the stoic mask on his face hardened, and then cracked, revealing a fond smile. "But it's also your biggest strength. Don't lose it."

Standing up, Hange hid Historia’s phone inside the pocket of her jacket, then flashed Erwin a cheeky grin. "Is that an order, Captain?"

"It absolutely is, detective. You may go now. Someone is very impatient."

Hange followed Erwin's gaze, turning to the door. Even through the closed door, Levi's silhouette was transparent. He was pacing back and forth, and Hange could bet that he was scowling. She confirmed that guess as soon as she left Erwin's office.

"What the fuck had taken you so long? C'mon, four-eyes, we have to hurry."

Right, Kenny Ackerman was waiting for them. Kenny Ackerman who most definitely had the answers, who probably knew where Historia was. Hange couldn't allow another second go to waste.

She quickly skipped to where Levi was standing, prompting him to start moving.

"Let's go then! The solution awaits!"

___

"Wait!" Hange stopped them as soon as they were out of the precinct. "We need to call Ymir."

Levi groaned. Why, oh why, would she want to call that impossible brat?

"We wouldn't have found your uncle if it wasn't for her help. The only thing she asked in return is to find Historia. We owe her that much."

Perhaps, that was true, but Hange hadn't considered one very important factor - Levi really, really didn't want to face Ymir again. The last embarrassment was still too fresh in his mind.

"We haven't found Historia yet," he tried to argue.

"But we're as close as ever," Hange chirpily replied, overthrowing his whole reasoning with just one hopeful sentence.

Well, his battle was doomed before it had even begun. Levi lamented this loss with a sigh. "You're too kind, four-eyes."

"And you're too cranky," she retaliated, following that devastating blow with a mighty clasp to his back. "Call taxi for us while I talk with Ymir, okay? You know where to go, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded, sobering a little. Amidst his banter with Hange, he had completely forgotten that right, he was going to visit his childhood home, the same house where he had found the breathless body of his mother at the ripe age of nine. The feelings this trip was awakening in him were still unclear.

"And where exactly are we going?" whether his face, voice or general stiffness betrayed him or Hange was just that attuned to his emotions, but worry took residence in her gaze. She froze with phone raised to her ear, waiting for his answer.

"It's at the edge of the city."

"Near the docks? Some kind of abandoned warehouse?"

"Um." Something pointy stuck in his throat, making it hard to speak. However, Hange's gaze didn't waver, as she continued to expect a continuation from him. Swallowing his discomfort, Levi muttered, "We're going to my childhood home."

"Oh." The hand holding the phone lowered. Hange took a step in his direction. For one terrifying second Levi thought she was going to hug him. But, apparently, she decided to spare him from further embarrassment and concluded that gripping his shoulders tightly was enough. She stared straight at him, and in the darkness her eyes shone with sincerity. "If you want - or need - to talk about this, I'm ready to listen. If you—"

Fucking hell, compared to Hange, every other human seemed like an utter piece of shit.

"It's fine, four-eyes. It's just the house where I found my dead mom."

Saying that was obviously a mistake. Hange gasped, her eyes widening. Her hands on his shoulders tightening. "Levi, that's—"

"Yeah, one hell of a traumatic experience, especially for a brat who barely turned nine."

Another wrong line. Now Hange looked close to tears. Levi didn't know what urge was stronger - to wrap himself around Hange and ask her to never let go, or tear his hair out.

"Listen, I've dealt with it a long time ago," he didn't, hadn't even tried, but today and right now was very obviously the wrong time to go soul-searching and uncover what consequences his mother's death had on his psyche. "Don't worry about it."

"I can't help it, but if you insist..."

With that lost expression on her face, Hange looked so damn adorable, Levi was pissed off at himself for being so unwilling to look away. Thankfully, she saved him from this heavy duty by being the first one to turn around, the phone back to her ear. Levi turned away as well, escaping temptation. His finger was just hovering over the order button, when it dawned at him.

"Wait!" he pulled Hange back to him. "Did you just call me Levi?"

It wasn't the first time this evening as well, but all the previous occasions had him too occupied with something else to notice that slight change.

"Where did the damned Ackerman go?"

"Um." If he hadn't spent the previous two days learning just how bold and forward Hange was, he'd say that right now, she looked ashamed. The red in her cheeks certainly spoke in favor of that theory. "I'll be dealing with two Ackermans from now on, right? So to avoid any confusion..."

That was a very logical, reasonable explanation. So why Levi wanted it to be something more— personal?

"The taxi will be here in five," he said, distancing himself from these pointless, foolish thoughts.

"Ymir said she'll be waiting there for us," Hange nodded readily. "Shall we go?"

And so they went.

___

By the time Levi and Hange walked out of the taxi, Ymir was already waiting for them. She was standing near the sidewalk, leaning against a shiny black motorcycle.

Levi rolled his eyes at the sight of it. Of course, Ymir rode a motorcycle. As though she wasn't already a personification of every possible lesbian cliché.

"Oh what a baby!" squealing, Hange ran up to the motorcycle, looking it over with eyes burning from excitement. "I'm sure Historia would love to take a ride on this beast!"

"What can I say?" Ymir huffed, puffing her chest. The smirk on her face was absolutely horrendous. Even Kenny couldn't quite recreate a look of that much self-confidence. "Chicks dig bikes."

"That they certainly do."

Aha, so Hange liked motorcycles. Levi made a mental note about that.

He then left behind Hange's shrilling coos and Ymir's bratty replies, taking a step closer to the house he had grown up in.

It was dark now and seemingly empty, but years ago it was always filled with light. It was filled with life - his mom's cheerful laughter, his uncle's merry jokes, Levi's own insistent, curious questions about everything he encountered. It was filled with love— but now, it was just a house - old and cold.

Although, other than that, it looked exactly like Levi had remembered. A light green house in the suburbs, with a garden, little white fence and even playground, all of it was a gift from Uri Reiss, the only real friend his uncle had.

Oh, how his mother loved that house. How she enjoyed tending to the garden, how she laughed when she watched Levi play on a swing. They were happy in this house, the happiest Levi had ever been.

Standing before it now, after so many years, felt strange. Noticing all the little signs that someone had been looking after the house ­- the lawn was moved, the trash sorted and neatly packed, even the lane was swept - was even stranger. And he used to think that Kenny had sold the house long time ago. Evidently, the old bastard was more sentimental that he let on.

"Hey," a gentle voice was in his ear, strong hands on his shoulders. "Do you need a moment or—"

He was grateful for Hange's concern. But that concern - as sweet as it was - was misplaced. They didn't have time for it.

"I'm fine," he assured, lamenting that he was too prideful to take Hange by the hand. Not that he needed it, but— it certainly would make him feel better. "Let's get moving."

They did, all three of them in perfect unison, and be it her detective's sense or simple intuition, or, perhaps, Hange really could read him as easily as a book, but she took her hand in his, squeezing his palm reassuringly. It certainly worked, her touch was like a magic that chased away the tense feeling in his muscles. Now, Levi could almost breathe freely.

When they reached the door, Hange lifted her free hand, probably with intent to knock. What a dork, Levi thought fondly. Pushing her aside, he kicked the door open with one mighty hit of his leg.

"Levi!" Hange yelled in shock. "You can't just—"

"My house, remember?"

Without another word, Levi passed the threshold, Hange and Ymir trailing after him.

Even engulfed in darkness, the inside of the house looked just like he remembered - soft, crème carpet under their feet, fern that had grown so much bigger standing near the door, a photo of—

Oh. Levi averted his eyes with lightning speed. The last thing he wanted to do was to start crying. Especially with Ymir present.

The house seemed emptier with each step they took. Doubt started to arise within Levi, and along with it - his anger. If that son of a bitch lied to him—

But then he heard it. Just at the edge of his hearing, but that sound was as familiar as it was unmistakable. The sound of Kenny playing with his lighter.

He hurried in the direction of that sound, it led him to the living room. The room was dark, the only source of light was the old TV-screen that did a very poor job of illuminating the rest of the room. Levi could barely see the outlines of the couch, but the figure lying on it— oh, Levi knew it so well.

The sight of Kenny with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other was all too familiar. And just as infuriating. Still holding onto Hange, Levi marched to his uncle with the full intent of kicking his insolent ass.

Kenny shot to his feet moments before they reached him.

"Levi!" he spread his arms in a greeting gesture. Levi's scowl darkened. "You brought friends!"

"Kenny—"

"And before you or your detective—" Kenny swept his eyes all over Hange, his grin growing, "friend punch me, let me show you something."

"Something?" it came from Hange, who sounded simultaneously intrigued, cautious and fucking furious.

"Someone," Kenny corrected with an enigmatic wink. Before Levi or Hange could force him to explain, he shouted, his voice carrying over the entire house, "Girl! Come here, you have guests!"

There was a beat of silence, then, they heard a sound of hurried footsteps that came from the upper floor. Levi held his breath. Hange did too, and, holding her hand, he could feel her pulse beating strongly.

At last, the door to the living room opened.

"What the hell do you want from me again?"

Levi's jaw dropped. Dressed in lilac top and shorts, with her hair up in a messy ponytail she looked a bit different from the perfect girl from the photos, but truth was impossible to deny.

Before them— in the flesh, stood Historia Reiss.

#fuck i don't have a silly joke this time soooo just enjoy? #levihan

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 21)

word count: 4k

angst, fluff

(part 20) (series masterlist)

"i cannot believe we're gonna get to witness this," yunho says excitedly, plopping down on the bed as he nudges your arm playfully.

"oh god, don't make a fool of us," mingi grumbles at him from across the room. "i can already see you blurting out some nonsense."

you had texted them right after yeosang had invited you to go an amusement park with him and the boys last night. he had gotten a text from hongjoong just minutes before he dropped you home, informing him of the plan and making it known you specifically were invited.

and you were hesitant at first, for obvious reasons involving a handsome boy and lingering tension, but then innocently asked him if you'd be able to invite some friends of your own.

"tall pretty boy who tried to break my skull?" he asked sarcastically, looking over at you in the passenger seat.

"the very same," you quip with a smile, "and yunho, the new boy." you wiggle your feet nervously as you wait for his answer, his eyes casting down to catch the slight movement.

you think it'd be nice to merge your friend groups, let all the boys meet and befriend each other and maybe even see if mingi could find anything, even the smallest thing, endearing about your boyfriend; you obviously don't need the boy's full approval but it'd be nice if they could at least get along and be amicable.

"would you feel more comfortable if they came?" he asks lowly, snaking his hand over to grab yours gently. you look down shyly, watching as he interlaces his fingers with yours before his thumb starts moving across your skin.

"i mean i wouldn't feel uncomfortable without them..." you tell him truthfully, "but i don't know, i think it'd be nice."

his other hand catches your jaw, turning your head so your soft, relaxed features meet his. a small smile  crosses your face at the expression he's wearing and he bites his lip to hide his own.

"what?" you squeak.

"nothing," he hums. but it's not nothing, the tugging in his heart as he watches you look at him with sparkling eyes and a smile he's gonna hate to leave tonight; it's also not helping, at all, that your lips are still puffy and red from hours of making out and fumbling under the blankets on his couch.

"if you want them there, they can come," he says softly, "i'll make sure there's enough room in the car."

you smile at him, moving forward to peck his cheek in gratitude. but he's quick to catch your face when you try to pull back, bringing your lips to his gently. you smile against them, giggle muffled by his mouth as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you impossibly closer.

he leans his forehead on yours when his lungs burn for air, looking into your slightly glossed over eyes. "but you better tell mingi to be on his best behavior."

"weren't you the one warned to be on your best behavior?" yunho asks sarcastically, looking up at your face that holds a chastising, warning look. it already took an hour of begging via group facetime to get mingi to agree this morning, your pouts and yunho's whines nearly driving him on the brink of insanity until he finally said yes.

"weren't you the one begging me to come an hour ago?" mingi snaps harshly as he rolls his eyes. you knock into yunho's shoulder assuringly, shaking your head at the boy's grouchiness before hesitantly going over to poke his chest.

"mingi..." you whine, the smallest hint of pout making its way on your face when your gazes meet. it takes you a minute to see it but then it's like the realization hits you all at once: his irritable, the swirling in his eyes, the way he so adamantly said he didn't want to be around a group of people.

he lets out a small sigh, his eyes roaming your face before looking over yunho who's watching him with a guarded expression. "i'm...i'm sorry." the boy on your bed raises his eyebrow at the apology, your eyes trained on mingi's face as you watch his lids shut.

"are you...did you really not wanna come?" you squeak out, "i'm sorry if you feel like we forced you but-"

"stop," his deep voice commands quickly, eyes popping open and filtering back and forth between you two. "i'm just being...annoying. i don't like big groups and i get-"

"bitchy? obnoxious? dramatic?"

you side-eye yunho, hard eyes telling him to stop until a ghost of a smile quirks up at mingi's lips. "anxious, shithead. i get anxious and nervous, okay."

"but you have us," yunho says walking over to where you're both standing and throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"yeah, you have us," you repeat gently, "and if at anytime you wanna leave, just say.....hm...porcupine! yeah, that'll be our safe word. one hint of the word porcupine and we're out."

"safe word?" yunho mumbles in your ear, hearing the perverted smirk. "interesting word choice." you elbow the boy harshly to see mingi look at the both of you with a shy, almost touched smile.

"really?" he asks and the childlike way he says it is such a contrast to his towering appearance and deep voice.

and just as you're about to confirm, yunho's arm is off of you and around mingi, squeezing at his shoulder affectionately. "really," he says, "i'll even hold your hand if you want. how 'bout that, princess?"

"fuck off," mingi grumbles, attempting to push the boy away to hide the blush working its way on his cheeks. but you catch it immediately, biting your lip so a wide smile doesn't appear on your face; if you didn't know any better, you'd think-

your phone vibrating on your dresser grabs your attention, running over to answer with a smile when you see yeosang's name pop up on the screen. yunho and mingi watch a smile light up your face as you greet him, running over to your window to see a familiar g-wagon waiting outside your house.

you end the call with a giggle and a shush, turning around to look at the two boys watching you. "are you guys ready?" you ask, looking over both of them before your eyes land on mingi. "you can porcupine right now, if you need."

but something tells you he doesn't, not with the way yunho's at his side and the way their arms are brushing ever so slightly.

"no, i'm-i'm good," he says before a smirk pulls at his lips. "let's go see this love triangle in the flesh."

your face falls as a deep blush floods to your cheeks, throwing your hands over them and running out your bedroom door as deep chuckles ring into the hallway. you listen to them not so secretly conspire to keep a close eye on all three 'subjects,' turning around to shoot them a dirty look when you hear them say pda is an added bonus.

the three of you squeeze into the car with a chorus of hi and introductions, mingi and yunho's lanky limbs managing to get in the back as you plop down in the middle of the second row. your eyes meet seonghwa's in the rear-view mirror almost instantly, shooting him a small smile that he gives right back.

it's a strange feeling to be back in this car when almost two months ago, you were up in the front with him. overjoyed but also so incredibly nervous at the prospect of sitting just a few inches away from him with a fluttering heart sharing shy, soft gazes.

"do you want?"

seonghwa looks at you for a few seconds, then into the bag, nodding his head towards the pretzels. you open the bag for him, tipping it towards him as he takes one out.

the indistinct chatter of the three boys picks up and you put your hand in seonghwa's bag, munching on one secretly. but he's quick to catch you, throwing a smirk at you with a mock chastising look.

"hey..." he says and you smile with your cheeks full of a pretzel  you swallow before fishing back in the bag, taking one out and holding it up to seonghwa's mouth.

"here," you say sweetly and the back of your mind takes note of how different you sound talking to him and then to the boy in the back. how warm and fuzzy you feel with seonghwa, then hot and prickly with yeosang.

seonghwa takes the food from your mouth with a smile, happy eyes meeting yours when his mouth closes around it. you pretend your stomach doesn't tighten when his wet lip touches your finger.

yeosang throws his arm around the back of your seat, ripping you from the memory. his hand slips right into your hair as he throws a smug smile at mingi, "hi, pretty boy. i'm glad you were able to make it."

mingi resists the urge to growl and flip him off, instead deciding to narrow his eyes at the boy. "can't say the same, asshole."

yeosang smirks before holding out his fist to bump yunho's, a contrast of polite smiles and words exchanged. he cranes his neck back to look down at you, resting his cheek on your head slightly to mumble "hey," in your ear.

"hi," you say softly with a smile. "are you excited?"

"excited?!" you hear a high pitched voice from the back, mingi and yunho jumping in their seats and letting out surprised yelps.

"i told you you were gonna scared them, you little freak," hongjoong grumbles from the front seat.

"i didn't mean to! i was looking through the snack bag and didn't hear them." you crane your neck back to see san has yet again, got pushed to the trunk.

"hi, san," you smile at him with a wave. you watch for a few seconds mingi and yunho fall under his spell, visibly making the glasses-wearing boy relax before turning your attention to yeosang who's already looking at you.

"what?" you ask quietly, your lips jutting out ever so slightly as you look at him. his jaw ticks as he shakes his head, craning his neck to look out the window before back at you.

and if your lips weren't enough, your wide-eyed, innocent gaze surely did him in.

"i wasn't gonna kiss you in front of everyone," he mumbles lowly in your ear, his hot breath bringing goosebumps to your neck. "but if you keep looking at me like that, i just might have to."

you're about to respond with something snarky, like how non-threatening that is or how much you really want that. but then that idea of a burning pair of eyes in the rearview mirror makes your stomach sink, just causes you to quietly giggle and knock his hard stomach with your elbow.

when you get to the amusement park an hour later, new bffs wooyoung, san, yunho and mingi are quick to barrel out of the car the second the doors are open. hongjoong and seonghwa share a look with you and yeosang that has you both chuckling, the shorter boy shaking his head and already regretting this trip.

"i swear to god, we can never do this- no! nope! that is not the entrance!" hongjoong's voice shouts at the four boys ahead, seonghwa snorting at the way it squeaks before the boy grunts out again when it only causes wooyoung and san to run faster in the wrong direction.

"they are so damn annoying," seonghwa grumbles as him and hongjoong speed up to meet up with them. you and yeosang watch in amusement as each of them drag each boy by the ear.

"they're like a mom and dad," you giggle up at yeosang, smiling softly when you see a look of indifference on his face.

"it's always been like that," yeosang hums, "those annoying little fucks."

"they're funny," you whine, pushing into him lightly, "and you're the brooding, moody teenage brother who's going through a phase." yeosang side-eyes, your giggle at his 'serious' face quickly turning into a tiny squeal when he drags you by the arm and behind a parked car.

"yeosang!" you squeal, "what are you doing? we're gonna-"

your back is pressed up against the car before his lips are on yours, the words dying in your throat as you kiss him back almost immediately. his hands move to your waist when your mouths part, lips melting into one another as they so naturally do.

his tongue teases to slip in and touch yours, a quiet moan attempting to leave your mouth before you realize you're very much in public leaning on a random person's car.

you break the kiss as you lean back, chest heaving ever so slightly as you look at his lustful gaze.

"we're gonna lose them," you get out causing him to roll his eyes and squeeze your hips gently.

"we'll find them," he hums, bringing his hand up to trace your red lips. "i just needed to do that. in private."

because while you'd both prefer not to kiss in front of people in general, it goes without saying you definitely don't wanna shove your newfound affection in someone's face. he sees your mouth part ever so slightly, like you're about to say something, before it snaps close and your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek.

"what?" he hums, not liking the sad, dejected look that crosses your face.

"nothing," you say quietly, "i just....i feel bad. don't you think it's...kind of awkward?"

because you can't stop thinking about the parallels from the car, about how just a month ago this could've been you and seonghwa making out and holding one another. and you're grateful to see the boy doesn't seem mad or hostile, that he's still smiling and acknowledging you. but the whole situation just makes you feel...awkward and bad and maybe even a little dirty.

"it'll probably be weird for a little," he says honestly, voice dropped into the deep sweetness you've come to love and still can't believe is leaving this bully's mouth. "but he'll be good. perhaps you're giving yourself a little too much credit, hm?"

your eyes widen as your mouth drops open, a huff leaving your mouth as you smack him. "you're still such a bully," you exclaim, stomping off towards the entrance of the park as footsteps and a deep chuckle come up from behind you. he catches you around the waist, burying his face in your neck and placing feather light kisses on your skin.

"you're still such a baby," he mumbles, feeling him smile against your skin which without fail, brings a reluctant one to your face.

"just shut up, you're only good for kissing these days."

when you both meet up with the others on the line, you catch yunho's gaze and see him smile at you before his eyes move to mingi talking to san. you both share an excited look back and forth, happy he was able to get comfortable so fast.

yeosang guides you into the crowded park by the small of your back as the eight of you make your way around the park. you bounce around from one rollercoaster to the next, your sweaty palm in yeosang's every time you're getting strapped in and taking off up a hill. you hear the shouts of your friends behind you, wooyoung's screech begging to get him off and san playfully remarking that he peed his pants.

the day goes smoothly, the wait in line almost being more fun than the right itself with all the playful banter and bickering. one of the most chaotic games of rock, paper, scissors you've ever been a part of landing the two biggest cowards sitting in the front (and one of them was absolutely you).

you get off the ride with windblown hair, yeosang checking you with a smile and mockingly clapping his hands that you were able to survive. your hands and arms clumsily knock into one another as you make your au down the ramp and follow behind the others.

you feel yeosang hands rake through the knotty strands of your tangled hair from behind you. "stop!" you whine, feeling his finger tangle into another knot and pull at your scalp.

"y/n, it's a mess," he laughs out.

you turn around to smack his stomach lightly, narrowing your eyes at him before turning back around. but then he does it again, another pinch to your scalp causing you to yelp out uncontrollably.

"you're hurting me, yeosang!"

your body slams into a hard chest, your gaze traveling up to see seonghwa's eyes trained right on yeosang behind you. you swallow when you see his tensed jaw, his eyes dark and guarded and hitting you with the harsh reminder that he was always there for you when yeosang would actually set out to upset and harm you.

"forget how to be nice?" you spat because it's the only thing you can think to say to him.

"forget that i don't give a shit if i'm nice or not to your kind?" yeosang growls, advancing toward you more and you swallow nervously. you step back further and your foot hits a large plant box, causing it to topple down and your cheeks flame when you hear the loud shattering of glass against the wood floor.

you hear the murmuring and chuckles of your classmates and a scornful laugh leaves his mouth.

"see, you don't belong here, y/n, and you shouldn't have even-"

a tall figure rushes out from behind you, grabbing yeosang by the jacket and pushing him up against a nearby column. you can faintly hear the dramatic gasps of your classmates, some of them whipping out their phones to record.

"are you fucking serious," you hear seonghwa's deep voice shout and you know you should probably pull him off of him. but your feet are glued, the harsh yell of seonghwa ringing in your ears.

"get off me," is all the other boy responds, not trying to push the boy off but shooting daggers at him. seonghwa's speaking so lowly, so harshly that you're not able to make out the next few words until seonghwa throws yeosang off the column harshly, nearly knocking the boy to the floor.

"i'm warning you, yeosang, you better watch yourself," you hear seonghwa growl and the shorter boy squints his eyes at him, walking the few steps to be standing right in front of him.

you don't even realize you're still in seonghwa's warm chest until yeosang pulls you back by the waist, looking over his friend with an hard but understanding expression. because he knows exactly what the boy is thinking, how this is all too familiar to the number of times he'd actually be helping you while he was just trying to push you away.

but it's not like that anymore and if the look in his brown eyes isn't giving that away, his arm possessively wrapped around you certainly does.

seonghwa grunts out an apology before quickly turning around and walking to hongjoong, the two boys talking hushly as they go up the ramp to the rollercoaster. you peer up at yeosang with a slight pout, his hand trailing up your body to grasp your jaw.

he sees the conflict swirling in your eyes, not conflict about your feelings but about the situation in general. how it feels like there's no right way to act or handle this extremely uncomfortable tension; but it's just a phase you all have to through.

"stop," he commands, squeezing your face gently.

"but i-"

"enough, baby, we're here to have fun, okay?" he hums, moving his thumb ever so slightly across your face before his eyes catch mingi and yunho. "speaking of which...what's up with them?"

you move your face out of his hold and turn to see the two tall boys talking hushly, mingi leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as yunho stands directly in front of him; something about it makes mingi look a lot smaller than he is, the dark haired boy's presence looming over him as he looks at the shy boy.

"i don't know," you say, turning back at him to not stare.

"hm," yeosang hums, tongue peeking out playfully as he watches your expression, "your little smile says otherwise."

"okay, so maybe there's just a budding roma-"

"c'monnnn guys!" you hear wooyoung whine from the ride's gate, "we're not gonna be able to sit together if you both don't hurry up!"

you throw the boy a thumbs up as yeosang scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you rushing over as mingi and yunho stay against the wall. you look over at mingi who gives you a reassuring smile, shooing you away with his hand.

mingi doesn't go on any other rides for the rest of the day, him and yunho going off to play rigged games and go on the bumper cars until they happen to meet up with you and the others a few hours later at a food stand.

mingi and yunho watch you and yeosang together, the playful hits and natural banter that exudes from both of you. the change in yeosang is almost creepy to see, how he's visibly lighter and more pleasant around you. he still has his dry wit and snarky comments but you'd have to be blind to see how much happier he is around you.

because even when you steal his french fries repeatedly and drink half of his slushy, only a playful pinch to the stomach or a lackluster groan of your name serves as your punishment.

but then there's another side to it, mingi's eyes moving to seonghwa who's eyes stay trained on his food or one of his friends. he watches them with a forced smile, far too tight and not reaching his eyes to be real. he laughs when the others do, speaks when spoken to, and makes sure to never look in your direction.

so maybe it's those observations that soften his cold, guarded heart and get him to blurt out the boy's name when he sees him get up to refill his drink. you and yunho's eyes widen in surprise when you hear the boy speak, "seonghwa, wait up," and follow after him who politely nods and waits.

"which one do you have?" seonghwa turns to ask mingi but then lets out a small chuckle when he sees his blue tinted lips. "oh. blueberry, i guess."

the taller boy smirks and nods, following behind seonghwa as they fill up their large cups; they both linger there for a few moments, mingi because he's far too nervous to speak up and kind of in disbelief he was able to call after him in the first place, and seonghwa because he's dreading going back to the table.

because listening to you giggle and squeal yeosang's name, being reminded of his stupid, idiotic mistake when he heard you say yeosang was hurting you, is far too hard and embarrassing to deal with today.

especially given the fact that the image of you on top of him has been plaguing his mind for the past 18 hours.

"she's feeling really bad," mingi blurts out suddenly.

it rips seonghwa from his unpleasant thoughts, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at the tall boy. he knows exactly who he's talking about, even probably knew deep down why he decided to come with him in the first place, but still asks "what?"

"y/n," mingi chokes out, swallowing the lump forming in his throat and looking back at their table. "she....it wasn't an easy decision for her."

seonghwa licks his lips, pressing them together because he doesn't know what's about to fly out of his mouth right now. "she came back from the ski trip really confused," mingi adds softly, "and then that movie night, she...was so upset. she cried to us because she knew she hurt you and felt really guilty."

seonghwa listens silently, his grip on the cup tightening as he remembers that disaster of a night. how he went from being so stupidly happy to have you under his arm to the rage and sadness that nearly broke his stupid, reckless heart.

"i'm only telling you this because you seem....sad. and i happened to be on your team before everything."

"my team?" is the first thing seonghwa asks, eyebrow cocked causing a slight blush to creep up on mingi face.

"team seonghwa," the boy mumbles almost childishly causing a loud laugh to bubble out of his mouth.

"well thanks," he says, placing his hand on the back of his neck and squeezing nervously, "i'm glad someone was."

mingi's face falters ever so slightly, licking his dry lips. "she really did like you," he mumbles, "i'm sure a part of her still does. but i don't know, her and him, they just..."

"i know," seonghwa says quietly. "and i can't even say i blame her. because i barely knew her but it felt like i was in-" he can't bring himself to say it because then he'll really look even more pathetic and pitiful.

"love at first sight," mingi mumbles, his eyes trailing back over to the table to look at a certain happy, smiley boy. "it's a stupid thing."

seonghwa's eyebrow quirks up, thinking for a second you got yourself into a love rectangle until he sees where his gaze is looking at. a quiet hum leaves his mouth, lips quirking up before he throws his arm around the boy and pats his shoulder reassuringly.

"it is," seonghwa chuckles out, the two boys walking back over to the table, "but maybe you'll have a better luck then me."

"you might still have a chance," mingi says quietly. because from one bleeding heart to another, he can feel just how much he cares about you and wants you to be happy. how loving and and sweet and amazing he'd probably treat you.

seonghwa watches as he approaches the table yeosang whisper in your ear, his lips lingering on your hair as a smile spreads across your face and you push him away playfully.

he's never seen his friend, who right when he hit puberty was known for being an asshole, smile like that. he's never seen his eyes look so light and soft being directed at a person who matched his look of fondness and affection.

"yeah, maybe," seonghwa mumbles, the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that's probably not the case; but even so, he'll hold on to the hope for just a little longer.

(part 22)

#damn near made this chapter richboy yungi #seonghwa #yeosang #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #yeosang angst #yeosang fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa fic #ateez fic

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once bitten, twice stupid prt.12

Dug up by Shiro, the hunter unburied his face. The ground was cold and damp, not regenerating or refreshing, but Lance stayed there out of sheer stubbornness. The image of Keith’s smug face drifted into his minds eye each time he thought about climbing out. Keeping his eyes closed, playing “dead” didn’t work

“Lance, I’m heading into Platt today”

Hurray! Good for Shiro!

“I’ll be leaving Keith here. He isn’t getting any better and I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can come back”

Nooooooo!

“Lance?”

“Error 404: Vampire not found”

Shiro growled

“This is serious!”

“Your call cannot be connected. Please check the number and try again”

“Lance!”

“Sorry, Lance isn’t home... whaaaa!”

Shiro ripped him upwards by his shirt front, Lance impressed he could pull him up with the weight of dirt across his body

“Why are you being like this?!”

Shiro didn’t need to be so cranky, he just needed to listen with his ears, which Lance was beginning to suspect were for display purposes only

“Because Keith isn’t a vampire”

“I don’t know why you refuse to believe the facts”

Him?! Him! He was the vampire here! He should know if he turned someone!

“Because you’re both stupid! Keith isn’t a vampire! I don’t know how many times I can tell you!”

“I don’t care what you have to do. Keep Keith safe”

“I don’t know if I can, I don’t have kiddy locks on the dangerous stuff”

“Lance. Please. Why are you being like this? Do you not remember what it’s like to love someone? Keith is my family. I’m asking you to guard my one and only brother. Please...”

Jesus. Shiro made him feel like a bag of shit. He’d told the man he wouldn’t be in such a craptastic mood, yet he kept losing his damn temper. If he was in Shiro’s place, he’d probably be an idiot too

“Okay, okay. I’m not going to let him get hurt. But if he hurts himself, that’s on him”

“I need you to stop him from doing that. He’s not in a good place right now. I’m not saying he’d do something intentionally, but I’m not saying he won’t. You don’t have to be his best friend, but maybe if you’re honest with him, he’ll listen”

“I’ve been honest with him... I’ve been so honest with him I had to bury myself to get a moments peace. I don’t think this going to end well”

“For your sake, I hope that it does”

*

Pretending he didn’t have a moping hunter in his guest bedroom, Lance showered before setting himself up in the office. Pidge had been blowing up their group trap, blaming him for the influx of memes she’d spammed the group with thanks to him not replying. Ensuring both his friends he was okay, he put his disappearance down to a cold, covering his arse by slipping in a little white lie about taking a trip to Platt to see a doctor and get the all clear. Seeing it was mostly truth and he wasn’t lying to hurt his friends, the niggle or guilt he felt was minimal. Keeping his replies short, Lance didn’t know what to say to Pidge anymore. The guilt he felt over Matt felt as if he was Atlas with the world upon his shoulders.

As Lance progressed to checking his emails, he found himself annoyed that Keith hadn’t been out to yell at him yet. He’d expected more from him. He’d expected to have a gun pulled on him again as he replied to email after email, confirming he was available to appear via tele-conference in a small time court case that was pretty much agreeing that both parents had signed off on shared custody of their children, and that he’d already submitted the paperwork to social services. He wasn’t charging the family as they’d both come to an amicable agreement and only sought him out to ensure things would run smoothly, after the dad had panicked thanks to a misunderstanding with social services. If only Keith could be as accomodating. Maybe if they could meet half way, all of this would be sorted out within the day, then he could go join Shiro. Having someone in his house was weird, especially when one would assume Keith was the vampire out of the pair of them. He had the sullen brood of pop culture down, as well as the good looks of a protagonist. Wait. Nope. Keith wasn’t that good looking... Great. Now he was having weird thoughts. Keith was nothing to him. He was less than nothing to Keith... he was simply feeling guilty because Shiro had asked him to take care of Keith.

Leaving his office, Lance walked down the hall to the guest bedroom. He summoned up his courage before knocking lightly on the door, not wanting to startle Keith, or wake him if he was sleeping. Getting no reply, Lance opened the door. Keith was sitting on his bed with his blade in his hands, eyes fixed on the weapon

“Uh... Keith?”

“What do you want?”

“I thought maybe you were hungry?”

“I am, but you won’t feed me properly”

“That’s because you’re still a human”

“I’m not! You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Having the last laugh at my expense”

“Keith, I’m not laughing at you”

“Then why won’t you teach me! Why won’t you let Shiro give up on me?!”

What now? That didn’t even make sense

“Keith, you’re the one who believes you’re not human! I keep telling you, you are”

“You can’t be trusted!”

“And you’re a dumbarse!”

“Fuck you! You made me a monster! A filthy bloodsucker like you!”

“I sucked on your gross blood and saved your life! Is it really so hard to believe a vampire could help a hunter?”

“It is when it’s scum like you!”

Lance snapped. Before Keith knew what was happening, Lance had snatched away his blade and thrown it across the room. With a snarl, he hoisted Keith up, throwing him over his shoulder

“Put me down!”

“No! Not until you get it through your head!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Not unless I kill you first”

Keith pounded his fists against Lance’s back as he tried to free himself. Marching out the bedroom and through to the front door, Lance threw it open. In less than second he’d reached the edge of the porch, where he threw Keith out in the sun

“Fucking stay out here until you get a hint!”

Keith curled into a ball, arms up to protect his face, screaming

“It’s burns!”

“The only thing that burns here is my cheeks in second hand embarrassment for you! Think about what you’ve done!”

“It hurts!”

“You’re a human! Huuuuuuu-man!”

Pulling his jacket tighter around him, Lance headed back into his house. He’d give Keith half an hour out there, time enough to work out he wasn’t burning to death, then let him back in. Sure, he could go around in the sun if he wanted, but Keith and Shiro didn’t know that. He was always bundled up layers thanks to fact he perpetually freezing. Maybe he should get his own, strip down to his boxers and go for a walk in the sun just to see their shocked faces? No, that would convince Keith further that he was a vampire.

It was a long half an hour wait, when Lance opened the door, Keith was under the doormat shaking. Grabbing his arm, he dragged the hunter inside

“Are you prepared to listen yet?”

“Just don’t put me out in the sun again...”

“The sun is good for you. It raises your mood and you get your daily dose of vitamin D. Human’s need the sun to keep healthy”

“I don’t want to die”

“You’re not going to”

“But I’m... one of you now”

Lance sighed deeply

“You’re not one of us”

“I am! My body...”

“It’s all in your head”

“It’s not!”

“That’s it. You’re going back out in the sun”

Hefting Keith up again, Lance carried him back outside again, dumping him further from the house this time

“Cool your fucking head down and think about everything that’s happened since you claimed I turned you. You got sick because you poisoned yourself. I got sick because I drank your gross arse blood to suck the fucking mercury out your system. You’re welcome, by the way. Not that I should be helping your stupid arse when you want me dead. You’re not allowed back in the house until you finally come to the conclusion you’re not a goddamn vampire on your own”

“I am! You turned me!”

Lance snapped. Grabbing Keith by the shirt, he snarled in his face

“If you were turned you’d know. You’d be screaming as your blood boiled from the inside. Clawing at your own skin, trying to feel any kind of pain that isn’t your insides bubbling. Begging for death as you piss yourself in the fear and confusion over what’s happening to you. It’s not fucking fun to be turned and it’s not a joke. It hurts. It hurts so bad you scream until your coughing up blood. Your sires holding your down as they poor blood down your throat, as the kick the shit out of you because they can, as the laugh in your face. And the nightmares. The nightmares feel so real, and you’re stuck. You can’t wake up. You can’t call for help. You’re stuck there, with every bad thing in the night that you can think of all taking a piece of you away. You haven’t been turned. I never let my blood get into your system. Don’t make me keep reliving the worst day of my fucking life!”

Dropping Keith, Lance stumbled back, yelling

“Fuck!”

Kicking the doorframe only served to hurt his toes. His hands going to his hair where he gripped firmly. Keith was looking at him... with such... god, he didn’t even know what the expression Keith was wearing was

“Lance...?”

“Just... stay away from me”

*

Shiro had left on foot. Lance unloading his car as he tried to find a way back to keeping a calm head. He’d lost his shit at Keith. Completely and totally like some kind of freak. God. Why was Keith under his skin? He was hopeless, thick, and hot headed. He didn’t understand him, and he didn’t understand why Shiro had left him in his care. That wasn’t normal. Not that Shiro and Keith seemed normal when it came to hunters.

Carting everything to the back of his house, the job was done too fast as he’d neglected to put his glasses back on after scrubbing himself squeaky clean, meaning he wasn’t keeping that side of himself consciously in check. Dirt naps were horrendous for his bathroom’s plumbing. His skin was screaming out for some TLC, he’d cleanse and tone tonight with a nice mug of warm blood and mindless cartoons. First thing first came retrieving his shovel from his shallow grave, the same fucking dandelion that’d ended up on top of the dirt mound now lay on the pavers mocking him, Shiro had left damn boot prints everywhere. His house wasn’t the greatest, but he didn’t need others making it look like a hovel.

Working himself into a sweat, Lance weeded the garden beds within an inch of his life. The manual labour felt good, his arm didn’t hurt at all, so he didn’t feel bad about disobeying Allura’s orders. As the sun was lowering, Lance felt eyes on his back, flicking his gaze over his shoulder, Keith stood in the doorway, arms crossed and grumpy expression on his face

“If it isn’t the vampire wannabe. What did I do wrong this time?”

“I want to fight you”

Lance looked back to his pansies. They hadn’t appreciated being left in the car overnight. The poor things didn’t look like they wanted to perk back up

“Pass”

“You say I’m not a vampire, but something’s changed in my body. I want to fight you”

“Nope. I’m good. If you want to start sweeping up, I wouldn’t say no to that”

“Fucking fight me!”

Lance closed his eyes, starting to hum

“Don’t ignore me!”

Humming louder, Keith didn’t take too kindly to it. Striding over, he grabbed Lance by the back of his jacket and yanked him back to

“Oi! Hands off the merchandise!”

“Fight me!”

He might as well humour him. Keith had limited brain cells as it was, the mercury wouldn’t have helped that

“Why?”

“Because I can’t understand you!”

“Stop yelling at me! You don’t need to yell, I can hear you even if I don’t want to”

“You’ve done something to me, and I need to know what it is!”

“I’ve saved your damn life. Despite my own best interests. I tried to be a good host and you ruined my fucking life for it. I’d rather just sit here and play in my garden”

“Either you fight me, or I’ll kill you”

Lance couldn’t hide the smirk in his voice

“That worked so well for you last time”

Keith kicked him hard in the top of Lance’s leg

“Fight me!”

“No”

“Fight me!”

“Nope”

“I’ll tell Shiro”

Lance gaped

“How old are you? Is this your usual shtick? Running to Shiro. He’s worried as hell about you. He’s exhausting every resource he can to help you”

“You’re the one who turned me, you have to help me”

“The only thing I’ve done is apparently turn you into an idiot!”

“Fight me and I’ll drop it”

Lance jerked back as he pulled a face

“What kind of logic is that?”

“If I’m not as strong and fast as you I’ll know one way or another”

“Can’t we be civil and talk this over, over a nice hot cup of tea”

“Fight me!”

God. This wasn’t going to end well

“Fine. Just let me wash my hands first, and put the sprinklers on these poor babies”

“Fine!”

Keith had gone all out, mask and everything as they stood on the back lawn. Both blades were in his hands, gun on his belt like he’d actually have time for it if Lance was fighting for real

“How is this going to work?”

“It’s over once I drop your sorry arse!”

Lance was sorely tempted to drop his own sorry arse on the lawn and take a nap

“And if you don’t?”

“Then, I don’t know. Stop trying to put me off!”

“If you don’t win, you have to eat whatever I cook tonight. That’s the deal”

“Fine! Whatever! Come at me!”

It may have been slightly insulting to walk up to Keith. Flicking him in the forehead sent Keith’s face red

“Don’t underestimate me!”

Damn if this man didn’t like yelling. Leaping back nimbly, Lance faked enough to drop his stance like this was actually going to be anything more than Keith making a fool of himself

“Come get me then”

Keith charged, Lance dodging every blow sent his way. The man fought without restraint, eyes narrowed as he tried to predict Lance’s moves, constantly on the offence yet trying to throw up his defence at the same time. Keith had some skill... which was probably okay when he was teamed with others, alone... well, he needed longer to develop those skills if he hoped to become a seasoned hunter. Giving him a few minutes of his time, Lance ended their first fight by taking Keith by the arm and throwing him down over his shoulder. Laying there with his chest heaving, Keith looked royally pissed

“Score one for me. I hope you like steak, I’m in the mood for a nice steak dinner”

“Again!”

“What?”

“Fight me again”

“Look, that wasn’t the agreement. Now go wash up for dinner”

“Just fight me again”

“Tomorrow, if we really have to. You’re still recovering from the last dumb thing you did”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid! I can take it!”

“Part of being an adult is knowing your own limits. You won’t get any better if you keep throwing yourself into an attack. Look, to be frank, right now I’m wondering how you ended up as a hunter. This isn’t an easy life, you’re...”

“Stop talking like you know everything! Fight me”

“Keith...”

What was he supposed to do with a hunter? Keith wasn’t his child. He was a grown man. Who’d failed the first mission he led. His ego probably wouldn’t let him accept a simple defeat

“... tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll help you with your training. Just so you know, I’ve never been much for fighting. I’ve got a work call that I absolutely have to make, but, tomorrow I will make time to help you”

“I don’t need help, I need to fight”

“Shiro said to take care of you, letting you work yourself to point of collapse isn’t going to bring him back any faster, or make you feel any better”

“You don’t get it...”

“You’re right, I have no idea what’s going on with that brain cell rocketing around your mulletted head. But before you start screaming at me again, I think you need to sit down and have a good hard think about your actions. The bathrooms on a seperate water in supply. We’ll both get cleaned up, then you’re having dinner because that was the deal”

“Fuck you! I don’t need your charity!”

“Then you get your bony arse out my house”

Why he’d volunteered himself to help Keith was beyond Lance. The man hated him, so why bother? Stupid Keith and his stupid mullet needed to cool off and clean himself up. Lance prayed to god that Keith finally got the message that he wasn’t a damn vampire.

#once bitten twice stupid #ashratherose #vld au

[sockablock]

Made up fic title: Running On Empty

On the first night, Beauregard has a dream.

It’s nothing too extraordinary, all things considered, nothing like the prophecies and destinies and visions that plague the resting hours of her friends. After all, Beau’s always just been a simple girl, and that doesn’t change when her eyes are closed.

She barely even remembers what she sees. The clash of metal, the spray of blood, something in the distance grinning wide, and then dark.

The next morning, she wakes up slowly, a bit uneasy. But her friends are already up and about, breaking camp, Caduceus has already hitched up the horses and Jester’s threatening to collapse their tent over her head.

“Fuck you,” says Beau, and ties her hair up in its place. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

+++

On the second night, after a long day’s travel, they pull over off the side of the road and go about the business of getting ready for the night.

Beau takes first watch, with Fjord lounging lazily at her side. His eyes glow yellow in the firelight. He has a stalk of wheat pinched between his lips and he leans against the base of their log. Beau asks him to say “tarnation,” and he kindly, amicably, flips her off. 

Afterwards, they wake up Caleb and Nott and head off to their respective tents for some rest. And after Beau steps over Jester and lets down her hair and tucks herself into the warm comfort of her bedroll, the dream finds her again.

This time, she remembers just a little bit more:

The air is thick with rain, nearing sleet. The grass underfoot is scorched and dead. Her tongue tastes like iron, and pain, and fear, and her fists are blue with bruising, and a chill. 

There are shapes at her side. One is lying the grass. Another, staggering, back hitting a tree, then collapsing. Somehow, she knows, that across the field, the others in their group aren’t doing much better—

She does not sleep very well that night. She wakes up yawning, even later than before, to find Jester peering at her intently.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice tinged with concern. “You aren’t sick, are you?”

Thankfully, at least, through the fog of exhaustion, Beau’s tongue is just as quick as ever.

“A girl can’t sleep in?” she demands. “Your snoring was keeping me up all night.”

Jester’s expression is a mix of frustration and annoyance.

“Fine,” she huffs, turning to leave. “I was just worried, is all.”

Beau feels terrible almost immediately.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, straightening up and sighing. “I had a bad dream, is all.”

Jester, mollified, quickly looks back.

“Are you sure?” she asks, the worry creeping back. “You know that you can always talk to me, right?”

Beau gives her a grin.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just give me a second, and I’ll help you pack our stuff.”

+++

On the third night, there is more.

Now the metal sounds like nails scratching against a window, and each drop of rain smells suspiciously of blood. Even worse than that, though, is when Beau turns her head just slightly to the left and notices that there are even more fallen figures this time. Their eyes wide open and unlooking, towards the sky.

A pair lavender, a pair blue, one glowing yellow and one crimson r—

That night, she snaps awake. 

Her heavy breathing fills the small space in their tent. She quickly clamps a hand over her mouth, forces herself to be steady and be still. She doesn’t want to wake Jes up and she doesn’t want to bother anyone else, best to keep this to herself especially when it’s really nothing to worry ab—

She takes a long, long, long inhale. She lets it go. She waits for the shaking to stop. She does not lie back down.

+++

“What’s up with you?” Nott asks, hours later, as they’re circling through some trees. Their voyage up to the frozen wastes of Icehaven is going by fast, but there’s still lots of downtime to be had as they travel. Their horses cannot be pushed too hard, and Caduceus insists that their mounts need breaks.

None of them disagree. He’s usually right about these things, anyways.

“Nothing’s up with me,” snaps Beau, and ducks beneath a branch, trying to keep up with Nott. The two of them are scouting for a stream, or really for anything interesting and worth exploring.

“You’re slow,” says the little goblin, as she leaps over a boulder. “You’re usually even faster than me.”

“I’m not,” says Beau, rolling her eyes. “This is my…this is my normal pace. When I’m being stealthy, that is.”

Then she steps on a branch, and the splintering wood echoes through the forest.

Nott, from atop another rock, turns back and frowns.

“Sure,” she says. “Stealthy.”

Beau waves an impatient hand. “Of course, I can’t get it right if you keep talking. Just shut up and lead, alright?”

Nott’s eyebrows go up. But she studies Beau’s furious expression, and decides, that for now, it would probably be best to drop it.

“Sure,” she shrugs, and hopes down from her perch. “Just don’t fall behind, okay?”

+++

On the fourth night, Beau slips into her bedroll as her stomach churns with dread. There is no relief in knowing that she will not be surprised by what will come.

Seeing her fallen companions has not gotten any easier. The flash of that familiar, wicked smile, grips her mind. 

But you killed him, she reminds herself. You watched him burn.

There will be more like me, says Lorenzo. There will always be more. 

And then there’s a feeling like a glaive through the chest.

One day soon, that’ll be just enough.

+++

They get into a fight the next afternoon, as they are often wont to do. Really, Beau is surprised it’s taken this long. The previous night’s words are ringing heavy in her ears, heavier even when her sluggish fists fail to land against the steely bark of the treant. It roars with anger, then slams a limb into her stomach, and she flies back through the low branches into a trunk. Luckily, Caduceus is around to heal her soon, but not before she slumps down and coughs up blood.

“Are you okay?!” Fjord shouts over the noise. “Do you need assistance?”

“Shut up and fight!” Beau screams back. “I’m fine! I’m just f—”

+++

When she wakes up, it is to faces staring intently back at hers. It takes Beau a few seconds to process this, and then she just groans and puts her hand against her head.

“How long was I down?” she asks, wincing from the pain. “And—ow—and how badass did I look?”

“Is now really the time for that?” Caleb sighs. “You almost died.”

“And yet, here I am. Funny, huh?”

“We were worried about you,” Yasha says. “You went down much too easily.”

Beau shrugs. It’s an easy gesture, though in the moment, it feels impossible.

“I guess that tree was sturdier than it looked. You, uh, you handled it, right?”

Nott points over Beau’s shoulder. She turns and sees, in the clearing, a charred hunk of broken, splintered wood.

Beau nods at this. She turns back around.

“Awesome. So are we going now, or what?”

“Not before we have a talk,” Fjord says. “Seriously. Is everything okay? You’ve been…kind of weird, lately.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Caduceus agrees. “You seem exhausted, what’s going on?”

Beau’s eyes narrow. She opens her mouth to give a snappish response, even straightens up and tries to stand, but instantly there’s a rush of nausea and she almost collapses right then and there into Fjord’s arms.

Which would have been bad, because she probably would’ve taken him down too.

But then there’s a different hand on Beau’s arm. Soft, and blue, and Beau looks up, and sees Jester.

She says, “Guys, back off for a second.”

There’s a pause. The rest of the Nein exchange glances. And then, as one, they break away, and head for the treant.

“We will let you know if it’s got anything good,” Caleb says as they go. 

“Good?” Fjord asks. “What, do you think it’s got a wallet?”

Nott smacks him on the arm, and then they eventually leave earshot.

Jester looks at Beau, who stares back. Her expression is a special mix of defiance and trepidation. 

Jester sighs. 

She flops down into the grass.

“Alright. Alright, alright, alright,” she says, and carefully angles her face to the sky. As if avoiding eye contact would make this easier.

“Beau…you know we have to talk now, right?”

Beau groans. She does this fun thing where she rolls over onto her stomach and buries her face into some dandelions. 

“Do we have to?”

“You almost died.”

This, evidently, is enough to make Beau groan again. She reaches up and puts her hands over her head.

“I’m just tired,” she says. “That’s really all. I swear, that’s it.”

“That’s enough to be a big problem, though,” Jester says. “I mean…I’m a cleric, I can tell that Cad is right. You are exhausted. Way more than a normal person should be.”

There’s a muffled response from Beau. Jester leans in, and raises her eyebrows.

“Sorry, what?” she asks again. “What did you s—”

“That’s the problem!” screams Beau, throwing herself up and nearly colliding with a pair of horns. Grass goes flying and a few golden petals careen through the air. “That’s the fucking problem! I’m normal! And there’s fuckall I can do when you guys are really in danger. I mean, fuck, Jes, fuck, last time…last time…I basically let it happen. I was too fucking far away to help, and I just…I just…I just stood there, and watched him die.”

They fall silent.

Clouds drift overhead. Beau’s angry breathing rolls around them in waves. And then she just sighs and tucks in her knees. She lowers her chin, and wraps an arm around her legs.

“It’s stupid,” she says. “It’s just…just…dumb insecurity, or something. I dunno why. I guess lately I’ve been worried about all your safety, or whatever. And…and…I mean, fuck, I know you guys can take care of yourselves.”

For a long, long pause, neither of them move. A breeze runs into the clearing, tousles their hair, then disappears through the trees.

And then, Jester leans in close.

She puts a hand around Beau’s shoulders. She lets her friend lean against her side.

She says:

“I’m sorry you feel like that. It’s…it sucks. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Jester shrugs. “But it’s not yours either.”

They sit there in the quiet for a few moments longer.

“I don’t know why it’s all of a sudden,” Beau mumbles. “I mean, gods, there’s no point in worrying. We’ve taken on so many fucking things, since then. But…for some reason, for no reason, at all, I just started thinking about everything that happened. And I’m worried it’ll happen to the rest of you. I…I don’t want to think about what would happen if I, uh, if I…lost you.”

Jester nods. Her horn charms jingle softly.

“I get that,” she murmurs. “I do. It…sometimes I’m afraid that I’ll go down in a fight, and then there’ll be nobody around to heal us. Though, then I remember that we have Cad, and it makes me feel less bad?”

“That makes sense,” Beau snorts. “That’s good logic.”

“Thanks,” Jester giggles. Then her smiles fades slightly, and she adds, “But fear doesn’t care about logic, does it? Because you know that we’re real badasses, and you know that things are different, now. We have killed so many crazy things and we’ve all made it through together. You know that. But sometimes it’s hard to feel it, to really know it, right?”

Beau manages a faint smile. She gives a slow nod.

“You’re a lot wiser than we give you credit for.”

Jester grins. “I know.”

“But how do I fix this?” Beau mumbles. “How do I convince my stupid brain that it’s okay? How to I…how do I heal this, or whatever?”

Jester hums thoughtfully. She mulls this one over.

And then slowly, very slowly, she reaches down into the grass. She picks up a dandelion, and tucks it behind Beau’s ear.

“Hang on,” she says. “I think I have an idea.”

Beau raises an eyebrow. “What sort?” she asks.

Jester gives a grin.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.

The little blue tiefling shoots up onto her heels. She runs over towards the others, who had gathered around the treant and had spent the last few minutes poking at its charred husk. She pulls them down into a huddle, and very quickly, they all start to whisper. 

There is a part of Beau, a very old part,  the part that remembers Mother in the parlors, with those dumb little teacups and those stupid, gossipy friends, a part that knows instantly that they are talking about her, and hates it.

But a different part of her, newer but much larger, reaches up and touches the dandelion. She takes a slow breath. She waits.

When Jester comes back, it is with all their friends in hand. Beau scarcely has time to say anything, barely has a second to raise an eyebrow and ask what’s happening, before the entire party descends on her and they all flop into a heap on the ground. Her head is suddenly against Yasha’s leg and Jester is lying across her stomach, she’s pressed against Caleb’s side and Nott’s by her head and Fjord and Caduceus tickle her shoulders, the entire group has suddenly become just a pile of bodies lying down in the grass in the middle of a random clearing in the woods.

The sun is shining gently above them. The dandelions sway in the breeze.

There’s a pause. Then Beau says, “What the fuck?”

From around the area of her bellybutton, Jester pipes up.

“We’re taking a nap together,” she says. “All of us, like this. You can feel us, right?”

“I can feel a little too much,” comes Fjord’s voice. “Nott, your elbows are digging into my leg.”

“Tough luck,” is the response, “we can deal with your problems later”

Jester laughs, and Beau can feel her shake her head.

“I think, if we are all together like this, it might help convince you that we are all okay,” the little tiefling explains. “Or, maybe it’ll help you feel more secure. And to make that even extra secure…”

“Hang…hang on…” comes Caleb’s voice. It is faint, and a bit distracted, but after twenty seconds of silence go by, there is a sudden whoosh of air as a familiar bubble goes up around them, a circular dome of protective energy that bursts to life over their heads. It shimmers with a translucent magical sheen, allowing them to see outside, reminding them that it is still there.

“Tiny hut,” Caleb supplies helpfully. “It has been a while since the last one, eh? I, ah, I apologize for that.”

“You don’t…have to,” Beau says slowly. “I get it, you need to save your energy, and we haven’t been attacked in a while—”

“Still,” says Caleb. “This is important.”

None of the others say anything right away. They all seem to be silent, waiting, for Beau’s answer.

For a while, she just lies there in the grass, unmoving. She sees white clouds above them, across the blue sky. She basks in the the sweet scent of spring flowers. She can hear a bird singing somewhere in the distance, a soothing melody that carries in the wind.

She can feel the warmth of her friends all around her. She can even feel a couple of their heartbeats. The dandelion in her hair tickles against her ear.

“T…thanks,” she mumbles. “You guys, I…thanks.”

There’s a few chuckles, and some giggling.

Jester murmurs, “Of course.”

And then, eventually, finally, after so long, sinking into the warmth of her friends at her side, Beauregard slowly lets herself take a breath.

She lets it go.

She shuts her eyes.

#thank you thank you thank you so much for this prompt!!! #critical role #critfic #cr2 #beauregard #critrole #jay answers #jay writes #long post #fic #fanfiction #text #super duper long #so so sorry if the cut doesn't work!!! #team as family #title prompts! #<333333 #mooberg

[sunyoonandstars]

BTS One Shot: Coffee After Eight || You x Yoongi

So, this one shot is based on a request made by the lovely @thedawnsky 💜Thanks for the inspiration and giving me the opportunity to write about Yoongi yet again. 🙏🏻 I just love him so much and making up these little scenarios is simply the best pastime ever.

I hope you like it! 💜 Enjoy and thanks for reading!

************************************************

Scenario Yoongi has had a crush on you for years now, his feelings, though, by now having outgrown mere infatuation. Your protective older brother Jin, however, strongly disapproves  … But will his deprecation be enough to hold Yoongi back?

„My intentions?“, he echoes, a low chuckle escaping his throat, leading your brows to knit, a distinctive crease forming in between them. „Well, y/n“, Yoongi continues, leaning back in his chair, licking his lips while his eyes stay locked with yours. „My intentions are quite obvious, I believe.“ „I’m not so sure they are, though“, you shrug. „Do you actually want me to spell it out?“

angst, fluff

Word count 2.650

Coffee After Eight

„Yah! Min Yoongi!“

The aforementioned involuntarily flinches at the deafening bang with which the door to his room is now being thrown open, the momentum causing it to hit the wall and leave a visible dent. Sprawled out on his bed, head resting on his folded arms, Yoongi does not even bother to lift his gaze in order to meet the glare of the intruder, though, as Kim Seokjin now plants himself in front of him. 

„What do you think you’re doing, flirting with my sister!? Y/n is so off limits for you, I don’t even know where to start when listing all the reasons you should stay the hell away from her!“ 

„What!?“, a perplexed Yoongi calls out, at the mere mention of you incapable of keeping his cool any longer, even going on to open an eye now, angrily blinking up at Jin. „What the heck is that supposed to mean?“

„Oh, come on, Yoongi. You’re no angel. Stop playing the innocent. You know exactly what I’m talking about.“

Red-eared, brows furrowed, hands on his hips, the elder one stares down at him, impatiently tapping his foot. 

„Why do you even care?“, Yoongi simply replies, eyes tightly shut again, trying hard to keep his tone indifferent and not let on that Jin’s words actually struck a nerve, having decided on going for defense, for now, to exercise his well-tried camouflage tactic and not reveal even so much as a hint of his true emotions. A move that has become a reflexive habit to him by now. 

„First of all, whom I flirt with is none of your goddamn business“, he goes on, demonstratively turning his back at Jin and nestling into his pillow as if he didn’t have a care in the world. What a lie. „And secondly, y/n is a grown woman. Let her make her own choices. Now leave me be for fuck’s sake. I’m tired and really not in the mood for this kind of crap, Seokjin.“ 

Nostrils flaring, Jin remains standing by Yoongi’s bedside for another few seconds, struggling for words, quietly shaking his head at his friend’s apparent indifference. 

„Sometimes I’m not even sure anymore if you actually mean what you say, Min Yoongi“, he commences anew, finally having retrieved his ability to speak. „I believed you to be a caring and considerate individual underneath that tough guy facade. But if you won’t take this seriously, I’m afraid I was mistaken. As a friend and a brother I sincerely ask you, Yoongi, no, even beg you, to spare both of you the trouble and heartache and just leave my little sister alone. Please. Y/n doesn’t deserve to go through something like this again. She’s barely even gotten over her last toxic relationship and you’re already moving in on her. And what’s even worse is that she might actually like you. I’m not sure, but when she told me you asked her to come to your studio and listen to your new mixtape, just the two of you … I think she seemed genuinely excited.“

Yoongi, his back still to Jin, can’t help but smile to himself at the notion of you actually considering to take him up on his offer and even looking forward to it. Although Jin’s words do affect him, he has to unwillingly acknowledge to himself. Intrigued by the mention of your troubling past romances, he now starts listening more attentively, curious as to why you never mentioned anything about them to him all the times you sat together at the dorm over a cup of coffee or a can of beer, talking for hours on end or simply spending them in amicable silence. 

„Yoongi? Are you even listening? Did you seriously fall asleep?“

Frozen, holding his breath, Yoongi remains quiet, afraid to show he, as a matter of fact, indeed does care. About you. About Jin’s concerns. And about the truth behind them. 

„Anyway, her past relationships weren’t healthy and the most recent one ended very badly. The guy was a mess and, quite frankly, an asshole. He didn’t treat her right. Y/n pretends to be tough, and she actually is in a way. I believe she can handle almost anything thrown her way. But nobody can be strong all the time. Her heart is more delicate than she’d care to admit, and it has been broken too many times already. So, please, don’t hurt her. Don’t even think about getting involved with her. I know it wouldn’t end well. The two of you are too similar. She, too, always tries to keep her distance and keep up an air of indifference to try and protect herself. So, agreeing to stop by your studio is like a huge deal for her. She basically just let you in. And it’s not good. Because we both know you couldn't be serious about her right now, even if you wanted to. We’re idols, Yoongi. And we’re big right now. Any dating rumors would only harm you and her alike. And you would barely be able to make time to see her once in a while, let alone get to know her. You know it’s true. So, please, I beg you to respect her and my wish and just put an end to this before it actually becomes a thing.“

By now, Yoongi barely manages to breathe, his chest tightening by the second, jaw and fists clenched, his every muscle tensed and eyes wide open, burning with unshed tears of anger as he stares at the blank wall. Because, yes, he does know Seokjin’s words to be true. Nonetheless, he can’t deny his feelings for you which by now have blossomed into something exceeding a mere crush by far. Yet, his close friend pleading with him in such a manner, pouring out his heart and appealing to his conscience does not leave him cold. Yoongi is torn. And being smothered by the guilt creeping up on him in respect of the decision he already made. 

„Okay, I have no idea if you’re even still listening“, Jin now sighs. „But I said what I needed to say, so I’m gonna leave now. By the way, in case you actually slept through my little talk, I recorded it and sent it to your phone. Because I cannot stress enough how important this is to me. Anyway. I’ll go now. Think about my words, Yoongi.“

Still remaining motionless, Yoongi listens to the sound of Jin’s steps slowly fading out as the older one departs, shutting the door behind him. 

Think about Jin’s words he did. 

But they won’t change a thing. 

Because his mind is already set. 

Yoongi won’t give up on you. 

Not just yet.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

As soon as he is sure Jin has left, Yoongi sits up in his bed, his heart racing, breathing shallow, a lump stuck in his throat, seemingly threatening to suffocate him. 

With trembling hands, he reaches for his phone, not even knowing why exactly it is that, after months have passed without any similar occurrences, an anxiety attack is now suddenly about to get the better of him. 

Deep, calm breaths, he tries to remind himself. 

In and out. In and out.

Almost automatically, his fingers dance across the phone’s bright display, dialing your number. 

Right now, he needs to hear his voice. Desperately. Even though he literally hates the fact that he’d need anything or anybody, really. Yoongi can’t help but long for the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears, missing the way you speak and string out your words to buy time whenever you’re unsure of what to say or how to put it. 

But his call goes unanswered. So does the next one and the following one. 

You won’t pick up. 

He can feel a dangerous mixture of anger and exasperation brew within his heaving chest, making it even harder for him to draw a simple breath. 

Yoongi’s heart then skips a beat when suddenly, unexpectedly, a text message from you pops up onscreen.

Your words leave a bitter taste in Yoongi’s mouth. 

And even more so your tone. He knows that tone. He knows it all too well. It’s almost as if he were talking to himself. A scared, defeated version of himself, glooming about the fact that he’d once again given in to those overwhelming doubts and anxious thoughts terrorizing his mind and body. A state he can picture you in very well right this instant. The thought that he or his actions towards you may have been the cause of your sudden withdrawal pains Yoongi to an extent where he is unable to simply sit idly by for even one further second. 

Already heading for the front door, he whips on the first available jacket he manages to grab from the coat rack on his way out, barely even stopping to tie his shoes before he rushes downstairs, eagerly typing out another message to you.

Yoongi can’t keep his jaw from dropping in light of the sight he’s faced with now that he’s finally standing right before bare-faced, messy-haired, puffy-eyed, sweatpants-wearing you, looking more stunning than ever. 

Reluctantly, you further open your door and indicate him to enter your tiny apartment, eyes cast down, avoiding his gaze.  

„What is so important you had to come all the way over here?“, you ask with ostensible nonchalance. 

Without waiting for Yoongi to lose his shoes and catch up, you lead the way to your poky kitchen where you take a seat at the table by the window, immediately busying your hands with a half-empty cup of a still steaming liquid, coffee judging by the smell of it. 

„You want some?“, you inquire a little too hastily as soon as Yoongi crosses the doorstep, without meeting his eyes, though. „Coffee? I just made some.“

„This time of night?“, he wonders aloud, the corner of his mouth slightly twitching up in amusement about your obvious awkwardness. 

„It’s barely eight“, you scoff, sliding him a guarded look. „I’m a night person, I thought you knew?“

„I do. I do.“

„Okay. So, do you want coffee or not?“

„I do.“

„Great.“

If he isn’t mistaken, Yoongi can make out the hint of a grin tugging at your lips just now as you quickly get up and brush past him towards the kitchen counter to pick up a pot of freshly brewed coffee and pour him a cup. 

„Here“, you thrust it into his hand without even looking, an obvious blush tinting your cheeks. 

„Thank you very much.“

„Are you just gonna stand there all night long?“, you snarl at him, already sitting down again, letting your hair fall in front of your face to shield it from Yoongi’s curious looks. „Take a seat. Or don’t. I actually don’t care. Just … why are you here, Yoongi? I told you not to come.“

„Yeah, I know“, he sighs, taking a seat across from you. „And I’m sorry I didn't respect your wish. But I simply couldn’t. I think there’s been some kind of a misunderstanding.“

„A misunderstanding?“, you finally lift your head and throw him a questioning glance. „And what kind of a misunderstanding would that be?“

„I think your brother got it all wrong.“

„Did he now?“, you raise a brow at him, almost scornfully. 

Warily, Yoongi takes a sip of the still hot coffee, savoring it. 

„You sure know how to brew decent coffee.“

„Thanks, I guess. But that’s not the point right now.“

„Still, I like that in a woman. I basically run on caffeine.“

„I know. But —“ You pause to aggressively chew on your lower lip which already looks sore. Yoongi can’t help but notice your knee nervously rocking up and down beneath the table top. He pities you in your state and wishes nothing more than to relieve you of your anxiety. Yet, everything he did or said tonight seemed to only make it worse. So he decides on remaining quiet and giving you time to collect your thoughts instead. 

Minutes go by in silence until you eventually lift your gaze from your coffee mug to meet Yoongi’s expectant eyes for the very first time this evening. 

„What inspired you to come here tonight, Min Yoongi? I want a direct, honest answer, no bullshit. No evasive sarcasm. The truth and nothing but the truth. What are your intentions?“ 

„My intentions?“, he echoes, a low chuckle escaping his throat, leading your brows to knit, a distinctive crease forming in between them. 

„Well, y/n“, Yoongi continues, leaning back in his chair, licking his lips while his eyes stay locked with yours. „My intentions are quite obvious, I believe.“

„I’m not so sure they are, though“, you shrug. 

„Do you actually want me to spell it out?“, he groans. „Y/n, I think you know me well enough by now to be aware of the fact that I’m not good with all that touchy-feely crap and expressing my emotions.“

„No kidding!“, you laugh, letting your guard down for just the blink of an eye what you immediately seem to regret as your features soon freeze into an enigmatic mask of inexpressiveness again. 

„Well, what do you wanna hear, y/n? That I rushed over here in a panic because I knew you were upset? Because I wanted to make sure you’re all right? And because I was afraid I’d lose my last chance at being with you if I didn’t?“

By all indications sincerely incredulous, you stare at him, brows arched, your eyes getting bigger with each word he says.

„What?“, he scoffs. „Does that sound so incredible to you?“

„Well … No. Not exactly, I guess. It’s just …“

Swallowing hard, you lower your gaze again, avoiding his, putting your hands to your reddening cheeks in a vain effort to cool them. 

„What? You didn’t think I was serious about you, y/n? Is that it?“

You shrug your shoulders in response, hiding your face behind a protective curtain of hair once again. 

„Y/n, seriously!? I’ve known you for, what, seven years now? Your Seokjin’s baby sister. What the hell would make you think I’d fuck around with you?“

„Now that you’re putting it like this …“, you mumble. 

„I would never do such a thing, y/n. I care about you. I like you, all right? There, said it. Happy now?“ 

When you look up at him, a sly smirk is curving Yoongi’s glossy lips, his eyes still fixed on you, his head slightly tilted while he takes in each and every one of your subconscious gestures, analyzing what your body is telling you and your lips are too afraid to speak. 

„Come on, y/n, you can’t be that surprised, really“, he mutters, his voice low now. Grinning, he leans over the table, slowly putting out his hand to reach for yours which had been anxiously rapping on the table for the last minute without any discernible rhythm to the repetitive movement. 

„This is driving me crazy, y/n“, he grins as his hand covers yours entirely now, bringing its rapid motion to a stop. „There’s no cadence to it at all. If you really need to make noise, do it right next time.“ 

„Sorry“, you apologize instinctively, your voice hoarse, cracking even, Yoongi’s touch sending a million tiny electric shocks throughout your entire body, leading your heart rate to accelerate and your throat to close up. 

Yoongi, too, is startled by the impact the mere sensation of your skin on his apparently has on his organism, his fingers starting to move intuitively, almost by themselves, gently stroking the silky-soft back of your hand, drawing circular patterns, invisible yet leaving searing hot traces on your sensitive skin. Both your eyes are fixed on your hands, in awe at their interaction, as your fingers now naturally intertwine. 

Slowly, hesitantly, you look up to meet Yoongi’s eyes, gleaming brightly with excitement and expectation. 

„So, y/n, what do you think? Should we give this a try?“ 

************************************************

I hope you liked it and are having a nice day, wherever you are! Thanks for reading! Take care! 💜

Here you can find my Masterlist if you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction!

All GIFs used are NOT mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

© 2018 @a-r-m-y-g-i-r-l ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

#bts #bts fiction #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts one shot #bts scenario #bts fake texts #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts angst #bts fluff #bts yoongi #bts yoongi one shot #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi scenario #bts yoongi reaction #bts yoongi angst #bts yoongi fluff #bts yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x you #soft yoongi #min yoongi #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi one shot #min yoongi scenarios #min yoongi reaction #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi fake texts

[ibelongtonegan]

The Argument (Negan one-shot)

All right, so this all started out with a scene from Extant, where JDM’s character, JD Richter is trying to stop his daughter from leaving the house by slamming his hand on the door above her head… This scene got me thinking and it turned into this naughty little Negan one-shot…

Summary: you are one of Negan’s wives and have a heated argument with him leading to hot, rough make-up sex…

Characters: Negan x Reader, Lissa (OFC, one of Negan’s wives), Simon and Negan’s other wives make a cameo as well

Word count: 4,091

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut (breath play, mild coercion, mild restraint, rough sex, vaginal sex), swearing

Tags: @negans-network

You can read this fic on AO3 as well.

“That’s enough, Negan! I’m done with you!”

You were yelling at the top of your lungs at your husband, not being able to control your anger anymore. You were tired of him and his games. It had been three months since you agreed to become his wife but your marriage was anything but perfect. He barely had time for you, and even when you were together, you most certainly didn’t act like a normal couple. Not that your marriage could be labelled as normal, far from it.

Your husband was Negan, the leader of the Sanctuary, a factory complex that provided shelter for a few hundred of survivors of the apocalypse, who in return for safety, worked for him. Negan did not rule these people only: he made several communities of survivors in the area provide for him, through weekly offerings of food, guns, supplies, or whatever they could scavenge or produce in exchange for protection. But Negan was busy with other things too: he had five other wives beside you.

Initially you found the idea of becoming one of his wives crazy. Join his harem and share him with other women? You didn’t want to hear any of it. But Negan was a very persuasive man. If he wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. And he wanted you, badly. He did everything in his power to make you succumb to him and ultimately you couldn’t resist his charms anymore and agreed to marry him. Not that you actually had a proper wedding ceremony let alone a honeymoon. Such luxuries were not possible in the apocalypse. You exchanged vows in private and from the moment you said yes to him, your were his wife. His sixth. Thinking back on it now three months later, you had regretted your decision.

You were far from being happy in this marriage. You loved Negan, with all your heart and hoped that he loved you too, in his own way at least. But even if he loved you, he had five other wives and you couldn’t help but feel jealous of them. Negan tried to spend equal amount of nights with all of you, with Saturday usually being “your night” every week. But Negan didn’t follow anybody’s rules, but his own. He started to deviate from the schedule recently by picking another wife on Saturdays instead of you, and there was nothing that you could do about it. You tried to seduce, beg and fight him, but all your efforts were in vain, he couldn’t be persuaded in any way.

Despite the absurdity of the situation, you had a fairly good relationship with the other wives. You were all competing for the affections of Negan, but still got along relatively well with each other, well, at least most of the time. You were especially close with Lissa, Negan’s fifth wife for she took you under her wing when you married Negan and helped you settle in at your new home. She was the only person you trusted with your secrets and the only person who knew about your frustration with your husband.  

It was Saturday evening and you were all resting in the lounge area of the wives’ quarters, waiting for Simon, Negan’s right-hand man to arrive and announce Negan’s pick for the night. Sherry and Frankie were chatting amicably, Amber was reading a gossip magazine with a lollipop between her lips, Tanya was sipping on a cup of tea and Lissa was busy painting her nails a deep shade of ruby red. You were reading your favourite novel but could hardly pay attention to the story with your thoughts wandering around Negan. Biting your lip nervously you looked up to the silver clock on the wall, for the hundredth time in the last hour. Simon could be here any minute. You were wearing your favourite white shirt, navy miniskirt and that gorgeous pair of navy stilettos Negan gave you for your birthday. You put on some dark eye-shadow and a beautiful nude shade of lip gloss to complement your look. You looked good. Hell, not only good, but thoroughly fuckable and you most definitely were down to fuck, finally.

You held your breath when Simon appeared at the door, making your heartbeat quicken. Negan had spent the last two Saturdays with Amber and you missed him. You missed his touch on your skin, his lips teasing your body and the way he felt inside you. But Simon did not stop at your chair but walked over to Amber lounging on the couch and told her to get ready and meet Negan in his room in half an hour.

“What the hell, Simon? It’s Saturday!” you jumped up from your seat abruptly. The other wives stopped what they were doing and were staring at you in shock. They have never seen you act like this before.

“Easy, Y/N. I’m only following Negan’s orders. If you have a problem with that, you should talk to him about it,” Simon replied nonchalantly and left the room.

Keeping her eyes on the magazine Amber started twisting a strand of her blonde hair around one finger. The artificial fruity scent of her lollipop invaded your nose.

“Looks like somebody is jealous,” she muttered under her breath.

While beating the shit out of Amber in retaliation was a seriously tempting idea, you dismissed it quickly and decided to do just as Simon suggested: go and talk to Negan.

You threw your book down on the table and stormed out of the lounge heading straight to Negan’s room that was located at the other end of the corridor.

“Y/N, wait! You cannot just go to him now!” Lissa called after you, but you barely heard her due to the cloud of anger enveloping you.

Your furious steps echoed in the hallway, the heels of your stilettos clicking against the concrete floor. On the way there, you were trying to think of what to say to Negan. You knew that you have argued with him about this, in fact several times before, but nothing you said would make him change his mind. He always dismissed your complaints and said: “You don’t get to decide when I spend time with you, dear wife, I do.”

You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when you arrived at Negan’s black door. Without bothering to knock, you pushed down the doorknob and stepped into his room only to find him sitting on the couch, talking to Simon who was standing next to the coffee table. Negan was visibly not pleased to see you dare to enter without knocking and him inviting you in first, but you didn’t care. Your blood was boiling with rage and good manners or Negan’s preferences about wife visitation were the last things on your mind right now. You went straight to the couch opposite Negan and sat down with your arms crossed in front of your chest, eyeing him intensely.

“Well pardon me, dear wife, excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but what the fuckity fuck is going on?” Negan asked irritated, drumming his fingers on his left knee.

“I need to talk you. Now,” you said harshly.

“We are in the middle of a strategy meeting right now, darling. You and I will talk tomorrow evening after the run.”

“No, we need to talk now,” you insisted standing your ground.

“I think I better go and check the ammo inventory before tomorrow’s run,” Simon excused himself hesitantly, waiting for Negan’s approval. He knew all too well what was coming and didn’t want to get caught up in the middle of it. Negan kept his eyes on you for a moment before giving Simon a curt nod, effectively dismissing him. Simon went to the door and closed it silently behind him.

“What the fuck, Negan? Seriously? You are picking Amber for tonight? Again? Saturdays are supposed to be mine!” you blurted out, not being able to hold back any longer. You were too furious to sugar-coat your words.

Negan gave you a knowing smirk. It looked as if he had expected the exact same reaction from you. He leaned forward on the couch, his black leather jacket making a squeaking sound as he ran his gloved hand through his beard.

“Oh, of course. Here we are again, sweetheart. You still not being able to come to terms with your place in my harem,” he said smiling.

“I’m tired of this, Negan. I’m not your toy to be tossed aside when you get bored of me!” you spat at him and slammed your fist on the coffee table. Your whole body was shaking with fury.

Negan suddenly pulled out and grabbed your arm on the table. The buttery soft leather of his glove tightened around your wrist with an iron grip.

“Don’t you dare to do that ever again!” he snarled at you, his voice dangerously low.

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” you challenged him boldly. You were adamant not to let him intimidate you.

“If I didn’t know you, doll, I would think that you are picking a fight on purpose, to piss me off. Looks like I need to remind you again that I own you, baby girl and can, indeed, do as I please with you,” he growled at you. You tried to free your wrist from his grip but he was holding it tightly. “If I want to spend Saturday or any fucking night of the week with you, I will and if I don’t, then I’m going to spend it with whichever of my wives I fucking want to. Either way, you don’t come to me, I come to you, if and when I like it,” he replied now himself boiling with rage. “And I suggest you watch your mouth, sweetheart, for I will certainly not tolerate that tone any fucking day of the week from you!”

A dangerous flame was burning in his eyes now that should have warned you to back off, but you were past the point of no return. His words have only fuelled your anger.

“Oh, forgive me, my beloved husband, for my ignorance and thank you for enlightening me on my place and rights as your wife,” you replied giving him a forced smile. “Now that I know what I can and cannot do, I know exactly what I’m going to do. If you don’t want to have me anymore, then I’m leaving. That’s enough, Negan! I’m done with you!” you yelled at him and tore your arm from his grasp. Jumping up from the couch you headed straight for the door. Once you have reached it you pulled it ajar but all of a sudden it slammed shut again before you with a loud bang.

You looked up to see Negan’s hand planted on the door next to your head. You were surprised at how quickly he reached the door but you had no time to contemplate this as he grabbed you by the throat and pushed you roughly up against the door, slamming his body against yours.

“Let me go, Negan, I’m leaving you!” you hissed at him trying to get away from his grasp but he held you firmly in place, his leather glove feeling cool against your skin.

“No, you’re fucking not!” he roared and before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, claiming them in a passionate kiss. You tried to protest but he pushed his tongue inside your mouth.

You clenched your fists into balls and tried to push him away, but you didn’t stand a chance against him. He was taller and stronger, more than a match for you. He tightened his grip on your throat threateningly.

“Negan…no!” you protested as your breath hitched. You were still mad and didn’t want to give in to him, but couldn’t ignore the heat pooling in your belly. The way he took charge in bed has always been a turn-on for you and despite your mind protesting against it, your body started to respond to his touch eagerly.

“Oh, yes, sweetheart. You want this as much as I do. And you want it just like this, I know, so stop fighting me,” he grunted. You felt a new wave of heat course through your body at his words.

“No…I don’t want you…ever again!” you barked at him defiantly.

His lips curled up into a wicked grin.

“Oh, honey. I know exactly what you want. You want me to fuck you, right here, up against this fucking door, like there’s no tomorrow and you shall fucking have it.”

His lips came crashing down on yours again, eliciting a soft moan from you. You wanted to protest, but couldn’t anymore. Your primal instinct took over making you give in to him and meet his lips with equal intensity. To hell with logic, Negan was right. You wanted him and you wanted him to make good on his promise, just like he said. You slid your hands up his chest and wrapped them around the back of his neck.

He broke the kiss and released his grip on your throat for a moment to shrug off his leather jacket and then tossed it on his bed. He was wearing one of his favourite white t-shirts that showcased his toned arms and chest. He started licking his way down to your collarbone, peppering your neck with kisses and soft bites, his stubble lightly grazing your skin. A whimper escaped your lips and you brought your hands up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging hard as he continued to pleasure you. His musky scent invaded your senses, mixed with a hint of leather, after-shave and mint, creating an irresistible combination.

Your anger has completely dissipated and was replaced with something else: hot, liquid desire that was coursing through your veins, taking over your mind completely. The heat of the argument turned both of you on, heightening your passion and lust for each other. You didn’t care about what was said before, the only thing that mattered now was tasting, touching and feeling as much of each other as possible and letting out the pent-up energy that accumulated in both of your bodies.

Negan moved his hands further down and reaching your shirt, ripped it open, making the buttons fly off and scatter on the floor. A low growl escaped his lips at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra? Naughty girl…,” he whispered in a raspy voice.

He grabbed your breasts greedily, enjoying the touch of your hot skin. He moved his lips to your hard nipples, licking and sucking them gently. He moved his hand down to your stomach and started drawing tiny circles with his thumb around your belly button, sending a jolt up your spine.

“Fuck, Negan!” you mewled helplessly, your mind engulfed in a haze of pleasure.

“Soon enough, baby,” he smirked relishing in the power he had over you.

Reaching the hem of your skirt, he lifted the garment and before you knew it, his left hand was cupping your sex, while his gloved hand was still around your throat, holding you in place.

“Fucking hell, darling, you are soaking wet already!” he exclaimed feeling your wetness through your panties, rubbing the soft cotton against your pussy.

“Oh, God…don’t stop!“ you pleaded and opened your legs further to give him more access.

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t intend to,” he replied with mischief in his eyes. His lips continued their assault on your neck, now biting at your skin more firmly, leaving purple marks along the way.

“Oh, God! Negan, please!” you begged him panting hard.

“Please what, doll?” he asked huskily. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, baby,” he teased mercilessly.

“I…oh, fuck...I want your…I want your fingers inside me!” you managed to say in a shaky voice.

"Really? Is this what you want, doll?” he inquired matter-of-factly.

“Yesss…please!” you hissed through gritted teeth, overwhelmed by the sensual pleasures he was giving you. 

You tried to buck your hips against his fingers for more friction but he tightened his grip on your throat in warning and pushed his hips against yours to keep you in place. He pressed his erection into your core, making you gasp out loudly. You felt like you could come solely from the feeling of his bulge rubbing against you.

“Oh, no, doll, that’s not the way it works. You’ve been a very bad girl and for that I’m going to teach you a lesson. I will fuck you so hard that you will remember the feeling of my dick inside you for the rest of the week as a reminder that you are my wife, now and forever.”

With his free hand he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his hard cock. He pumped it a couple of times spreading the pre-cum over the smooth tip. With a single movement he ripped your panties from your body and tossed them aside. He picked up your legs and wrapped them around his hip as you kicked off your stilettos and let them drop on the floor.

Without hesitation he slammed into you, making you wince. While you were wet for him, he did not give you time to adjust to his size and started thrusting in and out of you in a brutal rhythm. The slight discomfort was soon replaced by sheer pleasure, making you arch your back against the door. You have missed the feeling of Negan filling you up completely and was already close to your climax.

“Who do you belong to?” Negan asked between thrusts, panting hard, snapping you out of your blissful haze. His pubic hair was grazing your clit, the friction driving you insane with need.

“To…ohhh...you…,” you stuttered between moans.

“Louder! Who do you belong to?” he urged tightening his hold on your throat, speeding up his thrusts at the same time. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and temples. His moves became almost animalistic, the urge overtaking him. The sound of skin slapping against skin rhythmically filled the room.

“You! I belong to you, Negan!” you cried out feeling a little light headed from the lack of oxygen and starting to tighten around his cock.

“Good girl,” he praised, finally satisfied with your reply. His thrusts became faster and sloppier, signalling that he was getting closer to his peak.

“Now come for me, baby!” he commanded and his words finally pushed you over the edge making you scream out loud as pleasure washed over your entire body, making your arms tighten around his shoulders and your toes to curl up. It was the most intense feeling that cleared every thought from your mind. Negan pushed into you a few more times and came hard, cursing loudly and shooting his hot cum inside you.

Your legs felt like jelly and you couldn’t hold them around Negan’s hips anymore. You tried to steady yourself by holding onto his neck but you were so weak that your body started to slide down along the door. Negan released his grip from your throat allowing oxygen to fill your lungs, heightening the sensation of your post-orgasmic bliss. He grabbed your hips and knelt down on the floor, with his dick still inside you, so that you were straddling his lap. You were both panting hard, still coming down from your highs, your hair and clothes messy and your bodies covered in sweat.

“Looks like we should be arguing more often,” you murmured against Negan’s neck.

“We most certainly should.” he replied with a chuckle and started kissing your neck lazily. “I missed her so much.“

“Missed her? Who?” you mumbled sleepily against him.

“Well, your hot, wet pussy of course,” he laughed out wickedly.

“Asshole!” you exclaimed and punched him in the chest lightly, his crude remark earning a smile to appear on your lips. “I think she missed you too,” you whispered in his ear, giggling. His skin smelled of sex, sweat and a hint of soap and you snuggled closer to him to feel more of it.

“And what about Amber? Weren’t you supposed to spend tonight with her?” you asked hesitantly, remembering the reason for your argument earlier. You started drawing lazy circles on his chest absentmindedly. His skin felt hot and moist to your touch and his t-shirt stuck to his body.

“No, I was to spend tonight with you all along,” Negan replied simply.

You looked up at your husband in disbelief.

“But, Simon…he said that you…”

“Simon said exactly what I told him to say,” he countered looking at you intently, a mischievous smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“I…I…I don’t understand…why did you tell him to…?” you started shaking your head when the realization hit you. “No…no, Negan, you didn’t! You did this all on purpose? To make me mad and start a fight?”

“Sure I did, darling. I remembered the make-up sex after our last argument and just couldn’t help it…I had to have more of that. And so did you, I believe,” he added and continued to plant feathery kisses along your throat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied curtly pushing him away, crossing your arms in front of your chest and pursing your lips at him. You felt anger bubble up in your chest again at his confession.

“Oh, doll, you want to start another fight? I’m up up for it, as long as we make up with some freaky-deaky fun afterwards,” he beamed at you, bringing his gloved hand around your neck again and grasping it gently. It wasn’t painful but it was enough to remind you of how he restricted your air supply while he was fucking you earlier. You obeyed instinctively and dropped your arms from your chest. He smiled triumphantly and continued kissing and sucking your neck. 

“So…uhm…Amber, did she know about this?” you asserted.

“She was in on the whole thing right from the beginning. In fact, she was worried as fuck about how you would react to me choosing her on the previous two Saturdays already,” Negan added licking your collarbone, his stubble grazing your skin tantalizingly slowly.

“Wow…you planned this all out, didn’t you?” you looked at him in awe. And you thought he was neglecting you in favour of his other wives. You were thankful now that you didn’t give in to the temptation of beating Amber up earlier.

“It was worth it, wasn’t it?” he replied with an evil grin on his face.

“So…what’s going to happen now?” you inquired cautiously as Negan’s tongue left goosebumps in its wake on your still sensitive skin.

“You mean, after round two?” he asked licking his lips.

You sighed out loud and slapped his arm playfully.

“Negan, you are still inside me!”

“Oh, trust me, baby, I fucking noticed,” he replied huskily and moved his hands to your ass pulling your body closer in his lap. You could feel his cock harden inside you again. “What can I say? I’m an insatiable motherfucker.”

“Now that is something I can attest to. Especially the ‘motherfucker’ part,” you snorted rolling your eyes at him.

Negan gave you a dark look, narrowing his eyes at you, making you blush and shift uncomfortably in his lap. You knew how little tolerance he had for any of his wives acting insubordinately towards him and how he enjoyed doling out punishment for such behaviour. Not that you minded being punished by him if it meant a sweet torture like the one you have just had to “endure”... The idea of testing the limits of his patience seemed temptingly alluring...but you were still sore from earlier and needed some time to recover. Negan never failed to keep his promises and you were certain that you would indeed remember the feeling of him inside you for the rest of the week. Another time then, perhaps.

You gulped hard and looked away to escape his piercing gaze. “I mean..from now on. What is going to happen on Saturdays?” you pushed further.

“Saturdays are yours and yours only,” Negan murmured against your lips, nuzzling your nose with his.

You smiled at him happily, content with his reply. You leaned into him and kissed him deeply.

“I love you, dear husband,” you whispered to him between kisses.

“And I love you, dear wife,” Negan replied claiming your lips again.

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