#@ the girl with split dyed hair and eyebrow piercings who keeps showing up in my dreams

[narutosnutsack69]

sorry to get kinky on main but the thought of a world without you in it makes my chest hurt

[wri0thesley]

nat something about toji drives me absolutely feral, can i have a scenario or something where he meets reader at a bar and they have a steamy one night stand i don’t know i just want this beeg beefy dilf to absolutely ruin my puthy (fem reader please!)

anon, i really hope you have a corruption kink

Favourite (So Far) - Toji x Fem!Reader (5k)

Toji sees you sitting alone at a bar; all quiet and soft and unsure, and absolutely begging to be ruined - and he decides he can help with that.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, mentions of murder. corruption kink, virgin reader, dacryphilia, fingering, coming inside, dirty talk. 

Toji normally doesn’t bother lingering after he’s held up his end of the bargain, but the money is burning a hole in his pocket and the minute he’d left the body of the man he’d been hired to kill locked in the back office of the bar, he’d remembered you.

He estimates he’s got a good half an hour before anyone realises the man is dead. If they’d wanted him to clear up after himself, they should have written it in the contract – still, with how awkward you’d looked and how your eyes kept darting about the place, Toji is pretty sure he’ll have you away from the bar and with his arm around your waist in . . . ooh, ten minutes? Fifteen, at a push.

He knows your type.

You’re uncomfortable, watching your friends go off and flirt and dance – pulling at your skirt (you’re uncomfortable in that, too), tugging your thin shirt up to cover your chest, ordering something non-alcoholic and looking morosely at it. Your eyes avoiding when men try and catch your gaze, your posture tensing – he’s pretty certain that you do not want to be here, and Toji is going to offer you an alternative that he thinks you might prefer.

You don’t notice him until he’s right beside you (people never do), leaning in against your ear, one of his arms slapping on the bar beside you, caging you in on your barstool. You start, moving back, blinking your pretty eyes at him in clear surprise, your mouth a soft ‘o’ – ah. Toji can tell you’re the kind of girl who isn’t used to male attention, who doesn’t think that you’re anything special. Shy. Probably untouched-- he’s grinning at you, and he doesn’t miss the little swallow, the flash of interest in your eyes (girls like you always like the idea of getting involved in something a little dangerous)--

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?”

The voice is rough and low and dark, startling you from your reverie. Your friends have all, indeed, long gone – after sighing at you that you’re no fun, that they shouldn’t have asked you to come out with them anyway – you’re surprised by the man it belongs to, all raven hair and piercing green eyes and a scar on his lip that your eyes can’t help but trace the line of – how does somebody end up with a scar like that?

“Oh,” you bluster, feeling embarrassed and unsure by the way he’s looking at you, the easy way he throws out the pet name, the casual authority he’s emanating by how you’ve been caged. “I’m-- I don’t really--”

He chuckles.

“Me neither,” he says. “Lemme get you somethin’ soft, then--”

It would be easier, he thinks, if you had agreed – if you’d been softened a little bit by the buzz of alcohol. Still, he knows that what he gives off is heady enough that you’ll come with him anyway – he doesn’t drink himself, so he’s not exactly going to blame you for wanting to keep your wits about you. Smart thing, for all of how vulnerable you look in a short skirt and high heels and a low-cut top. He’s ordered something for you before you can refute – you can’t deny to yourself that it’s nice. It’s nice to have someone be interested in you. It’s nice, too, that said someone is rugged and six foot something with corded veins and muscle in thick biceps and forearms.

You’re staring at him, and Toji allows it, letting his own gaze crawl across your pretty face, your body, the way the cheap lights of this dive are picking out the shine in your eyes and the gloss of your lipstick.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doin’ on her own somewhere like this?” He asks you, lifting the glass to his lips. You try not to stare at them, though your stomach is twisting. You shrug, awkwardly.

“I got dragged here by some friends,” you say, inclining your head towards the dance-floor, where your friends are very much living up to their earlier assertion that they were going to have a wild time and if you weren’t going to join in, then you could just wallow in your misery.

“Ah,” he raises his eyebrows, eyes briefly brushing over where you’d indicated before returning to you. Something about the way that those eyes are pinning you like a butterfly to a cork board makes you squirm, heat curling in your lower belly. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before. This man is staring at you like he wants to take you apart, and it’s exhilarating. “You not the dancin’ sort, huh?” Another swallow. The bob in his throat is mesmerising. “Can’t blame ya. Pretty thing like you’s probably inundated with attention the minute y’get out there--”

You laugh, softly, heat rising to your cheeks. Toji can’t help but think how cute that is – you’re so obviously unaware of yourself. When he gets you on your back, he knows you’ll have that certain kind of naivety that never fails to get him hard and aching in his pants; wide eyes and bitten lips and breath dying in your throat at the touch of his teeth and hands and cock.

“Nothing like that,” you say, “I just--”

Your eyes catch something. Toji looks too, as you’re interrupted by a pretty girl tottering up to you both in an even shorter skirt and even higher heels. Her eyes linger on Toji, a fraction too long, before she turns to you and pouts and says your name, making you wince. There’s a whining tone to her voice.

She’s complaining that someone’s spilt a drink over her, and Toji sees now that her expensive-looking shirt is stained dark brown. He hadn’t noticed the scent of beer wafting from her because of the overall air of the bar is absolutely saturated in it, but now that she’s right there . . . he wrinkles his nose.

“You have to come home with me, nobody else will,” she tugs on your arm. “And you said you weren’t having fun anyway, so you can always stay there, but I need to change out of this--”

There’s a world-weary quality in your eyes. Something that suggests to Toji that you’re used to being the designated person to take care of your friends, to dropping things to clean up after them – those big eyes and the downturn of your mouth and the softness of your voice all suggest to him that maybe part of the reason you’re so demure, so . . . innocent . . . is because you haven’t had a chance to explore anything else.

Toji drapes a thick arm around your shoulders. You jump at the contact – but almost as if it’s against your will, you nestle into him. Closer to him. A prey animal knows when it’s being protected, after all – even if it doesn’t know, yet, that he’s the predator.

“We’re a bit busy here,” he says, keeping his tone affable with a knife-sharp edge. The girl opens her mouth, as if she’s going to protest – but Toji grins, his eyes darkening, his mouth tilting to show just a little bit too much teeth. He lets himself draw himself up a little taller, so that his breadth and his height and the taut muscles beneath his tight shirt are unarguable. Your friend falters, shoots you a look, and then shrugs.

“F-fine,” she says, “I’ll go on my own--”

She walks away, pouting, storm clouds rising off of her. You’re trembling imperceptibly (adorable) – he thinks this might be the first time you’ve ignored one of your friends. Eager to please little thing, he supposes – the kind of person who wants to be liked and will do almost anything to keep it that way, with big doe eyes and a trembling lip and your chest thrust out unconsciously.

Oh, he will ruin you, and you’ll thank him for it afterwards.

“Sorry if I’m oversteppin’ my boundaries there,” he says to you, and you look at him with your eyes big and wide and wet your lips, his cock giving an answering throb. You breathe very softly;

“N-no, thank you, it’s . . . it’s nice to not have to deal with them, for once--”

Toji leans further into you, his arm not leaving your shoulders – close enough that his breath tickles the shell of your ear, and your brain short-circuits at a handsome older man leaning so close and intimately to you.

“You don’t wanna stay here, though, do ya?” His other hand is suddenly on your leg, calloused fingertips brushing the soft skin of your thigh. Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting – threads of heat sewing themselves into knots between your thighs. “You wanna split?”

His eyes do not stray to the clock behind the bar, but he estimates it’s been about eleven minutes. Longer than he was expecting, but – as you bite your lip and stand up, letting his fingertips drag dangerously close to the part of you between your legs, Toji decides it’s worth it.

His place is nothing special. For a man as well-paid as he is, you’d expect something a little classier, maybe – but for a man with the kind of profession Toji Fushiguro has, he doesn’t spend much time in it. He’s too busy travelling to care about it beyond anything other than a place to crash, eat, and bring home his conquests. And you don’t seem disgusted by it as he pushes you roughly into the room, arm locking around your waist, mouth dipping to taste you – so Toji doesn’t worry about it too much.

You’re still trembling against him, your entire body thrumming with energy that you’re not used to – but that all works to his advantage. It works to the advantage of directing you into his room, until your back hits the bed with a soft ‘whoomph’ of air and Toji is kneeling over you, your eyes big and wide and blown as they look up at him.

You’d been so easy to convince back here. You’d made a couple of quiet whispers about how you shouldn’t, the way that good girls like you do – but his fingers had cupped your cheek and his body had pressed against yours and he’d smiled that dangerous knife-edge smile and you’d been putty in his hands, trembling kneed and so very adaptable as you’d walked beside him with your breath unsteady in your chest at your own daring.

Now, though, with a man’s bed behind you and a man’s cock digging into your stomach where he has you caged underneath him, things are beginning to feel far more real. You take another shuddering breath, not meeting his eyes as you whisper;

“I—I haven’t--”

Oh, fuck. If you knew what those little words did to him – if you could have heard the monster roaring in his chest at how excited he was that he’d not only get to utterly ruin you, but to get to be the first one to do it . . . He’d let himself hope, based on your way of holding yourself all demure and prim, that you’d be a virgin, but to hear it from your own lips with your skin rapidly heating up under the confession.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Toji practically coos at you, as his big fingers go to your shirt, tugging it off with expert precision. “I ain’t gonna break you—”

(Well. Not in any way you aren’t going to beg for.)

Breath caught in your throat as your bra is unclipped, the lacy garment dropped onto the floor. His own shirt follows – you can barely stop yourself ogling him, the firm abdominal muscles, the scars across his pectorals. You can tell, based on how many scars he’s bearing, just how dangerous the man above you must be.

The one like a starburst is a bullet scar, you’re pretty sure. The one wrapping around his side is too big to be anything but a knife or a sword – this is a man involved in something dangerous, something shady – and even that isn’t enough to get you to ask him to stop.

Staring down at your newly exposed breasts, Toji can’t resist leaning in; sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the sensitive bud, lapping at it until your back arches and you whimper so prettily that it goes straight through him and straight to his cock. The wet kisses trail back up to your neck, blunt teeth tugging at your skin, sucking quickly stinging bruise marks into the skin so that everybody will know what this cute little virgin was up to last night--

A rough tug to your earlobe makes you moan. A nip to your lower lip makes you practically mewl. And his rough fingertips pushing up your skirt to your waist, letting his fingers dig into your plush thighs so hard that there’s no way you won’t be marked with fingerprints tomorrow – that makes you whine.

“You like bein’ pushed around a little bit, cutie?” The pet name, again, has blood rushing to your face and heat rushing to between your legs. You’re suddenly so very aware of how slick you are, how your underwear is clinging to the folds of your sex. How much of that is his fingers and how much of it is his voice and how much of it is how exposed you are in front of him, you don’t know – but you bite your lip and avert your gaze, and this just seems to spur him on. Both of you know the answer: yes. Yes, you do like being pushed around a little bit--

“These are soaking wet,” he tells you, as the matching lacy underwear to your bra is peeled off of you. He readjusts himself, grabbing your thigh and pressing your knee against your chest so that he can move his hips between your two legs as well as get a proper look at what you’ve been hiding beneath the tiny skirt – he lets out a low whistle, those green eyes greedily drinking you in like you’re a painting hung in an art gallery. “Well, look at you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

He sees how the compliment makes you squirm at the same time as it makes your cute little hole, exposed thanks to the stretch of your leg, flutter around nothing. He might break you if he doesn’t prepare you properly; you’re so small, and it’s been a real long time since he bedded a virgin--

One of his fingers drags through your slick with no preamble, brushing your fluttering hole, and the noise catches in your throat – halfway between a whimper and a soft sigh, a noise that does not serve to do anything but make him repeat the motion, gathering your glimmering arousal on the same thick digit. He brings it to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you.

“Mm, you should taste yourself,” he says to you, eyes glinting. “You’re like honey, sweetheart--” Toji doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no. His finger pushes past your lips, so you’re forced to taste yourself on his fingertips, brushing over your tongue. His eyes focus very deeply on you, like you’re the only thing in his orbit worth paying attention to. “Why don’t you give my finger a suck, darlin’? You’ll want it as wet as you can get it--”

Not that you’re not plenty wet enough. But there’s something so endearing about the feel of your tongue hesitantly licking at him, the shine of your eyes. If he wasn’t hard enough to cut diamonds, he would have you suck his cock first, if only to see those pretty lips wrapped around his shaft and to hear you choke a little bit, to see your makeup go runny and messy and ruined--

“Atta girl,” he says, roughly, pulling his finger out (the trail of drool sends another of those throbs of heat through him). The finger drags over your slit again, parting the plump lips – and then, he’s pushing his finger inside you, your walls pulsing around him. You’re so fucking tight. He knows you weren’t lying about being a virgin – the gasp that dies in your throat, the hand that tangles in his bedsheets, the little lift of your hips to help him along – all of those are things that are entirely sensation responses, not in the least calculated, and Toji loves that.

The finger pumps in and out of you, helped along by your slick, until he can press another alongside it and scissor them gently, stretching out your channel in preparation for what you’re going to take in a matter of minutes. Your teeth keep digging into your bottom lip, as if you’re afraid to make too much of a noise – he chuckles as he brushes your swollen clit with his thumb.

“C’mon,” he growls, “don’t hold out on me. Lemme hear you--”

Oh, you’re so embarrassed – but you’re also, he can tell, the kind of girl who can’t resist an order. You let your mouth relax, drop open – and next time his thumb rubs firmly across your clit, the noise is caught only by the ceiling above you both. He makes some little noise of praise that you can’t fully discern, because now he’s started pulling forth your pleasure he doesn’t want to stop. Three fingers. His thumb, toying with your clit, rubbing firm circles with it as he feels your channel clench and quiver around his fingers. He rubs at the textured spot on your inner walls and you groan, your other hand gripping his forearm, your brow forming sweat. Your hips are circling, needy, in search of more stimulation.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Toji asks you, his voice like cigarettes and leather. “C’mon. Let me see-- let me feel your pretty cunt clench--”

Something about the dirty words pushes you over the edge and you tumble down a dark hole, fireworks exploding inside of you, stars bursting into being behind your eyelids as pleasure washes over you in great waves. You soak Toji’s fingers, your walls sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Your breath comes in great pants, the aftershocks of your orgasm still gently rippling through you even as Toji pulls his fingers out of you. You look up at the man as he adjusts himself with his other hand, as if in a haze – and as if in a haze, when he roughly pushes those three fingers back into your mouth, you suckle on them with your mind and thoughts all misty. All you can think about is him. That’s what he wanted, anyway – cute little demure virgin, cock drunk even without him fucking you properly – he breaks girls like you on the regular, but you might be one of his favourites.

He tugs down his pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, curving to lay against his stomach, hard and leaking precome from a reddened tip. Your eyes widen (he always loves that moment), as you realise why he took pains to prepare you with his fingers.

“Whaddya think?” He asks you, teasing, wrapping his fist around the shaft. Even his big hands around it do nothing to make it look smaller, and you barely realise that you’re staring until he slaps your thighs with it, streaking his own wetness all over you. “You’ll give a man a complex, sweetheart--”

“I-I don’t have much to compare it to,” you say, desperately, heated and needy even though you literally just came. You want him inside you. You never thought you’d be so easily broken down into wanting to be fucked, but here you are – something primal inside of you is awoken by the size of his cock and the glitter in his eyes and the sculpted muscle, and you want to be desecrated. “Y-you look big--”

He laughs at that. Yeah, you definitely don’t have much to compare it to if that’s your take-away. Still. It’s cute, how you’ve spread your legs a little wider, how you’re not hiding the fact you’re looking at him like he’s some kind of angel who’s finally granted you a taste of the celestial city.

“I feel big too,” he tells you, with a smirk that rattles you to your core. “Wanna find out?”

When you nod, he grins – those big hands take a hold of your thighs, pressing both of your knees to your chest this time. He takes a moment to enjoy you in this position – those wide eyes, the lewd splay of your legs revealing the glimpse of your cunt still tantalisingly shining with the remnants of your orgasm. You squirm under his hungry gaze, exposed – and that does nothing to quell the hunger that seems to be thrumming through Toji, with every clench and wriggle.

“Good,” he tells you, rubbing his cock through the mess you’ve made of yourself, making sure the head nudges your clit and he can see the way you shiver. “You’re bein’ such a good girl for me--”

He catches on your entrance and you let out a keen. With your knees pressed to your chest, you’re unable to get a grip on Toji’s shoulders, and you have to console yourself with fisting the bedsheets beneath you (rumpled even before you’d ended up there).

The position he’s got you in means that you feel every ridge of his cock, every vein, every throb – inch by inch, as he sheaths himself slowly inside you. He can’t help but watch as your jaw goes slack, as your eyes cloud with the feeling of him entering you – as tears bead in the corner of your eyes at the burn and stretch--

Oh, fuck, the tears. He wonders if you feel the way that his cock seems to harden at that, at how pretty you look all glassy-eyed and helpless and trying to take him. He’s maybe two thirds in and almost at the limit of forward motion, but you whimper, letting your head fall back--

“P-please,” you say, “I—I can take it--”

He laughs, low and dangerous. He leans in, brushes his lips over your sweat slicked forehead. His tone is syrupy sweet when he speaks, as he angles his hips just so that he sinks another aching inch into the sweet kiss of your tight cunt.

“Oh, I know you will, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sounding almost like a threat. His eyes flash downwards, to see how tightly you’re clinging to him – how big his cock looks, disappearing into your slick sex. How the glistening ring of your need coats him. Just a bit further – watching himself claim you is almost hypnotic.

He wants to see you on your hands and knees, watch his cock stretch you out that way. He wants to see you gag and choke and drool around his cock, wants to see your small hands wrap around him, wants to have you in every position until you’re so fucked silly you can barely move--

But for now, he hilts inside of you, his balls slapping against your slick skin. His face splits into a smile as his eyes travel back up, to the bulge in your stomach that he knows is from just how big his cock is, to your thighs trembling even with him keeping them prone against you. You’re so cute. The tears have spilled past the rim of your eyelids now, wetting your cheeks – they’re so maddeningly sexy, on your pretty face. He’s not going to last half as long as he wants to, he doesn’t think – not when you’ve been driving him to distraction since the moment he laid eyes on you.

He can barely remember he killed a man less than an hour ago.

That’s old news, unimportant compared to how your walls flutter around him as he pulls out. Unimportant compared to the arch of your back, the rock of your breasts, the great gasps of air.

He’s not a kind man, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole to his conquests – so he lets you get used to the rolling rhythm of his hips, slowly. He doesn’t piston his hips in and out of you, not at first. He lets the slow drag of his cock on your sensitive inner walls make you shiver, make you gasp and moan and whimper. And only after he’s earned the light hump of your hips against his, searching for the sensation yourself, does he let himself fuck you the way he wants to.

He wants to record the moan-squeak-whimper of surprise as he begins to pump his hips in earnest. It’s a noise he’s heard before, but coming from your pretty mouth it seems all the more potent. His hips jerk into you and out of you, the noise of skin slapping against skin very loud in the bedroom. The slick noises of his cock driving in and out of your tight cunt would be shaming if it didn’t feel so good, if you didn’t get a shock of want every time his body ground against your clit on the inner thrust.

You lose track of time, with the dangerous man you met at the bar bent over you. He mouths greedily at your lips, seeming to treasure every noise you make and swallow it down his throat like a sweet candy – he bites at your neck, at your throat, the grip on your thighs never faltering for a moment. You can do nothing but let yourself be folded in half, and let him fuck you like an animal.

That seems right. He’s rutting into you deep and hungrily, almost feral in his enjoyment of your body. He drops one of your legs suddenly, letting it hit the mattress, readjusting his hips so that one of his hands can dive between you and--

He’s playing with your clit again. The pads of his fingers are rough, and you wonder if he handles a gun like the one that gave him that starburst scar. You wonder how dangerous these fingers are, the ones that were buried inside you and are now coaxing your poor, swollen clit to another orgasm.

“Come on, baby girl,” he growls, pressing harder, making your thighs jump with tension. “Wanna feel you come with my cock buried in that pretty little cunt--”

You whimper, throwing your head to the side and letting a cry out into the pillow like a mewl. Toji would be mad that you’d stifled the cute little noise, if the sight of you submissively showing him your neck (one of your softest parts) hadn’t scratched an itch for dominance inside of him – and if the feel of your body clenching and pulsating around his cock wasn’t currently finally pushing him over the edge, making him judder his hips against you as he shoots rope after rope of his come directly inside of you.

Your shoulders are heaving with the effort of the orgasm that’s still ricocheting through you, your toes curling, your body clenching and soaking Toji’s cock with your orgasm. You don’t even realise he’s come inside of you until he pulls out slightly and you wince at the feel of that same come, his load far too thick and full to not have a bit of it trickling out of your stretched hole. Toji admires the look of it; darkened from his persistent thrusts, your syrupy slick mixing with the thick pearly white of his seed.

“Y-you came inside me,” you say, your voice half-clogged with the tears that are still glistening on your cheeks (a low pulse of heat in his groin. His refractory period has always been short – and with a cute little thing like you in his bed, who can blame him for wanting to fuck you again almost immediately?). “I—I don’t even know your name--”

Oh, shit. He’d quite forgotten. He knows yours from the girl in the bar (that already feels like a lifetime ago). He can hear the uncertainty in your voice, the kind of confusion that seems to say ‘good girls don’t do this, I would never do this, who is this stranger wearing my skin with a man’s come making their thighs sticky?’. It’s part of the process of breaking that Toji loves so much.)

“Sure did, darlin’,” he says, absent-mindedly scooping some of the come that’s oozed out of you and pressing it back inside. He wins a whimper for that, one that’s definitely not ‘stop’. “You’re still so sensitive.”

If you notice he doesn’t give you his name in response to your question, you don’t say anything. As his fingers gently circle your entrance again, as his hand brushes your thigh and you shiver, he sees that you unconsciously spread your legs even further apart for his explorations. Oh, you’re so cute.

One lone finger, gently grazing your clit, makes your hips jerk, your voice break in a way that’s all needy. You look at Toji through those tear-darkened eyes, your lips bitten to puffiness, your lipstick and mascara and eyeliner all messed up on your face from crying and biting your lip and drooling. Adorable. Girls like you always look best like this, their polish scuffed when Toji’s taken them to bed and stripped away all of their defences.

Girls like you, Toji always manages to get to move their hips against his ministrations. He always manages to have them gasp, whimper, break--

You’re not the first one in his bed, and you probably won’t be the last. But as he grins at you and asks;

“Well, sweetheart. I’ll give you a choice. Y’wanna take a shower and I’ll call you a cab or somethin’ and you can head off home? Or,” he drops his voice low, drags his eyes over your prone form, brushes his lips over your stomach. They flutter against the soft skin, his breath a hot wash that makes goose flesh prickle all over you. “Y’wanna spend the night?”

And you bite your lip before nodding, nervously running your hand through his hair, your body near trembling with need--

Well. As he asks that and you answer, he really does think you might be his favourite one ever.

[thithesandofferings]

“Open Wide”- Ogami Shirou x Reader

TW: 18+ MINORS DNI!! Dom!Shirou/Sub!FemReader, Comeplay, Choking, Voice Kink, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, Degradation, lil bit Size Kink SMUT!!

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put in into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shiro this angry before. Especially to say words like that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he absolutely has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

Link to my Ao3 for this fic= https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414948

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put it into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shirou this angry before. Especially to say words such as that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

“Hey you! Look alive we gotta go!” Michiru yelled, startling me out of a downward spiral.

She was right. I had to get out of there before the place was destroyed to shreds. I could barely think. All I could think about was Shirou splitting that evil bastard's mouth open and putting his power inside it.

I couldnt help but feel jealous.

His wolf had such a presence on its own, how could I not be affected.

I needed to get it together, there were still people that needed to be saved. I shook my head and ran after Michiru towards Shirou. She was chattering excitedly, but I honestly couldnt understand anything she was saying. My eyes were on him.

He must’ve caught something in my gaze because he turned his attention to me.

“You okay?” His voice was gruff from exertion and I had to take a calming breath from the shiver that coursed down my spine. He caught that too.

“I should be asking you that Shirou” I looked away, but with a sideways glance I grumbled that he was, in fact, amazing. He raised his nose a notch, almost an afterthought,  and I could see him take a deep breath.

With his penetrating gaze solely on mine, I could feel my pulse jump and my temperature rack up a thousand degrees, I had to look away. He scoffed, almost smugly, and slid attention back to Michiru, who was still talking and running around. Something about having Shirou howl to the town.

We watched as he changed into his silver wolf form again to howl into the microphone. It was a beautiful site to see. Seeing all the animals completely stop what they were doing just to howl with him. Alan had no idea what he had been talking about.

Shirou had the Howl.

Michiro and I could only watch in awe. We were born human turned animals so we didnt have the innate instinct to go along with him. It was such an eye-opening experience, so much so that I felt a little empty at not being able to do it. Shirou looked so regal, the urge to fall on my knees in front of him was an encompassing feeling.

Shaking violently at the thought, I had to blow out a long soul-suffering sigh. Michiru glanced with eyebrows in an “are you okay” motion and I could only just nod.

What is going on with me? Where are my thoughts?

I had hoped that thoughts of Shirou would leave. The attention was of us and finally life was, in all intensive purposes, back to normal. Michiru was able to hang out with her fellow friends, and I- was able to start my work in the office.

Except, I could get nothing done.

Shirou was constantly in my peripheral, working on whatever case was in that week. But when he wasnt there, he was in my mind whispering in his growling voice about the things he could do to me.

I was dying.

There would be times where I would stare at a research book, never turning the page, just staring. It was becoming so hectic that Shirou asked if I needed time off.

“I know its been hard for everyone” Shirou had said. He had been in that leather jacket again. Who wears gloves inside? Why was it so hot?

Its not fair.

“What's not fair?” I looked up from his gloved hands and I could feel my heart rate sky rocket in panic.

I said that out loud.

His gaze is so piercing, it felt like he was staring into my soul. He was leaning on my door frame, completely relaxed. His usual bored expression was placed with something that was almost- teasing? Not that couldnt be right.

But it had been the same expression and mood for weeks now. His casual bumps and grins were so much that Ive had to actively avoid him before I had a heart attack. I wasnt in control of my emotions half the time, so any sort of embarrassment would make me change into my animal form. Even through his cold demeanor, it still seemed like he was laughing at me. I'm sure he could tell that I was flustered, especially when he turned into his wolf form. It always made my blood pressure go up and something slick slide down my thighs.

Which is what was happening now.

Oh no.

I prayed that he wouldnt notice anything amiss, but the world wasnt on my side. He lifted his nose up again and sniffed. It was as if he was trying to find someone miles away, but when he finally looked towards me, his pupils were wide open. Alert.

“You never answered my question.”

There was a hitch in my breath at that tone. That growl that Ive been dreaming about for weeks.

I’m so fucked.

“I-i uhm… sorry what?” I could feel myself blinking rapidly. I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. This was getting ridiculous.

“You humans are very odd,” Shirou rose up from the door, and for a moment I felt relief only to freeze when he closed my door.

With him still inside. We’re alone.

“You even more so.”

He walked slowly towards my desk. Well more like prowled. There was intent in his walk.

I’ve never felt more like prey than right now.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me” He’s whispering now. His gloved fingers gently spread out to the edge of my desk and he leans over it.

He’s so close.

“I smell you all day. Its intoxicating.” One hand lifts up and brushes my cheek, I know he can feel the heat.

“You’re the first human that I have ever wanted”

I froze.

Hes been feeling the same? From his expression and the dropping of at least two octaves, it was definitely confirmed.

“I- uh I want you too” My voice was hoarse from emotion. He could hear it just fine it seemed because if his pupils werent blown out before, they sure were now.

Shirou visibly licked his lips and I couldn’t help but follow the motion. He watched me watch him and he grinned, showing his fangs in satisfaction.

“Good because I plan to devour you. Stand up”

I could barely hear the order due to his growling. His ravenous expression was drowning me. I was swimming in heat and desire.

“I wont ask again”

Shirous’ voice snapped me back into reality and with shaky sweaty palms I pushed my chair away and stood. He never told me to move so I just stayed there. He seemed very pleased that I didn’t move.

Not like I could, I was barely able to breathe.

He stalked slowly around my desk until he was behind me, moving the chair completely across the room. It crashed into a plant and I jumped, still not moving an inch.

I could feel his breath across my nape and goosebumps coursed down my skin. I could feel him smelling my hair, breathing in the sweat that I felt that I was pouring out. I tried to move away, embarrassed, but I could feel his grip tighten and him growl at my into my neck.

“Stay still” He whispered. “You can be a good girl and do that for me right?”

I froze at the pet name. I’ve never heard him call me anything other than my last name. I couldn’t believe how it affected at me. I could feel myself become even more drenched.

He could tell.

“Oh? You like that huh?”

I felt his leathered hands slide slowly underneath my shirt and palm my breast. I gasped, my head falling on his shoulder at the groping. This was getting intense fast. I heard something tearing and tried to glance down only to have one of his hands press lightly at my neck. Holding me still.

Shirou shushed me, keeping his hand curled around my throat. Murmuring something about not needing this or that, I felt fabric fall at my feet and my chest became covered in hot leather. I let out a choked moan, only to have his grip tightened.

“You’re gonna have to be a quiet pup, you don't want all your colleagues to know what you're doing right?” He was so mocking, I couldnt help but feel flustered with how demeaning he sounded.

I nodded knowing I couldnt say anything in this position.

“Thats right, good girl, now go on bend over the desk” He slipped his hands away and disorientation readily slid back into my head.

I laid over my desk, paper be damned, and wrapped my hands over the edge to hold on. I heard him growl in confirmation at the act and I preened at the act of pleasing him.

I’ve never felt this way. I was completely ok with him taking the reigns. I didnt have many braincells left, I could barely think. All I could do was just do.

Shirou hands caressed my ass in appreciation, his ungloved hand (when had that happened?) made a purposeful track up to my waistband, hastily taking them off. I was completely soaked and hearing him swear obscenities definitely didnt help.

“I can’t wait to knot you, pup” I felt his weight against me, his bare chest completely covering my whole body. He was so warm, degrees hotter than his normal, his breath hot on my cheek as he licked my face from chin to forehead.

“The real question is,” he says through licks down my spine. “Which form do I want to take you hm?” I shivered violently at the thought of Shirou taking me in my wolf form. Outside of Anima city it is forbidden to have any of those kind of thoughts. But you couldnt help that you constantly thought about Shirou fucking you in his wolf form.

I could hear his deep chuckle at my spine. He knew my answer.

I felt him nose my wetness and my breath hitches. It didnt last for more than 5 seconds and I could hear myself grown out against the desk.

“I would love to taste you, but unfortunately we dont have that kind of time.” There was a zipping noise and I tensed, gushing even more at the thought of what it could be.

“I would need hours to be satisfied from your taste” He is suddenly in my ear. “But I plan to fuck you like you need it.”

I could hear myself mewling at the thought. I’ve been wanting this for weeks. I cant believe someone like Shirou even wants to touch me. Shirou, cool-mannered and distant, wants to fuck me five ways to Sunday is honeslty an eye opening experience.

There is a clicking sound and I gasped. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didnt feel the fingers. I could feel myself clenching around and my mewling became even louder. Colleagues be damned.

There was an surprised hum from behind me.

“You’ve been touching yourself?” All I could do was nod embarrassed. He cooed sweetly and added 3 fingers inside of me.

“What were you thinking about? Were you thinking of me? Tell me” I gasped in affirmations. I couldnt take it anymore. I needed inside of me now.

I felt like I was going to die.

“P-please Shiro, I need it.”

“You need what pup?” He grinned savagely and I felt something hard and hot against me.

I wiggled in frustration. Only to have him laugh and hold my hips still. Using his strength to make me stay still.

I was going to have bruises.

“Please fuck me Shirou” I whispered into my shoulder. I knew he could hear me. I felt my chest tighten at the gasp and growl.

“Good girl.” I shivered and gasped as he pushed the head in with a savage force of his hips.

“I wont hold back pup” He laid his furry chest against my back “You might be ruined for any one else.”

“I dont want you to Shirou, give me your all”

A growl was heard and then the most intense feeling of my life was radiating through my whole body.

He thrusted so hard that I could hear the desk screeching. The other colleagues, if they were still there, would definitely hear it. I prayed that they weren’t gonna check to see if I was okay. I wouldnt be able to speak anyways. I’m pretty much holding on dear life on the desk. There was no way I was able to explain anything.

Shirou didn’t seem to care either. The constant growling and heavy breathing that was coming from him was telling.

“Youre so tight, I cant believe all of me fit inside of you” He groaned and all I could do was tighten around him, which made him go even faster. There was a crack from the desk, but I ignored it. All I could concentrate on was the heat and his cock bruising my insides.

“Mine mine mine MINE” He stopped abruptly and pulled out. Only to pick me up effortlessly and turn me around, my back hitting the desk.

He entered me again and with that the world was crashing around me. I’d never come so fast in my life. Watching him in his wolf form growl over me as he pounded me into the afterlife, I wasnt gonna last long.

Seemed like he wasnt either, his thrust got more savage and I got louder. He took his right hand and placed it at my throat again to cut off the noise.

“Be quiet while I shove my knot inside you, I need to concentrate” It made me fall again, shivering while he grinded his knot inside me. He came with a roar, tightening his hands on my throat, cutting off my sound.

“Shhhh, good girl, you did so good” He whispered praises to me while he continued to grind himself inside me. He lifted his hand and I gasped dazed.

He looked up at me and caught my disheveled appearance and grinned.

“Dont move, I’m not done.”

I returned the grin.

“Good Shirou, cause neither am I”

[yoontopia]

𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗷𝗷𝗸

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: detective au; fluff, a smidgen of angst, childhood friends to lovers

rating: 18+ (mentions of assault, domestic abuse and suicide; minor character death, serial killers are mentioned, minor mention of alcohol and weapons, most likely an inaccurate portrayal of policework)

word count: 7.7k

summary: when a case forces you to re-visit your hometown, you’re also forced to re-visit your past and one particular jeon jungkook, your childhood friend, and the man you’d fallen in love with -- while he’d been been engaged to someone else.

author’s note: whew this is me coming back to writing for the first time in a WHILE.  happy (belated) birthday jungkook! I’m sorry for being 8 days late T_T

The first thing you do when you get into work is make coffee. The lieutenant has recently invested in a rather pricey looking coffee machine after giving the entire team a loud and exasperated lecture about “leaving the precinct to take too many coffee breaks”. You can’t say that you complain about this new arrangement.

The second thing you do when you get into work is check the files on your desk. It is when you’re rifling through these, a mug of steaming black liquid next to you, that your partner slaps another folder on your desk.

“What is this?” you ask, looking up at his tired demeanour. Min Yoongi is an excellent detective, but talent and success come at a price. You don’t think the man has ever gotten a good night’s rest.

“A 16-year old girl found murdered by the piers in Busan,” Yoongi says, pulling the chair from the empty desk next to you and subsequently collapsing in it. “The fishermen found her early this morning.”

“Busan?” you ask, the name of your hometown heavy on your tongue. “What business does that have with the Seoul Major Crimes Unit?”

“It becomes our business when you see how she was killed.” Yoongi states, leaning forward and flipping open the file for you. You look down at the medical examiner’s report, light finally shedding on your situation.

“Legs and hands tied with plastic cable ties, throat slashed, face carved into a permanent mangled grin – its Him. The age and description of the girl match with his previous victims and Busan PD asked us to come down since we’re handling The Joker’s case.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “What did I tell you about enabling him?” Yoongi shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

You stare back down at the photos of the crime scene, your brain trying to piece together the information. This particular serial killer – nicknamed The Joker by the general public for the way he dismembered his victims’ faces – had been at large for a couple years now and had murdered five young girls. Well, you muse, the count is up to six now.

“He’s never struck outside Seoul before,” you murmur. In your periphery, Yoongi nods, taking a sip out of his own coffee. “This is so out of his way. Are we sure its not a copycat?”

“I considered that,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “The lead detectives in charge of this case want us to check it out and see if we can figure out of it’s the real deal. If it is The Joker, the case is ours anyway.”

“I know some cops in Busan,” you say, closing the file. You had grown up there and worked there before transferring. “Who’s in charge?” Yoongi stares at you before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper with names scribbled on it.

“Let’s see—the man who called this morning – a Kim Taehyung – do you know him?” You blink.

“Yeah, we-we went to college together,” you say, your voice suddenly hushed.

“Aw that’s cute, a little reunion,” Yoongi grins but then studies your expression. “Is it not a happy occasion?”

“No no,” you laugh weakly. “Taehyung is fine – great actually! He’s good at what he does too. I’m grateful he’s in charge of this one.”

“Great, we leave tomorrow first thing,” Yoongi says, electing to ignore your high voice and nervousness. “I got us KTX tickets for the first train out.”

You nod, swallowing. Kim Taehyung isn’t the problem, it’s who he’s partners with that has your stomach in knots.

Your train pulls into Busan at a very early hour that even coffee can’t fix. You heave your duffel bag over your shoulder and wait for Yoongi to grab his before stepping off onto the platform. Yawning, you look around.

The dawn has left behind a slight fog around the city and the morning October air has a slight chill in it. You haven’t been back in Busan since the day you left, some two years ago. Your parents had moved to Seoul recently, taking with them the only reason you’d ever have to visit this seaside city.

Yoongi hops off the train next to you and looks around. He’s a Daegu native, but knows this city like the back of his hand.

“I booked us a hotel near the crime scene,” is the first thing he says.

“That’s not morbid at all,” you chuckle, and he rolls his eyes. “But first I’m guessing we head straight to the precinct?” Yoongi nods and the two of you opt to share a cab instead of taking the public transport.

Before you know it, you’re getting off at the police department. Two officers at the entrance have been alerted of your arrival and show you the way. Yoongi shoots you a surprised look, but you grin back. Busan has always been known for its friendly and amicable citizens.

When you enter what is obviously the homicide department, Taehyung is the first person you see. He shouts your name from across the room, turning several heads, and bounces towards you like a golden retriever reunited with its long-lost owner.

“That is Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi asks and you’re not sure if he’s impressed or disappointed.

“Its so good to see you!” he says, a boxy grin painting his face. You take him in. Taehyung hasn’t changed much since college, but the dyed blonde hair he used to sport when he was younger has now been swapped for his natural black curls, which bounce every time he walks. “And you must be Detective Min, we spoke on the phone”

“Ah—yes,” Yoongi utters, thoroughly thrown off. You hide a smile.

“Come in, come in! Ah you can leave your bags by my desk for now.” The two of you do as you’re told, and Taehyung then leads you to a small conference room which holds a projector screen, a small round table, and a few chairs.

“I assume you’ve read the case file?” he asks and when you nod, he continues. “We haven’t had anything quite like this before – at least not during my career. I realize the two of you are the leads on The Joker right now, so any help you’re willing to provide is appreciated really.”

“Any new developments?” you ask, pulling out the file from your backpack. Taehyung hums before sitting down across from you.

“The toxicology report came back right as you arrived, I got a text from my partner,” Taehyung says, and you try to keep a straight face. “He’s over there right now he should be here soon, by the way,” You’re thankful that he doesn’t dwell on the topic for too long, most likely out of respect for you. “They found morphine in her system, so we’re inclined to believe that she was drugged before being tied up and killed. Your raise your eyebrows at this piece of information.

“The Joker doesn’t drug his victims.” You state. “They’re all very much awake when he ties them up and slashes their throats. The carved smile is always scratched in post-mortem.”

“Well there are inconsistencies then,” Taehyung says, running a hand through his hair. “All the wounds here were caused after he actually killed her – and that includes… whatever he did to her face.”

“So, we’re looking at a copycat.” You state.

“Or he’s changed his MO.” Yoongi adds.

“He hasn’t changed it for his first five victims what was special about this one that he had to drug her to knock her out first? No, this sounds like someone plotting murder and covering it up. Either way let’s explore all avenues.” You say.

“I agree,” comes a voice from behind you and you almost jump out of your seat. You turn to see the very person you’d been dreading running into since stepping foot on the platform this morning. Jeon Jungkook walks in, two cups in his hands, setting one down in front of Taehyung. He leans over to shake hands with Yoongi, giving you a mere side-glance. He sits down across from the two of you and takes a sip of his drink. Distractedly, you wonder if its coffee – as far as you know he was never a big fan.

The again, you muse, you’re not sure you really know him anymore.

There’s an awkward sort of silence and Yoongi’s body language tells you he’s noticed something’s off. Taehyung clears his throat.

“I’m assuming the two of you will want to check the crime scene out?”

“And the body.” You add. Taehyung nods and stands up.

“Do you want to split up or do both together?” You look at Yoongi.

“Together,” the two of you say at the same time. Yoongi’s smiling. You smile back.

Getting into the back of Taehyung’s sleek black SUV, you watch Yoongi jump in from the other side, dark hair slightly tousled from trying to get some sleep on the train. He’d been your partner for the entirety of your career with the Seoul PD. The two of you had started as rookie cops and had spent the first few months catching small-time criminals. Yoongi was easy to work with, and you’d found a fast friend in him, being alone in a big, unfamiliar city. You closed cases like no one else and before you knew it, the two of you were promoted to Major Crimes as detectives. The Joker was one of your first cases and it was a real thorn in your side that you hadn’t managed to catch the bastard yet.

Jungkook gets in the passenger seat next to Taehyung. He hasn’t so much as addressed you yet, except for agreeing with your previous statement. You had expected as much. He’s still sipping on his drink. Taehyung is talking to one of the officers by the main gate and you take this time to really take in Jungkook’s appearance.

He hasn’t changed – gotten broader maybe. His hair is slightly longer, falling into his eyes. His ears are still pierced in multiple places, although right now he’s only wearing simple rings in both ears. He’s wearing a dark sweatshirt, which you recognize is from the Busan Police Academy as you own the same one. His right hand is littered with tattoos you can’t make out, and they disappear into his arm. That is new and you wonder when he got them done. Unable to help yourself, your eyes travel to his left hand, his ring finger. You’re surprised to find it empty. The last time you saw him, there was definitely a ring there. It was the last time you were in Busan. You haven’t returned since.

“Did Namjoon text you?” Yoongi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. You look at your partner distractedly. “He said he was going to.”

“Oh, I haven’t checked.” You mutter, before pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans. There is an unread message, surely enough from your co-worker.

“Yeah he says Holly’s fine,” You tell Yoongi, scrolling through the message. “He was a little shy last night but seems to have taken a liking to Joon.” Yoongi heaves a sigh of relief. Yoongi was also your roommate back home, and his dog meant more to him more than anything else. You secretly were also extremely fond of the little brown poodle. “He says he’ll send pictures later.” Yoongi scoffs at that.

“He better, I do not trust that man with our dog.” Yoongi says and you smile at his wording. Holly was definitely Yoongi’s dog, you had just moved into his apartment when he was in need of a roommate to help cover the rent. It was so easy to be platonically domestic with Min Yoongi.

“Why didn’t you just leave him with your brother?” you ask, putting your phone away, looking out through the window to see if Taehyung is done.

“Geumjae’s in Daegu for my Mom’s birthday.” you turn to Yoongi in surprise.

“It’s your Mom’s birthday and you’re here?” you ask in surprise. Yoongi shrugs. “Maybe we should stop in Daegu on the way back.”

“I considered it,” he says. “If we have time.”

“I’d like to meet her.” You say warmly.

Jungkook clears his throat and you look at him, having forgotten he’s in the car too. He’s about to say something when Taehyung opens the door and gets in on the driver’s side.

“Sorry,” he says. “We have another ongoing case.”

“It’s not a problem,” Yoongi says. “You could’ve just left us to go do all this by ourselves.”

“No this case takes precedent for us too,” Taehyung says, starting up the car. “Plus, we’re here to help you if you ever need anything.”

The rest of the drive is silent, but its an almost-comfortable type of silence. You look out the window, taking in the familiar streets from your younger years. Nothing really has changed but then again, two years isn’t a long time at all. Or maybe it is. You’re not sure anymore.

“You say she was found near Haeundae?”

“Near the Haeundae market, yes.” Jungkook answers, surprising you. “She hadn’t been in the water and no water was found in her lungs, so she wasn’t drowned. No blood or signs of struggle in the surrounding area meaning she was killed elsewhere and brought to the market. We aren’t sure why this particular location was chosen--”

“The killer wanted her to be found,” you say, your voice soft, cutting him off. “The markets open before anything else. Everyone who lives here knows that.” Jungkook turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since he’d walked into the conference room.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think so too.”

“ID?” Yoongi asks, and either he’s pretending not to feel the tension in the car, or he doesn’t notice it. Knowing Yoongi, it’s probably the former.

“16-year-old Park Sohee,” Jungkook says, turning back to look at the little black notebook he has open. “Attended high school in Haeundae, grew up in the area too.”

“Have you spoken to the parents?” You ask.

“Yesterday,” he replies. “She was on the swim and dive team at school. Had excellent grades and many friends. A popular kid. Parents say she had no enemies, and no boyfriend, and wasn’t involved in anything ‘bad’.”

“Yeah well a parent is always going to say that,” you muse. “Have you spoken with her school? Friends? Swim coach?”

“Not yet. We waited for you.” You nod at that.

“I’d like to see the body after this if that’s okay. Yoongi can go talk to the school.” Yoongi nods beside you.

“Sure, one of us can go with you and the other can go with Detective Min.” Taehyung says, pulling up near the fish markets. You step out of the car, the smell of fish immediately overpowering you. You wrinkle your nose and look around. The market is exactly the same as you remember it. The familiar stalls selling everything from fresh produce to seafood to small trinkets and jewelry. It isn’t too busy right now considering it’s a weekday, which means you can look around easily.

“Nostalgic?” Jungkook asks stepping in beside you. You smile slightly.

“Only a little,” you answer him. “We used to come here a lot.”

“I still do to be honest,” he jokes. “The naengmyeon here is unrivalled.”

“Still?” you ask surprised, and he nods.

“Have some while you’re here,” he says, tossing his now empty cup in the nearby trashcan. “I know you like it.” He’s looking at you once again looking like he wants to say something. You understand, there are so many words left unsaid between you after all. You’re not sure you want to open that door though. Jungkook has always worn his heart on his sleeve.

“Over here,” Taehyung motions from some distance away and the two of you make your way to him. Yoongi is already standing there and he hands you a pair of gloves. Pulling them on, you lift the yellow police tape to make your way to the scene.

“They found her in front of this stall, on her back.”

“On display,” you say, kneeling near the chalk outline of the body. “Killer wanted us to see her face and neck.” You looked up at Jungkook and Taehyung, who were looking at you in confusion.

“It’s another inconsistency,” you say, standing up. “The Joker’s victims are all found face down. This guy totally didn’t do his research considering he was trying to be a copycat.”

“He wanted us to see the slashed throat,” Yoongi says. “He’s an amateur at this.” You nod.

“The cause of death was the morphine, I’m guessing. The wounds were all inflicted post-mortem”

“She had no other inflictions,” Jungkook says. “You can look at the tox screen when we go see the body and talk to the M.E. too.”

“Who found her?”

“A couple fishermen,” Taehyung reads off his notes. “Time of death is approximately 3-4 AM and both their alibis check out, they were out on the docks ready to head out.”

“I say we tell the press we’re convinced it’s the Joker,” you say, taking off your gloves and pocketing them.

“I agree,” pipes up Jungkook.

“Detective Min, if you can come with me to go talk to the family,” Taehyung says to Yoongi and then turns to you. “Go with Jungkook to see the body,” he says. You nod hesitantly, half-hoping it would’ve been the other way around. “We’ll drop you off on our way.”

Before you know it, you’re standing next to Jungkook outside the medical examiner’s office. Jungkook pushes the door open, letting you go through first.

“Hey Jin, I’m back,” he says and you hear a crash and a man appears from behind some shelves. He’s wearing a lab coat, dark hair disheveled. He looks at you.

“Oh, the detective from Seoul I’m guessing!” he says, his voice oddly melodious. “Kim Seokjin, MD.” You shake his hand, grinning and introducing yourself. You already like him.

“She wants to take a look at the body.”

“Of course, of course,” Seokjin says rushing around to the many shelves in the wall, popping one open and pulling out the body of Park Sohee.

You and Jungkook make your way towards it. You peer down at the young girl.

“The morphine is likely what killed her,” Seokjin says, watching you.

“She has bruises,” you say softly, staring at her abdomen. “Post-mortem?”

“No.” Seokjin replies. “She got those when she was alive. The coloring indicates they’re old.”

“Swimming and diving aren’t high contact sports,” you say. “Where did she get these bruises on her arms and chest?”

“You thinking domestic abuse?” Jungkook asks from behind you

“The parents said she didn’t have a partner. How did the parents seem?”

“Upset,” Jungkook starts, then stops. “You think the parents did this?”

“Just considering all options. Her team coach is also a possibility. I won’t know until we’ve checked all of them.” You look down at her again. “A pretty girl.” You say. “Can I have copies of the tox screen?”

“Sure,” Seokjin replies, walking over to his desk to print out a copy. “There isn’t much other than the morphine. An overwhelming amount.”

“Where would they get access to so much morphine?”

“No idea,” he says walking over and handing you the toxicology report, which you subsequently put in your bag. “But it was way over the lethal amount. The killer isn’t an expert on dosage. My guess? Someone who has no idea how killing works.”

You and Jungkook walk out of the building. The afternoon sun is peaking out, making you shed your jacket.

“You hungry?” he asks, and you realize you are. All you’ve had since arriving in Busan is coffee. “There’s a galbi place around here.”

He leads you around the corner into a small restaurant and you enter behind him.

“Jungkookie!” comes an excited voice and you see an elderly woman wearing a flowery apron making her way towards you. “It’s been a while!”

Jungkook grins at the woman and greets her politely and she ushers you over to a small table by the window facing the busy street. Handing you a menu, she smiles kindly at you.

“You’re a regular?” you ask.

“I used to be. It’s been a while honestly.”

You scan the menu, your mouth immediately watering.

“The dak-galbi here is unreal,” he tells you and you pretend to throw the menu away.

“Well how dare I eat anything else then!” Jungkook laughs, high and melodic. Its been a while since you’ve heard that laugh. “Let us split the dak-galbi. I also want rice.”

Jungkook gets up and walks over to the counter himself to give your order. You watch him, a small smile on your face. He collapses back in his seat, bringing over two glasses of water.

“So,” he says.

“What’s with the tattoos.” You blurt out, eyeing his hand. He stares down at it too.

“Wanted a change, I guess,” he says slowly. “Life was getting pretty dull around here.”

“So, you got inked,” you say grinning. He grins back.

“I’m happy this isn’t awkward,” he says after a while and you freeze. “I’m glad we can sit and talk like this still.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Me too.”

“About back then—” he starts, and you sigh. You want desperately to avoid this conversation but Jungkook, ever the straight arrow, has never liked underlying tension, and prefers everything laid out on the table in front of him. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t apologize for your feelings,” you tell him, but he shakes his head vigorously.

“No, I am sorry,” his tone is firm. “I ruined our friendship, made everything weird and drove you away. I know I’m the reason you’ve avoided this place until now and even now you’re only here because you have to be—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt gently, and he halts mid-rant, his doe-like eyes wide. “Stop talking. I’m the one who’s sorry. I acted immature and it was me who ruined everything, not you. I didn’t come back because-because it hurt at first and then I didn’t come back because I thought you’d be happier without having to deal with me.”

“How could you think that?” He’s gripping the table, knuckles white. It makes the ink on his hand stand out even more. You see a sketch of a small rose, about an inch tall, right below his index finger, and bite your lip. “You were my best friend.”

“It’s different now,” you assure him, still staring at the rose. It’s staring back at you, a silent taunt. It brings up repressed memories you rather not face. “Things are different. I’m happy—in Seoul. Please don’t blame yourself for everything that happened. I wasn’t angry to see you, I was just worried you wouldn’t want to see me. I’m happy now and I’ve moved on from all that.”

“With Yoongi.” Jungkook says, and you’re not sure why he sounds so bitter.

“With Yoongi, yes,” you say. Yoongi’s your work partner and a steady shoulder when you need one. He’s your roommate and best friend. Seoul is lonely and even after two years of living there, he’s one of your only friends. But as soon as you say it, something in Jungkook’s expression shifts, like a door slamming shut. He sits back. “He’s the best partner anyone can ask for, and a damn good detective.”

Jungkook nods once, jaw clenched. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, your food arrives and you’re too hungry to think of much else.

After that, the two of you only make polite small talk. There’s no tension but you can’t help but feel like the wall that was crumbling has somehow repaired itself. Jungkook’s phone rings as he’s finishing his rice.

“Tae, hey,” he says, phone in his left hand as he eats with his right. You distractedly wonder why he doesn’t wear his ring anymore. “Okay sounds good. No, we can just walk to the station its only a couple blocks. Yeah man see you there.”

“They done talking to the school?”

“Yeah they’ll fill us in when we get there.”

“So, what’s the deal?” Yoongi asks, his lithe body curled up on the hotel armchair in your room. His room is next door, but the two of you had ordered room service for dinner. Empty bowls of jajangmyeon lie littered on the small side table next to him.

“The deal with what?”

“Detective Jeon,” You turn to Yoongi and fix him with a stare. Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“Nonsense,” you reply.

“You two have a history? It got seriously weird at times today.”

“No history—it’s the same as Taehyung, we attended the police academy together. Taehyung was a couple years ahead of us though.”

“And?”

“And I’ve also attended middle school and high school with Jungkook. He was my neighbour growing up.”

“Ah childhood friends,” Yoongi hums. “But what went wrong?”

“What makes you think something went wrong?”

“Because you left behind a perfectly good life here when you moved to Seoul? Because you never talk about these people? Before today I didn’t even know of them. And also, because you were absolutely dreading coming here.” You sigh, hating Yoongi’s astute personality.

“Jungkook found out how I felt,” You say quietly. “About him.”

“Oh.”

“While he had a girlfriend.”

“…Oh.”

“Who he was engaged to.”

“What the fuck,” Yoongi’s tone makes you giggle, relieving the pain a little.

“Obviously, he never felt the same way, but then things got so weird. It was like we could never go back to what was. Jungkook skirted around me, his girlfriend hated my guts, I had to avoid our whole friend-group because all of his friends were my friends. It felt claustrophobic.”

“So, you left.”

“Not exactly,” you say. “I wasn’t actively looking to run away, but when the option to move was presented to me, I hesitated way less than I originally would have.”

“And are you still in love with him?” Yoongi asks, voice casual.

“I don’t know,” you reply, thinking of the small rose tattooed on Jungkook’s hand. It’s easier to deny. “It’s been two years and as far as I know he could be married by now.”

“I didn’t see a ring,” Yoongi answers, like the detective he is. “And that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say. “He was head over heels for Jangmi.”

“What a delicate name,” Yoongi muses.

“She was the delicate kind,” you agree. “Kind, pretty, gentle – just like her name—like a rose.”

“Every rose has its thorns though,” Yoongi says wisely. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Who?”

“Detective Jeon. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You’re such a romantic at heart Min,” You tease. Yoongi only smiles softly in return. “It doesn’t matter. Jungkook’s life is here and mine is in Seoul. After we wrap this case up, I probably won’t see him again. I’m happy with my life right now.”

“Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, it’ll one day become the truth.”

“Anyway, go over what you saw with the victim’s school again.” You sit on your bed cross-legged, your go-to posture when you’re trying to focus.

“Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. Her swim coach is a well-respected man. Usually men in power take advantage of multiple people under them but none of the other girls in the team seemed out of sorts to me. Her teachers all spoke highly of her—she really did have excellent grades. It seemed she was friendly with everyone in her class and on her team. I’ve hit a block.”

“That’s frustrating.”

“The bruises you mentioned are bothering me,” Yoongi adds. “They don’t seem to have an explanation and the parents seemed surprised when we asked them about it.”

“Alibis for the parents?”

“Asleep at home,” he hums. “No way for us to check that. Sohee was on her way back from swim practice and when she didn’t show up at home at the regular time by 10pm her mother started worrying. They claimed they would call the police the next day, but of course it was too late.”

“They didn’t think their daughter not showing up at home was a cause for panic?” You ask. “It’s weird to me. She wasn’t the rebellious type, so this must not have been normal behaviour.”

“You’re set on the parents, aren’t you?” Yoongi grins, stretching his legs out.

“It’s just this feeling, I don’t even have an explanation for it.”

“A hunch.”

“Yes but no proof,” You grit your teeth in frustration.

It rains on your second day in Busan. You roll out of bed to the sound of the tell-tale pitter patter and groan. Getting ready and putting on the jeans from yesterday along with a black dress shirt, you hop around trying to tuck it into the waistband. There’s a knock on your door and you open it to greet Jungkook.

“Oh—hey,” he is not who you expected to be at your door so early in the morning.

“Your partner left your hotel info with Tae.” He says, curious eyes peering around your hotel room. You quirk a small smile and let him in. He sits down on the chair Yoongi was occupying last night.

“So, what’s up?”

“We found a suspiciously large amount of money in a savings account under Park Sohee’s name,” Jungkook is still looking around your room curiously and you don’t know why.

“Suspicious?”

“She was sixteen,” he says. “What’s a 16 year old doing with fifty million won?” Your eyes widen at the amount.

“Do her parents know?”

“We’re going down to see them now that’s why I’m here.” Jungkook stands up. “Where’s Min?”

“In his room probably. He’s not a morning person.” Jungkook blinks down at you.

“You two aren’t sharing a room?”

“Huh?” You pause mid-way of packing your backpack for the day. “Why would we?”

“Because… you’re together—wait what,” Jungkook looks so confused you almost find it adorable.

“What the fuck Jeon, we’re not together – not like that.” You say.

“B-but yesterday you said you’d moved on with him—”

“Yes, as partners – you know? The thing we do for work.” You’re trying not to laugh.

“B-but you own a dog together and live together.”

“We’re cops, Jeon, not billionaires. Rent in Seoul is atrocious, he’s my roommate. Also, Holly is Yoongi’s dog, not mine.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook hides his face behind his hands and sits back down. You’re laughing. “I’m sorry for assuming.”

“You know—you should ask Yoongi how Jung Hoseok is doing.” You say, grinning.

“Who?” Jungkook looks up.

“His boyfriend,” you’re trying hard not to burst back into giggles. “Lives in Gwangju on a temporary assignment. The guy whose room I’m technically renting out. They were roommates before getting together. When he had to move out for work, Yoongi needed someone to help cover the rent.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans, hiding behind his hands again. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say laughing. “Easy mistake to make… I think?” Jungkook is looking at you from in-between his fingers.

“So then, are you seeing anyone?” His direct tone throws you off. You turn to fully look at him, but a knock on the door interrupts you both.

It’s Yoongi, and he doesn’t look surprised to see Jungkook in your room.

“Taehyung texted me,” he says. “Detective Jeon,” he adds in greeting.

“Please,” Jungkook smiles, “call me Jungkook.” Yoongi raises both his eyebrows and looks at you in question and you’re trying to fight laughter once again.

The ride to the victim’s parents’ house is quiet. Taehyung drives and you spend the time pondering over Jungkook’s words from earlier. He’d been angry yesterday because he’d assumed you and Yoongi were together. You frown to yourself because nothing makes sense. Had he fallen out with Jangmi? But it’s not like Jungkook had ever thought about you as anything other than a friend. You remember his words from back then, loud and clear, and they come back to you now.

“I’m sorry.”

You remember his apologetic eyes, the glint of his wedding band; he had looked like a child who’d been told off. You hate that look, the pity staring down at you. But most of all you hate the fact that you’d been rejected before you’d even had a chance to explain. A mutual friend had let the cat out of the bag at a party, and Jungkook being Jungkook had confronted you right away. None of it had been on your own terms.

You’d brushed it off as a small crush, defence mechanisms kicking in, but things had never been the same afterwards. Jungkook had always been good at seeing right through you and he could tell you’d been lying about the depth of your feelings.

You clench your fist. Moving to Seoul had meant burying all this behind you, pretending none of it had happened, forgetting about Jungkook and how madly in love you’d been with him. You’d always been good at compartmentalizing, it’s what made you a good cop. You’d ignored everything for two years. Until now.

Yoongi calls your name, breaking you out of your reverie. You’re at Park Sohee’s home, but you can see from your seat in the car that the main door is ajar. Jungkook is already tossing you a vest which you hastily put on. He pulls out his gun and exits out the car. The three of you follow suit.

“Stand guard at the back, we’ll clear the house.” Taehyung tells you and you and Yoongi nod. The two of you position yourself near the backdoor. After about 10 minutes you hear Jungkook shout. The backdoor opens, and his head peeks out.

“Father missing, but we found his wife,” at your expression, he continues, “Dead, in the bathtub. Overdosed, it seems, in an apparent suicide. She left a note.” He holds up a piece of paper.

“Her husband, a nasty man, is our guy.”  

“Where is he?”

“Taehyung is putting a trace on his credit cards and cellphone as we speak.”

You’re reading the note, disgust piling up inside you. Sohee’s father had been an abusive man, and she was planning on running away and going to the police. She sold some of her clothes and other belongs to earn money through the years. The mother, an abused woman herself was complicit in the crime but had been unable to handle the guilt.

“This man killed his daughter and is directly responsible for another woman’s death. We better find him.”

At that moment, Taehyung appears at the door.

“Got him, let’s go.”

“When we said he was amateur at this, I didn’t mean this amateur.” You say, staring at the balding man through the one-sided mirror.

“He panicked when his daughter threatened to go to the police and killed her in a fit of rage. Then he tried to cover it up.”

“Only a psychopath tries to copy other psychopaths.” Yoongi says behind you. Jungkook is in the interrogation room, dark jeans and a dark t-shirt on, looking like he’s going to strangle the living daylights out of Park Sohee’s killer. His arms are bare for the first time since you’ve been back, and you can see the black ink swirling all the way up and disappearing into his sleeve. They’re all little designs, instead of a cohesive piece, as though he got them done separately.

“When are you guys heading out?” Taehyung asks. “We should at least grab a drink before you go.”

“We managed to get in on a train this evening,” Yoongi says apologetically. “Duty calls back home.”

“We’re still going to stop in Daegu for the night to wish Yoongi’s mother a happy birthday.” You tell Taehyung. “Early morning tomorrow, we head back to Seoul.”

“That’s too bad,” Taehyung nudges you playfully. “We barely had time to catch up.” You smile slightly, still staring at Jungkook, who’s coaxing a confession out of the man. You can’t deny that you want to leave Busan as soon as possible, but somewhere deep inside your heart breaks.

Park Sohee’s father confesses not too shortly after that and the case is officially closed. Taehyung suggests a late lunch at a nearby restaurant as a final get-together before you and Yoongi have to leave in the evening. Jungkook doesn’t say much throughout the meal, only offering a distracted smile every now and then.

When the four of you are heading out Jungkook grabs your wrist.

“Can we talk?” he asks and you look over at Yoongi who gives you a small smile.

“I’ll meet you at the train station tonight then,” is all he says before pulling Taehyung away towards his car. Jungkook is still looking at you.

“Walk with me,” he says, and you do, falling into step beside him. “I think we need to clear up some misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

“I broke up with Jangmi,” he starts and you’re genuinely surprised to hear that. “Actually—she broke up with me. It’s been over a year since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say carefully, hating yourself for the selfish happiness that blooms inside you. “What happened?”

“She left me for someone else,” Jungkook says, smiling lightly. He doesn’t look hurt. “Someone who can love her way more than I ever could.”

“That’s so not true,” you argue back. “You loved her.”

“I did,” he agrees, and you try not to wince. It’s harder to hear it than say it. “To an extent. When she left, I didn’t cry. In fact, I was barely upset, and I hated myself even more for that. But then Jangmi pointed something out that made me see things very clearly.”

“What was that?” you whisper. The two of you are standing beside Nakdong river now, cyclists and runners passing by you in the blink of an eye. The air smells fresh and cold, the rain having left behind a chill and bright blue sky.

“She pointed out that I was more upset when you moved away than I was when she told me there was someone else for her.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Oh.” Is all you say.

“When I apologized yesterday, for ruining everything, I meant that I was sorry that I was so confused. My confusion and indecisiveness ruined everything. When everything became clear to me, you were already gone.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?” you ask, your voice still hushed.

“I tried,” he is being earnest now. “Your parents had already moved to Seoul, and I contacted Kim Jooyoung from school to see if she knew of your contact information, she was your best friend in college after all. All she had was a cellphone and a landline phone number, but it was worth a shot. When I called, your old roommate picked up and said you’d moved in with some guy. When I tried your cellphone, it was dead.”

“Oh I-I changed my number,” you say, your voice shaky. “I don’t even remember why now—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jungkook’s voice is urgent. “Before today I’d made peace with the fact that you were the one that got away. I could look you up using my connections but until today I was under the assumption you’d moved on. But you’re here now, by some miracle, if I can even call it that given the circumstances, but to me its too big of a coincidence to just pass up.”

You watch him quietly. He’s slightly out of breath and the wind ruffles through his dark hair.

“You never got to answer my question from earlier,” he says. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“N-no I’m not but—” You never get to finish your sentence because Jungkook is leaning in and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come up to rest on your shoulders, then your neck and then your cheeks, which he grazes with his thumbs. Once you get over your initial shock, you reach up to tentatively grasp his t-shirt on both sides. He tastes like the hot chocolate he had with his lunch. You feel his tongue tentatively swiping at you and you open yourself up to him. Immediately, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

After what feels like both, and eternity and a few short seconds, he pulls away. His lips are glistening and swollen and he’s out of breath.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, hands still cupping your cheeks. “Stay here.” Slowly, you pull away, resting a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

“You’re asking a lot of me,” you start. “My entire life is in Seoul, Jungkook, I can’t just up and leave—”

“You just up and left Busan,” he says, and you freeze. Studying your sudden shift in expression, he hastily corrects himself, “I didn’t mean it like that. That came out wrong.”

“Jungkook,” you say, hoping you sound more patient than you feel. “Things are different now; I’m almost settled down in Seoul. I love Busan, I do, but I have no intention of moving back here. My family lives in Seoul now too and my lease with Yoongi isn’t even up, and I love my job, I wouldn’t dream to leave it.” Jungkook abruptly pulls away. “And I won’t ask you to leave Busan, I know how much you love it here.”

“Then what now,” he asks, a small smile on his face. “That’s it? You leave tonight and I never hear from you again?”

“I never said that,” you say softly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic is my middle name,” he mumbles, and you giggle.  “Do you at least feel the same way?”

“Of course, I do,” you say. “Otherwise I’d have pushed you into the river by now for your advances. Give me some time to think things through alright?”

“But—”

“We have a case back home that needs us, I really do have to go back today. Yoongi’s visiting his family tonight and I’ve made him a promise to come along and they’re expecting me. I won’t go back on that.”

Jungkook is now silent, staring wordlessly at you.

“Do you trust me?” you ask.

“Yes.” He answers. There’s no hesitation in his voice. You smile.

Six Months Later

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks. The party is in full swing, loud music almost drowning out his voice. He’s holding a cup of clear liquid in his hands and you doubt it’s water.

“Yeah it’s not a problem, I can watch Holly for the weekend.”

“I’ll drop him off on Friday then,”

“That’s fine! You and Hobi deserve the weekend away.”

“But it’s not a hassle for you? It’s your weekend off too,”

“Yoongi I’m not going to try and convince you to let me take care of your dog in the middle of Hoseok’s welcome-back-bash.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Hoseok slithers in next to you, tossing an arm around your neck.

“Yoongi’s worried about his dog,” you roll your eyes. “This has never happened before.”

“I’m not worried,” Yoongi seethes, making you and Hoseok laugh. “I just don’t want my dog being neglected because you and Jeon are copulating like rabbits all weekend.” Blood rushes to your ears and you grit your teeth.

“Jungkook’s going to be too busy this weekend for that, I promise you.”

“Oh yeah, has he found an apartment yet?” Hoseok asks conversationally.

“Yeah, he’s signing the lease on Friday, and then moving here over the weekend.”

“And he starts work on Monday?” You nod.

“The Organized Crime boys are gonna love him,” Yoongi grins. “Man will fit right in. Where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since you two arrived.”

“Right here Min,” Jungkook pops out of nowhere, a wide grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes. “What’s up?”

“Yoongi thinks we aren’t responsible enough to take care of his precious dog.”

“I believe the phrase he used was, ‘copulating like rabbits’” Hoseok chimes in unhelpfully. You elbow him in the stomach. Jungkook eyes you, grin fading a little and you recognize the dangerous spark in his eyes.

“Well he’s not wrong—” he starts, but is met by loud interruptions from you, Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Too much information!” Yoongi yells, downing his drink. “You two are disgusting! Lets go Hobi.”

Jungkook comes up to you, still grinning slyly and you automatically slip your arm around his waist.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” you ask, looking up at him. Jungkook has an arm around your shoulder as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Bit too late to ask me that, don’t you think babe?” You pinch his waist and he yells out loud. “I didn’t move to Seoul for you, I moved here for the job.”

“Ha. Ha,” you roll your eyes, but a part of you knows it’s partially true anyway. Long distance between Busan and Seoul hadn’t treated you too badly and things had been going surprisingly well. You were a good five months into your newfound relationship when there had been a sudden opening in the Organized Crime unit, a real step-up for Jungkook’s career. Jungkook had told you once he’d applied for the job that he’d have applied anyway regardless if you were in the picture or not, and you appreciated his honesty. Both of you had always been the type to put your careers first, but you couldn’t believe your luck that things had just fallen into place like this. You’re happy for him.

“Although having you here is a pretty sweet bonus,” Jungkook adds, making you smile. The two of you stand there in silence, arm-in-arm, enjoying the celebrations from afar.

[chaseatinydream]

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes (i) || p.sh (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x park seonghwa (ateez)

➳ word count: 7146

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff

➳ synopsis: by the intervention of fate (namely Choi San), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

>>>

Park Seonghwa is, decidedly, what most of the school population would call a bad boy.

With his jet black lip piercing and dyed blonde hair that is clearly in rebellion against every dress code in school, he’s exactly the sort of boy your parents warn you against. The black leather jacket he wears in place of his uniform tie and blazer doesn’t really help his image at all, and you’re sure you’ve seen him step into school at precisely twelve in the afternoon from the window of your classroom, long after lessons have started.

You’ve known Seonghwa for a long time, since elementary school, back in the days when his hair was still its natural shade of soft ebony and his lips curved up in a soft smile instead of the thin, sharp line it does now. With silent eyes you’ve observed him over the years, watching as the death of his mother struck him as hard as a speeding car and doing a million times the damage, witnessing his transformation from the boy with the cute, candy like smile to the young man with hard, cold eyes and even steelier fists.

A few years, your heart broke for him as you watched him turn away from the light and walk into the shadows without a backwards glance, casting his life away into a hopeless abyss. But as time passed, the memory of that young, lost boy reaching out for his mother’s hand faded, replaced by bruised and bleeding knuckles, split lips and cold eyes.

You had stopped keeping track of how many piercings he’d gotten when you couldn’t count them on your fingers anymore.

Students whisper about him behind closed doors every time he passes them in the corridor, citing unknown sources and rumours about smoking, gang fights, drugs, the usual deal. Girls chatter mindlessly about his good looks, he’s strikingly handsome, you have to admit, but his arctic gaze is enough to keep them at least five feet away. No one dares to cross him, not even the teachers and school authority, and honestly, it’s a miracle he’s still even in this school.

He’s part of a circle of friends the school calls ATEEZ. Their leader, Kim Hongjoong, has kept his mullet for the last three years of high school, completely ignoring the repeated warnings that the school gives him, because who dares to touch him anyway as the eldest son of one of the richest men in Korea? Some you know by face, some by name, but you’ve never met, much less talked to any of them before. Instead, you keep your distance, not wanting to be mixed up in their troubles when they come roaring into school with jet black motorbikes, smirks and bruised fists.

It’s been exactly six years since Seonghwa’s mother passed, and you’re walking to school in the morning. Your earbuds are plugged in, the radio’s on and you’re just listening mindlessly to anything that comes over the station, scrolling through your Instagram feed. Oh. San is considering adopting his third stray cat, the ‘vote yes or no’ option beneath his story.

You click ‘no’, your best friend already has two stray cats and a Shiba Inu in his house, and Shiber is terrified of the felines. It’s a miracle how Shiber even got used to Darong and Puchi, but you doubt that he’ll get used to yet another stray invading his personal territory.

Turning and entering the back gate, you’re stepping across the grounds to your classroom block when your phone suddenly pings with a flurry notifications.

It can only be one person.

[Green Mountain] how could u not let me adopt yobu hes gonna be so sad u know TT

[Green Mountain] retribution on you and your kids and your grandkids and your great grandkids

[Green Mountain] why are we even friends

You roll your eyes, feet crunching on the dry leaves under the soles of your shoes as you type out a reply.

[You] What’s the point of asking for my opinion if you’ve already named him and adopted him San

You’re nearing the back of the school building when you hear a sniffing sound. You pause in your tracks for a moment, wondering if someone is crying from the stress of the exams that are coming in a week, before a soft achoo reaches your ears.

You barely have time to be surprised before the little sneeze is followed by a rapid series of more, each sounding more adorable to your ears than the ones before. There’s another sniffle and a sneeze, and you can’t help your lips curving up in a smile. Perhaps spending too much time around San has made you soft, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You fish out a handkerchief from your pocket, since it’s the first day of the week, you haven’t used it yet. The person behind the noise must have gotten a cold from the chilly autumn weather, so you think they might appreciate the gesture. Stepping up the stairs to your classroom block, you turn the corner around the building with your handkerchief outstretched and a gentle smile already in place.

“Hey, I heard you were sneezing so I thought you might want this...” Your voice trails off as your eyes widen, seeing the infamous Park Seonghwa leaning against the wall, hand over his mouth and nose, your own shock mirrored on his face.

For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other in stunned silence.

You’ve always admired him in the same way people appreciate statues in art museums, from afar, studying each and every feature but never quite understanding the full story behind the carved jawline, the sculpted nose, the mysterious dark eyes. But this is the first time you’re seeing him up close in the dappled morning rays, someone so far away and untouchable, and you see the flaws that mar what you had once thought was near perfect skin, a bruise at the corner of his mouth, a scrape on his cheekbone, the white scar across his left eyebrow.

His handsome features pinch into a wary scowl when he sees you, straightening up his originally relaxed position against the wall. You’re a little intimidated by his height as he towers over you by at least a head, giving you a dark glare. “Get out of my sight. I don’t need your help-” The words are cut off by a massive sneeze that sends him burying his face in his hands, before he starts hacking furiously, alternating between adorable sneezes and baby-like coughs.

A snort escapes you before you can stop it and he actually pauses to give you a murderous look, right before he goes back to sneezing.

Oh my god, you think in your panic induced haze, he’s going to kill you to stop rumours of his childlike sneeze from spreading around the school.

You fight down the urge to laugh in this terrifying situation, instead focusing on the predicament you’re in. You’re trapped between a rock and a hard place, right before a person with one of the most feared and sordid reputations in the entire school. Give him the handkerchief and risk his anger, or leave without lending him a hand and still perhaps bring his wrath down upon you?

In the end, you simply do what you had set out to do in the first place.

“Here!” You practically shout in his face, trying to muster as much courage as possible so your voice doesn’t tremble, but it betrays you anyway in spite of your efforts. Thrusting the white handkerchief into his hands, you do some sort of awkward bow before the idea can run through your mind fully and your face turns tomato red in embarrassment. “I hope you get better soon!”

And then you spin on your heel and dash into the classroom block before you can die from shame of it all.

“Hey, wait-” Seonghwa calls after you, but you’re already gone, leaving nothing but your white handkerchief in his hand.

“You’re late today.” San remarks in a surprised voice when you slide into the seat next to his, panting for air from your little dash to class.

“I was lending someone a handkerchief. And you’re early.” You turn to the window, making a big show of searching the sky. “I don’t see any pigs, falling or flying… so I must be dreaming.”

“Well, I had to come early to school so my chauffeur could fetch Yobu back to the mansion for me.” Your best friend remarks with a shrug, and a silly, goofy smile crosses his face for a moment at the thought of the adorable one eared ragdoll cat. “I couldn’t leave him waiting here in the cold.”

“I swear the reason all these cats relate so much to you is because of this.” You tug at the thick leather choker resting against his throat, fingers brushing the cool metal of the round, silver studs on it. “If we just add a bell to this, you might as well be an actual cat, Sanie.”

Your best friend merely grins, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you expectantly. “And I suppose that’s…?”

Laughing, you pull a small cardboard box from your school bag, opening it and presenting it to San proudly. It’s a small silver bell, one that reminds you of one on a cat’s collar. The moment you had laid eyes on it at the mall, you had known it would be perfect for him. You gesture for his arm and he stretches it out to you with an amused smile on his face, your fingers fiddling with the friendship bracelet on his wrist. Undoing the clasp, you slide the silver piece onto the bracelet with nimble fingers where it rests next to the Siamese cat charm, the bell making a soft jingling sound.

“Ooh, pretty!” San inspects it with shining eyes, smiling broadly at you. He then takes out his own box, a red jewelry affair with the name of some expensive brand stamped on the lid in bright silver. Your breath catches in your throat as you catch a glimpse of it, the box is probably worth more than the entire charm you bought San.

“Sanie, you know I don’t like it when you buy me stuff like that…”

Your best friend pauses in opening the box, mouth turning down in a sad frown as he looks at you with earnest eyes. “But I want to do it for you. You’re my best friend, and I want to spend my money on you to show you how important you are to me.” You waver at his words, heart sinking as you feel like you’re making use of him for his wealth. But you know San is determined, and besides, he’s already bought the charm, so you sigh and try to fix him with a stern gaze.

“This is the last time, alright?”

San’s face cheers up in a split second.

“Alright!” He whoops, putting the charm of a Norwegian Forest Cat on your bracelet. It feels heavy, probably made of silver and custom made to boot. It’s been your tradition for the last two years of school. Every day, on the first day of a new semester, the two of you had promised to buy each other a charm to celebrate your friendship. Somehow, every charm the two of you had bought for you had ended up being some breed of cat, so you suppose that you’ve broken tradition for the first time today by giving him a bell instead. When San fixes the clasp of your bracelet, he grins at you and pats you on the head.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

You kick him in the shin. “I said this is the last time, you goof. Don’t go getting any ideas.”

San pouts at you, shaking his head so that his dark brown hair falls into his eyes, showing off the red streaks in them. Your eyes widen in alarm and smack him on the arm as he lounges back in his chair casually, placing his booted feet on the table. “I thought I told you to get rid of those last week before school started!”

Your best friend whistles cheerily, feigning ignorance. “I promised nothing.”

San, for all the adorableness he holds, is too, part of ATEEZ. A certified bad boy, a definite troublemaker. Everything on him, from the designer white shirt with scrawled designs all over it to the multiple silver piercings in his ears to the striking red coat he has slung over his chair, screams rebel in response to every dress code in existence. San rebels, but he at least does it with style.

On the first day of school when the two of you been assigned to seats next to each other in class, the very first thing he’d done upon meeting you was to rip off his tie and declare to you loudly about how the colour scheme of the tie was absolutely hideous when matched with the shade of the blazer. He had then proceeded to rant to you all about the material of the blazer and the undershirt, and you don’t think you’ve seen him in uniform since that day.

Well, you suppose he knows what he’s talking about, considering that he’s the heir to one of the biggest fashion conglomerates in the country. Besides, you’ve stolen that red coat more times you can count on cold days and it often spends the night over at your house when San makes you wear it home.

“What kind of name for a cat is Yobu, though?” You ask San, shaking your head at him as the teacher walks into the classroom. He simply grins at you, tweaking one of his many earrings with amusement.

“A friend of mine chose it-” He begins to explain excitedly, but then your teacher clears her throat in front of the two of you hesitantly and San’s expression darkens, looking up to glance at her as if she’s a pesky fly he’d like to smack. The teacher’s face drains of colour.

“What is it, Ms Kim?” His voice is dripping with venom and you feel your face flush at his bad attitude. You tug on his ear and he yelps in pain, turning back to pout at you.

“Ow! Why are you bullying me?” San sulks like a little kid and you can’t help but swat at his arm. The teacher, drawing a little courage from seeing San being steamrolled into submission by you, pipes up.

“Mr Choi… you’re not supposed to be sitting there-”

That’s her mistake.

San’s eyes turn glacial as he turns to face her slowly, gazing down his nose at her imperiously, dangerously like a cobra waiting to strike. San isn’t loud and quick to anger like some of his other friends are, but he’s no less dangerous with that vicious, poisonous mind of his. The teacher falls silent immediately, none of the other students willing to help her out lest they get on his bad side.

“I’ve said it at the beginning of term and I’ll say it again.” San enunciates every word slowly and precisely, his dark gaze never wavering from the teacher’s eyes. You can almost imagine it, a monstrous serpent like aura looming behind your best friend, frightening everyone before him into submission. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his gaze, but you hear people describing the experience to be akin to staring down the barrel of a gun. “I’m sitting besides her and no one else. Did you not hear me the first time?”

“Mr Choi, I’m just doing my job-”

“Do. You. Understand.”

His last words are nothing like a question, instead carrying a more mocking tone. The threat is like a loaded gun, the bullet unseen and hidden in the chambers of the weapon, but the finger is already resting on the trigger, eager to fire. Your teacher pales at his words, fingers trembling against her binder.

You feel bad for her, so you gently tug at San’s sleeve, pulling his razor sharp gaze away from your teacher. “Hey, San, I’m not going anywhere. How about you start thinking about ways we can get Shiber to warm up to Yobu when we go over to your house later while I have lessons?”

His face brightens right away, the icy look melting right off like snow in the summer at the thought of Yobu and Shiber playing together. “Of course! Why didn’t I think about that?” Pulling a piece of paper from your bag, he swipes one of the pens off your table and begins jotting down ideas and names of cat treats. His attention off the teacher, the entire classroom heaves a simultaneous sigh of relief.

Your teacher takes five minutes to calm her racing heart before the lesson begins.

Seonghwa sits at the bench at the school gates, waiting for the rest of his friends.

Golden and red leaves spiral through the air, caught and tossed around by the autumn winds as they flutter to the ground like clipped butterfly wings. They fall to the ground, devoid of the green freshness of spring, dead and utterly lifeless. He remembers the limp hand of his mother, her fair skin drenched in crimson lifeblood, the drunk driver having crashed right into the side of his mother’s car as she returned home from buying him supper. She’d died on the spot, right before any the ambulances and paramedics arrived.

His fingers curl around the dry maple leaves, crushing them and scattering them with the wind. He hates the autumn. All it brings is death and pain.

“Hyung!”

He’s pulled from his thoughts and turns around to see three of the five 99’ liners stepping out of the school gates, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. A smile crosses his face briefly. No matter how terrifying of an image he might have to others, he has a soft spot for the rest of the boys in ATEEZ. All of them have stuck together through thick and thin, supporting each other no matter the struggle, Wooyoung through his addiction and Jongho through his fits of violent rage, Hongjoong with his familial conflicts at home and so much more. They’re like family to him, he briefly wonders, before his eyes darken at the thought of his drunken father back in the house they share.

He forces the thought from his mind, instead looking upon his friends’ faces, frowning in confusion.

“Why are you smiling so much, Sanie?”

The boy in question merely grins wider, tucking his hands into his pockets as he dodges a kick Wooyoung aims at him. “Wooyoungie tripped on Mingi’s shoe and fell down the stairs earlier.”

Mingi stifles a laugh at Wooyoung’s flat expression.

The sleeves of San’s white shirt are rolled up, showing the cat charm bracelet dangling from his wrist. The silver bits and bobs usually tinkle and jingle, letting everyone in the area that San is coming, but today, the sound seems to be especially prominent. Seonghwa’s eyes rake over the charms, counting five, six, seven…

He spots a silver cat bell dangling at the end.

“Did you get a new charm, San?” Seonghwa asks, curious and San nods proudly, preening in front of his hyung. The bell jingles once more, as if showing off to Seonghwa.

“She got it for me!” He smiles widely, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. San doesn’t need to say who it is for Seonghwa to know. Aside from ATEEZ, San has no friends… except a mysterious girl that San doesn’t want mixed up in their business.

“Can’t have Wooyoung seducing her from me.” He’d joked once, to Wooyoung’s not so amused amusement.

But Seonghwa can understand why San wouldn’t want his friend to be associated with them. From the way San speaks about her ever so often, she seems to be a quiet, mild tempered girl who focuses hard on her studies and can even miraculously convince San to revise for the upcoming exams with her in the school library. Being related to them in any way could stain her pristine reputation, make it difficult for her to attain any student leadership positions in the school that were vital to a portfolio, or even make any friends in general.

Honestly, Seonghwa doesn’t know why she would stick with San.

But San is happy when he speaks about her. He’s clearly fond of her, he’d even dragged all of them to search for a suitable charm for her birthday gift.

Then a ticklish feeling rises in his nose and he pulls the handkerchief from his pocket, sneezing into it. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the piece of white cloth has saved him so many trips to the convenience store nearby to buy a pack of tissue. Looking down on it, he sighs as he looks the handkerchief over. It’s a piece of plain white cloth, without embellishment or embroidery, nothing outstanding to set it apart from others physically, but unique, because it was there for him when he needed it. Just like the girl who’d given it to him, he thinks to himself with another sigh, wondering how exactly he’s going to find her and return the handkerchief to her.

He doesn’t remember much about how she looks, having been trying to stop himself from sneezing in front of her when she’d literally thrown the handkerchief in his face and shouted at him to get better, before she dashed away faster than Usain Bolt on steroids.

Honestly, who still uses handkerchiefs in this day and age?

“Did you catch a cold, hyung?” Ever perceptive Wooyoung asks curiously, before spotting the handkerchief in his hand. “I didn’t know you used handkerchiefs, though.”

For some reason, something in his voice is completely judgemental and even though Seonghwa feels the same, he can’t help but feel like he needs to defend the girl who gave it to him, at least. Then he catches himself, frowning. Wooyoung’s too curious for his own good, tell him a little and the he’ll have her name, class, blood type, age, address, favourite food down to a tee tomorrow.

Besides, Seonghwa wants to do this by himself.

So Seonghwa shakes his head.

“It’s not mine. A girl gave it to me in the morning, but I don’t know who it was. I owe her a word of thanks, at least.”

Mingi raises an eyebrow, teeth fiddling with the silver piercing on his lower left lip absentmindedly. “Someone approached you, hyung?’ He sounds as confused as Seonghwa feels.

Curious, San glances over at the piece of white cloth for a moment, staring blankly. Then something in his dark eyes glint minutely, the side of his lip quirking up in amusement. Is it fate?

A thought forms and the cogs of his mind start turning, building upon that wisp of a thought until it turns into an idea, then a plan. Seonghwa catches sight of the little smirk on San’s face and frowns in confusion, opening his mouth to ask the younger boy exactly what he’s thinking. He’s a little afraid when San smiles like that. It usually means he’s up to no good.

“San, what is it?”

But San shrugs playfully, eyes shining with glee.

“Oh, it’s absolutely nothing, hyung.”

Seonghwa’s been searching for you for a week now.

For the first time, he actually attends school regularly even if it isn’t to go to class. Standing at the main gate at the crack of dawn, his eyes rake the faces of the students who walk into school every morning. All of them give him a wide berth, wearing the same terrified, yet befuddled expressions, similarly confused as why to the one of school’s bad boys would actually be in the school compound before the bell rings.

Regularly, at that.

About fifteen minutes before the bell rings, he hears the familiar thrum of an engine and raises his head to glance at the driveway outside. Just as he does, a sleek black Jaguar purrs into sight, coming to a stop. It’s presence still causes the same ripple of excitement and anticipation as it did three years ago, and Seonghwa can see all the students in the front yard of the school whispering behind their hands as they discuss the boy inside, wondering whether he’s going to abide by the school rules for once.

The driver, dressed impeccably as ever in a black, custom tailored suit and white gloves, crosses over to the passenger’s side and opens the door for the person inside with a deep bow.

“Young master.”

Kim Hongjoong, eldest son to the CEO of one of the most powerful business empires in Korea and probably the world, steps out with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes as if he’s still half asleep. Then he turns to the chauffeur, who Seonghwa recognises now as Hongjoong’s personal assistant and bodyguard, and gives him a nod.

“Thank you, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom falters momentarily, head rising a little as he looks at his master. “Young master, you know your father does not like it when you thank me… I am a mere household servant-”

“Who gives a damn what that old fart wants?” Hongjoong grabs his bag from the backseat, adjusting the silver beads and tags in his mullet. “I’ll see you later, Jae.”

The chauffeur can’t exactly argue with his employer, so he merely sighs a little and nods, bowing once more. “As you wish, young master.”

Seonghwa watches quietly as the car zips off down the street.

“Still here, Mars?” His best friend steps up next to him, bag casually slung over one shoulder as he quirks a brow, showing off the eyebrow slit at the side. Seonghwa lets his face relax into a small smile, adjusting the collar of his maroon turtleneck.

“Yeah.”

Hongjoong merely sighs in exasperation, waving his phone in hand. “You know, like I told you at the beginning of all this nonsense, I could have just given Jaebeom a ring and you would have your mystery girl’s identity in a folder on your lap within ten minutes. It would have included handphone number, siblings, hospital records and financial accounts and you wouldn’t be standing here like some lovesick goof every morning.”

Seonghwa doesn’t take any offense to his friend’s barbed words, knowing they stem from genuine concern for him. In fact, Hongjoong only uses his glib tongue and charisma when it comes to charming people into doing things that he wants. He’s not quite as skilled a manipulator as Wooyoung, who can puppet any person like a marionette on strings, but then again few are.

Seonghwa prefers it when Hongjoong takes on this tone with him. It’s more casual, more informal and Seonghwa doesn’t feel like he’s at risk of being played. When he speaks like that, he’s not the heir of the Kim Corporation, Kim Hongjoong, but instead he’s just Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.

“You know why I want to do this myself.” Seonghwa says softly and Hongjoong pauses a moment, because he does. He understands all too well just having everything presented to him on a silver platter with a golden spoon, not having to put in effort for any of it. Things lose their value that way, and he knows Seonghwa is determined not to let this happen.

Hongjoong merely sighs as he glances at the white handkerchief in Seonghwa’s hand.

“Well, I doubt anyone’s coming in now, it’s pretty late.” He tells Seonghwa, who nods and tucks the neatly folded cloth in his pocket. “Let’s get to class.”

San calls you at approximately five in the morning. On a Saturday morning, in fact.

Groaning as you roll over in your bed, you reach for your phone, the silver cat charms clicking against the screen as you put it to your ear. You’re thinking of a hundred and one ways to slowly butcher him and rip him into tiny little pieces when his cheerful voice comes over the phone. “Hey, my dear best friend, what are you doing up so early in the morning?”

A growl tears from your throat. “It’s 5:16 AM, Choi San. If you don’t have a good reason for waking me up at this time of the morning I’m coming over to your house, I’m going to rip out your throat and I’m going to steal Shiber from you.”

A horrified squeal comes over the phone. “Don’t steal Shiber!”

You almost sigh at how he completely missed out the ‘I’m going to tear your throat out’ bit, but you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation, sitting up on your bed as the blanket falls to your lap. “What is it, San? If you tell me now that you want to watch reruns of the Golden Girls at this time of the morning, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.”

“Oooh, kinky.” San whistles and you groan, smacking your head against the bedside table. Murder does really seem to be a tempting option now.

“Choi San I swear if you do not give me a good reason right now I’m going back to sleep-” You begin but then San cuts in more quickly than a swerving F1 racer.

“No no no, please don’t! Well, you see, one of the maids back at my house just told me that Yobu fell sick and needs to see a vet, but none of them are open at this time of the morning.”

Your jaw drops at the news, heart thundering in your chest. “I can’t believe you wasted all my time talking nonsense when Yobu was ill! What are we going to do, San?” You’re honestly worried for that sweet mannered ragdoll cat, fingers drumming anxiously against the table when San continues.

“But I have a friend knows about veterinary medicine since he works part time at a vet, so could you please bring Yobu to him? I’ve already told him that you’re coming.”

Something strikes you as odd and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “San… why can’t you just bring Yobu there yourself?”

“Ahh…” You hear your best friend falter a little over the phone and from the sheepish tone in his voice, he’s up to something again. You’re about to question him when you suddenly realise that there’s the thumping of the bass in the background, synthesizers screaming and the sound of drunken singing. Your heart falls.

“You’re in a club, aren’t you?”

San pauses uncomfortably. You’ve made it clear multiple times that you don’t approve of his partying lifestyle, but you’ve also told him that it’s his life and he needs to make choices for himself. “Yeah… “ His voice is soft over the phone, but then it tries to cheer you up a little. “I swear I didn’t even drink a lot! I’m not even drunk right now! I just came for a bit of booze and the atmosphere.”

At that, your smile softens a little. You know that San is desperately trying to change his ways, but it’s only the beginning, the first step of a long journey. “I know. Be back before sunrise, okay? Stay safe and don’t make me worry about you.”

You can hear San’s smile over the phone. “I promise. Now then, I’m leaving our child in your hands, alright?”

You’ve barely agreed when the call ends, the beeping of the phone all that’s left of your conversation.

You’re standing outside an apartment building at seven.

Yobu lets out a little mrrow from the basket under your arm and you stroke him on the head gently, checking the address on your phone. He looks perfectly fine to you, but then again you’re no doctor. Glancing at the block number and the unit, you’re indeed at San’s friend’s house. What friend, you have no idea, but you really need to get Yobu checked up as fast as possible.

Stepping up to the door, you press the bell once.

There’s an electronic warble and some shifting coming from behind the closed door. “Wait a moment, please-” You hear and you frown, the voice sounds male and vaguely familiar, as if you’ve heard it before. But before you can remember where, the door swings open to reveal the resident of the house.

You nearly drop Yobu in your shock.

You’re so going to murder San in his sleep.

Because it’s Park Seonghwa standing there, blonde hair mussed from sleep, dressed in a soft grey sweater and sweats, staring back at you with equally wide eyes. No leather jacket, no silver chains around his neck, simple black piercings in his ears. To your surprise, he looks soft as a kitten, not at all like that bad boy image you’re so used to seeing in school.

You glance down at his feet. He’s wearing freaking Gundam cartoon themed socks.

“Mrrow…” Yobu meows plaintively from his basket, as if demanding for the two of you to stop staring at each other and get a move on. That’s enough to jerk Seonghwa out of his shock and he opens the door a bit wider to let you in. “Uhh, please come in.”

You do as you’re told, slipping your shoes off at the door and stepping inside. The house is surprisingly bare, a pair of folded mattresses against against the wall and a lumpy couch in the corner. There’s a vet’s bag on the floor, stethoscope already laid out. You glance to the shelf at to your left as you set Yobu down on the ground, there’s a picture of a woman who you assume to be Seonghwa’s mother, and next to that is a collection of assembled Gundam models.

It seems as if someone is a fan.

You’re briefly afraid if something bad is going to happen to you when Park Seonghwa closes the door behind you, but as much as San enjoys playing pranks on you, he’s never one to put you in danger. Seonghwa sit down before you, cross legged, looking painfully awkward for the first time you’ve seen him.

“Umm… Hi…” He greets you softly and you stiffen to attention, Yobu curling in your arms and you hesitantly stroke the tiny cat gently. “So… Yobu is sick?”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. “You know Yobu?”

Seonghwa nods slowly. “Yeah well… I was the one who named him.” He holds out his hands for the grey ragdoll, looking at you hesitantly while you’re still staring at him in shock from this unexpected information. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip nervously, dragging across the black piercing there. “May I?’

You somehow regain enough cognitive function to place Yobu into his arms, the small feline nosing into Seonghwa’s chest and he lets out a gentle laugh, nuzzling the kitten with his nose. “Let’s see what’s wrong with you, little guy.”

Your mind is still reeling from all of… this. From what you know, Park Seonghwa is a mysterious bad boy who is a member of a terrifying group called ATEEZ that your best friend also happens to be part of. But even after knowing San for three years, he’s never really exposed you to any of his other friends, so you still steer clear of them whenever you see them in school.

But this Park Seonghwa before you is looking at the tiny kitten like it holds the moon and stars in its tiny paws, humming a soft tune under his breath as he reaches for his stethoscope. He’s nothing like the Park Seonghwa you’re familiar with, bruised fingers gentle as he checks over Yobu for any physical ailments, cooing to the cat in a sweet voice when it attempts to squirm out of his arms occasionally. You usually never say this… but you’re quite mindblown.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.” Seonghwa muses after a while, setting his tools down. You’re jerked out of your stunned stupor, letting out a witty ‘eh?’ as he puts Yobu down on the ground, the kitten batting at his sweater sleeve with its paws.

Seonghwa tugs his lip piercing between his teeth and for a second, you’re raising your eyes to heaven to ask exactly what you have done to deserve this punishment, but then he’s speaking once more. “I don’t see anything wrong with Yobu… He seems perfectly fine. Did San mention anything?”

You shake your head. “No, San just told me to bring Yobu over to you.”

“That’s odd…” Seonghwa frowns, fingers fiddling with the piercings on the shell of his ear before he lets out a sigh, rising to his feet. You keep your remark of ‘yeah, that sounds like San’ to yourself as you follow him with your eyes, watching as he steps over to the shelf, opening one of the drawers. “Anyway, I’m glad you came. I’ve been looking for you for a couple of weeks now.”

You pause, a little confused. Looking for you? What would the Park Seonghwa be searching for a person like you?

When he turns around, he’s holding your white handkerchief in his hands.

The two week old memory comes to the front of your mind and your mouth falls open. You remember walking to school, hearing someone sniffing quietly behind the school building, offering them a handkerchief… only for the person to be the one and only Park Seonghwa.

“Ahh…” Is all you manage to say, a little stunned as you accept the handkerchief back. It smells of clean cloth and soap that you don’t quite recognise, meaning that Seonghwa must have cleaned it for you. “You didn’t have to, but thank you anyway.”

Seonghwa shakes his head firmly as Yobu paws at the hem of his sweats, whining for attention. “No, I needed to. Thank you for lending it to me. I really appreciate it… could I repay you somehow? Maybe bring you out for a meal tomorrow?”

Your brain hits the brakes, all activity coming to a screeching halt as the words ‘meal’, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘repay’ bounce around your head like rubber balls. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to answer from the sound of your ringtone, although the second you hear it, you’re tempted to kill San right this second, and maybe yourself too, to save yourself the shame.

“You have a call! You have a call! Hey! Answer it! Don’t ignore me! Pleaseeee~” San’s voice comes from your pocket and you freeze in embarrassment, as Seonghwa stares at you in shock.

Your face turns red and you rush to answer the call, cheeks heating up in horrified mortification. Jabbing the little green icon with as much fury as you can muster, you hiss into the phone when the call comes through.

“What the hell did you do to my phone, San?”

“Hello! How’s my dear Yobu doing?” He sings, completely ignoring your furious question. You pause in your tracks, wheels turning in your mind as you put all the clues together. His too cheerful voice, the handkerchief, how he didn’t tell you Seonghwa was this veterinarian friend…

“Choi San.” Your voice is literally bubbling with mounting vexation and your rage must be clearly heard, because there’s a gulp over the phone. “Did you plan all of this?”

The line goes dead and you stare at your phone in shock.

Then you shriek in fury.

“I’m going to kill that slimy worm! That little bastard! Playing me like this!” Your fists are clenching around your phone, dearly wishing they were wringing San’s scrawny neck instead. You’re about to throw something when a warm hand settles on your shoulder and you whirl around in shock, suddenly remembering that Seonghwa is still in the room with you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks hesitantly, dark eyes wide and concerned and your rage dissipates into thin air, replaced by all too potent self-consciousness. He’d just seen you screaming your head off like a mad woman, for god’s sake.

“Yeah...I’m just going to have to kill that bastard the next time I see him.” You mumble under your breath, turning your phone to silent before savagely shoving it in your pocket. “Yobu is fine, San just played a massive prank on us.”

To your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t even react in the least, clearly expecting something like this after having known San for so long. He merely presses one hand to his face as he shakes his head in exasperation. “I knew something was up when he was smiling so much that day. That kid, honestly…”

“Sorry for the bother.” You apologise quickly, scooping up Yobu in your arms and placing him in his basket. The ragdoll lets out a soft meow, as if confused as to why you’re leaving so soon when you practically run for the door in shame. But right before you can leave, Seonghwa’s hand grasps your wrist lightly, pulling you back, and you make a soft ‘eep’ in surprise as you turn to face him.

He actually looks painfully nervous, teeth toying with the black piercing on his lower lip as his gaze moves around shiftily, his toes scrunching up under Robot Man’s face. “Well… will you… will you let me bring you for dinner tomorrow? To thank you?”

You freeze awkwardly, the tension between the two of you thick as sauna steam. After a long, awkward pause of silence, Seonghwa finally seems to realise he’s holding onto your wrist and drops it like you have the plague, scooting back several steps to a more respectful distance. His tongue swipes across his pink lips shyly as he musters up the courage to speak again. “Please? I mean, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to, I completely understand-”

You’re snapped out of your lip piercing induced shock when you finally realise that Seonghwa thinks that you’re reluctant to go with him. Not that you aren’t slightly… but maybe it’s time to give San’s friends a chance and get to know them. From what you’ve seen of Seonghwa, he doesn’t seem that bad to you anyway.

Awkwardly, you unlock your phone and pass it to him.

His eyes widen in surprise when he sees a blank contact open, the tiny line hovering at the ‘Name’ bar. Then a smile, one real and genuine, settles on his face as he enters his name and phone number, saving it before he passes it back to you.

“I’ll call you?” He asks as you slip on your shoes, balancing Yobu’s basket in one hand and your phone in the other. You nod in reply, a little breathless from his radiant smile.

“Yeah.”

From the basket, Yobu gives a smug mew of affirmation. His mission is complete.

[waywardnerd67]

My World, My Everything

Summary: She was everything to him. His entire world revolved around her, but a decision had to be made. He had a job to do and in making this decision he would save everything that meant the world to him. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 1899 Prompt: “All Our Own” -Radio Company (Lyrics are bold) A/N: This is for @atc74​ Collab Challenge Contest

His finger traced the worn edges of a small photo. The moment in which it was taken as fresh in his mind as if it had happened the day before. It was meant to be the most important day of his life and ended being one of the worst. Slipping the photo back into its spot held within his wallet taking one last, long look at it before closing it in place. Looking out over the dashboard of his car, Dean Winchester looked up into the darkening sky as the end came barreling his way.

October 29, 2005 - San Diego, California

Dean pulled into his normal parking spot at (Y/N)’s apartment building. It had been a few weeks since he last saw her. His case in New Orleans had taken a little longer than expected but now his plan was back on track. Before heading up to her place, he pulled out his phone hitting his dad’s number.

“Dad, when you get this call me. There’s something important I need to talk to about.”

Snapping the phone shut, he grabbed his bag and ran up the exterior stairs with his key in his hand. The door flew open just as he reached the top of the stairs. His eyes traveled the length of her curvy body marveling in her natural beauty. Her bright eyes matched the smile spreading across her face.

“Stop gawking and get your ass in here, Winchester.”

He jogged over and scooped her up holding her tightly, “I missed you pretty girl.”

Leaving (Y/N) had been the one of the hardest moments he had and finally pushed him to make a huge change in his life. Letting her go, Dean set his stuff near the door and kicked off his boots next to the black heels she must have worn to work that day. Seeing his stuff next to hers had his chest tightening with pure happiness.

Leaning against the counter he watched her cook as she told him all about her clients for the day. The only thought running through his mind was that this beautiful, successful business woman was all his. Instinctively he ran his hand over his right pocket of his jeans smiling softly as she continued to talk. Their dinner was simple and filled with laughter as Dean told her all about the voodoo case he had in New Orleans. The rest of their evening was filled with passionate love making and the most restful sleep Dean had in weeks.

Dean awoke to gentle kisses being pressed against his chest and shining eyes staring up at him. The corner of her lips curling into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at her. One look from her had him pouncing and their morning began as their night had ended.

“Did you think about what we last spoke of?” (Y/N) was snuggled into his side with her leg draped over his waist.

He brushed his calloused fingertips against her soft skin, “Listen to yesterday long before the way it has become and it all came down to you.”

“And…?”

“I don't really know the way, played out stranger than it seemed. But what went down came true like an all day dream.” He pushed himself up as she propped herself up on her elbow.

Her eyes searched his eyes for the unspoken words he was holding deep within him, “Dean, it doesn’t have to be a dream. You’re twenty-six now and can make your own decisions. Especially when it comes to having a stable life.”

He ran one hand through his hair, “I don't wanna be the one to say it's wrong. When the heavens open and a new day comes along. I know I would rather be together alone in a big top circle and a world we can call our own. It's all our own.”

“Does that mean…” the sheet fell from her body as she sat up hope shining in her eyes.

“In a world we can call our own we'll find shelter, darling. Where I'll always promise to never let be. I’m here to stay.”

(Y/N) launched herself onto him kissing him wherever she could get her lips on, “Handsome, that is all I want is you here all the time. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“Well, you can show me how happy you are.” Dean laughed as she playfully smacked him.

She got up heading towards her bathroom, “Maybe I will if you join me for a shower.”

Dean was about to follow her when he heard his phone beep with a new voicemail, “I’ll be right there.”

He watched her go in closing the door behind her. Looking at his phone his body tensed as the missed number was his dad’s. Quickly dialing his voicemail he listened to the strange message.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

There was EVP on the message which had panic tightening around his chest. He heard the shower turn on and his heart began to ache painfully. Pulling on his jeans his hand brushed against the small object that brought tears to his eyes. Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Dean grabbed his things then wrote out a note for (Y/N).

“I have to go. I love you, Dean.”

He shut the door as he heard (Y/N) called out to him. Running down the stairs and to his Baby, Dean took off like a bat out of hell. He knew the path all too well down to Palo Alto where his little brother, Sam, was going to college. It had been years since they last spoke but Dean always made a point to go find him from afar. Now, he needed his help in order to find their dad.

Present Day

Dean stood in front of his car alone facing the greatest threat the world had ever seen. Sam was back at the Bunker trying to figure out another way to save the world, but Dean knew it was pointless. This was his burden to bare. This was his destiny. Dying to save the world and his life was worth losing knowing that he was saving the world (Y/N) was living in. As he watched the dark clouds split open and a figure in a white suit emerging from them. Dean closed his eyes, the vision of (Y/N) clearly in his mind before opening them and heading straight for Chuck.

                                                          ***

(Y/N) was wrapped in her favorite blanket when the doorbell rang. A tall man, with long chestnut hair stood there. His eyes were bloodshot and tired looking. He was holding a small shoebox in his hands.

“May I help you?”

“Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying.

She nodded, “Yes I am.”

The man took a deep breath, “My name is Sam Winchester…”

Hearing the surname made her gasp, “You’re Dean’s little brother. W-Where is Dean?”

His hazel eyes connected with hers with tears in them, “D-Dean wanted you to have this when he… when he passed.”

(Y/N) stared at the box shaking her head, “No. N-No… he can’t be. Tell me, he’s around the corner or on his way. Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone!”

Sam held the box out to her, “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t. He sacrificed his life in order to save the world. He defeated God and defended all the people of this world. The only thing he made me promise to do is deliver this box to you.”

As she took a hold of the flimsy shoebox a blood curdling sob erupted from deep within her chest and her body gave out as she fell into Sam’s outstretched arms. He helped her inside to her couch as she let out all of her anguish knowing the world no longer had Dean Winchester in it. Sam sat with her until there were no more tears left for her to give.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He rubbed her back, wiping away his own tears, “No need to apologize. Would you mind if I stay while you open the box? I’ve been watching him carry this around since he came to get me from college. I’m curious what’s inside.”

She nodded her trembling hands taking the lid off. There were all kinds of trinkets from all his travels. A worn copy of her favorite book, Little Women, with his hand written notes. A small photo album with pictures of him throughout the years he was away from her. Seeing his piercing olive eyes and handsome face brought fresh tears down her cheeks. Then there was a small square box and an envelope. Within the box was a simple diamond ring, a soft gasp coming from her.

“Pretty girl, I know you probably hate me and you should. I had to leave. Not because of my dad or the job. I had to leave to keep you safe. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you being alive, safe, healthy. Even though the thought of you being with someone else tears my heart apart, I hope you found someone who loves you as much as I do. I want you to live a full and happy life.

If you’re reading this then Sam has kept his promise. I’m gone but the world is safe. Don’t be sad that I’m gone. There was no choice in the matter and no other way. I had to save the world in order to save you and that meant my death. (Y/N), I love you. You are my world, my everything. I wanted to give you this ring the morning I left. I kept hoping one day I might be lucky enough to give you this in person. Now, I want you to have it to remember that you were the only woman for me. I love you so much. Live a long, beautiful life. -Dean”

(Y/N) took the ring, slipping it onto her finger, more tears falling down her face, “Damn it Winchester, even in death you’re a charming son of a bitch.”

Sam started laughing and (Y/N) found herself joining him. They began telling stories about Dean to one another until the early hours of the morning. Exchanging phone numbers with promises to keep in touch, (Y/N) watched Sam drive away in the all too familiar black Impala. She looked up to the sky, a cool breeze whipping past her.

“Dean Winchester, if you can hear me then you get your ass back down here to me.” She closed her eyes praying that he would be in front of her when they opened.

                                                          ***

A thousand miles away, the Earth split open shaking the ground violently. A large hand grasped the edge of the opening pulling themselves up onto the dirt. Coughing and dry heaving until collapsing onto the ground. Catching their breath and getting up they made their way down the nearest road. Nearly an hour later, they entered a small gas station asking to use the phone.

“This is Sam.” The familiar voice brought a wave of emotions over them.

“Sammy, it’s me. I-I’m back.”

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[chasing-classics]

About Time- Steve Rogers x Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, sadness

Summary: You and Steve were each other’s lifelines, ever since you first met all those years ago during the battle in New York and you were recruited onto the Avengers. You showed him love was still possible after Peggy. However, things drastically change when you are on opposite sides during Civil War. After the fallout you are reunited for the Battle of Wakanda during Infinity War only for the tragedy of Endgame to follow closely after. Inspired by Myra Granberg’s ‘’Bitter Heart.’’

 Suddenly you look like a stranger

A face I knew, but I must've forgotten

Emotional flicker, you were my everything

 ‘’Steve put me down,’’ you squealed, laughing as your boyfriend of nearly three years tossed you over his burly shoulder. It was extremely rare that the two of you could be like this, carefree and teasing. You were currently in your shared apartment, the typical fight for the television remote quickly escalating into a  full-blown tickle fight.

 ‘’Not a chance, doll. You accused me of sitting on the remote, now you’re gonna pay,’’ his deep laugh was something you could never tire of. That laugh was reserved only for the people who were closest to him, and you were at the top of that list. You two met when Natasha recruited you a little over three years ago, given your history as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and your ‘’gift’’ in telekinesis. You and the super soldier were instantly drawn to each other, like your souls were previously intertwined and in sync with one another. Loving Steve came easily, it was like second nature.

 ‘’Steve what are you- NO! Nooo,’’ you shrieked as he dumped you in the bathtub that was filled with cold water. Your clothes stuck to your skin as your laugh ricocheted off the walls of the bathroom. Steve just grinned down at you, shaking off his jacket as he got in with you, clothes and all. This was the little moments you both lived for. Saving the world from corrupt gods and villainous robots was rewarding, but it was the simple moments you learned to appreciate most. You smiled up at him softly, grinning when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

 ‘’I love you.’’

 You swam so deep into my river

Your footsteps lead everywhere I go

I never was a weeper

But I'm still holding on

  ‘’Because I’ve been competing with a ghost for the past three years!’’

 The flash of hurt across Steve’s face nearly made you back down, but the damage was already done.

 ‘’Face it, Steve. I’ll never be enough for you. If there a time machine that could take you back to her, you’d jump in it in a heartbeat,’’ the salty tears streamed down your face, washing away the dust and debris from the skirmish just moments ago. ‘’I’ll never be her,’’ your voice was quiet and defeated, cracking at the end. His silence spoke volumes as he just looked down at you, those baby blue eyes you loved to get lost in were shiny with unshed tears.

 ‘’Steve,’’ Bucky whispered, his gaze alternating between the two of you and the quickly approaching King of Wakanda alongside Nat.

 Steve opened his mouth to speak, choking on the things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to do so. You shook your head, still clutching the gash on your side that Bucky had unintentionally given you. Your gaze remained firm on Steve as you nodded towards Bucky, ‘’go.’’ For a split second you thought he would stay. That he’d hold you in his big, strong arms and tell you that you were going to get through this, that he’d never leave his best girl behind. That he’d tell you he loved you and you’d figure this out as a team despite your conflicting views. That belief died the second he ran into the jet, taking Bucky with him and leaving you behind. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were even holding. Your breathing became labored, the tears falling uncontrollably as you let out the most devastating, ear-piercing shriek, collapsing to your knees as the ground beneath you collapsed into a crater. You barely felt Nat wrap her arms around your shoulders as you sunk into the emptiness.

 From the jet, Steve choked on his own sobs, leaving a decently sized dent in the floor of the aircraft as he struggled to process what just unfolded. He let out a yell of frustration and despair as he tried his best to restrain himself from tearing the jet apart. He lost you. You begged him to stay, to work it out. And he had just left you behind. He left you believing you meant nothing to him, that you’d always be second-best when it came to Peggy. He left without tell you he loved you. He sucked in a shaky breath, feeling Bucky’s hand on his shoulder to offer the slightest bit of comfort as he drifted further and further away from you, leaving a large piece of him behind at that airport.

 We know we could've done it better

Fought for the little things that we wanted

I know we were so good together

It's too hard to let go

 The years following Steve going MIA were not kind to you, but you managed to adjust to not having him in your life. You didn’t consider this living; this was merely not dying. You left your superhero days behind you as the team broke up, opting for the frequent check-in from Nat and Tony from time-to-time. You moved out of your apartment that you had shared with Steve, relocating to Tony’s summer cabin. It wasn’t until you received an urgent call from Natasha saying that she needed you in Edinburgh asap. She mentioned something about Wanda and Vision needing to be brought back home. Had it been anyone else you would’ve politely declined, but she had always been like a sister to you and the one constant in your life. She had been the one to pull you out of your depression and pushed you to keep moving forward.

 ‘’I’ll be there by tonight,’’ you sighed, already pulling out your suit from the ‘’glory days.’’

 By the time you exited the jet, you had very little time to wrap your head around the situation. One minute you were going over frantic missed calls from Pepper, the next you saw news reports that stated Earth was under attack and Tony was missing. And now you were currently face-to-face with a ghost.

 ‘’Hi, doll,’’ Steve offered a small, sad smile.

 You stood there like a deer in the headlights, anger bubbling inside of you despite the tears coating your lower lashes. ‘’You have some nerve, Rogers,’’ you scoffed, approaching him from the other side of the now vacant train station. You hated how good he looked. You hated that he took your advice on growing out his facial hair after the two of you split up. You hated that he left you and still had the nerve to act as if he didn’t rip your heart out years ago. You absolutely hated that you were still in love with him.

 ‘’I can’t believe you right now. You have no idea what you put me through. The kind of pain you put me through. And now you’re standing here with those big stupid baby blue eyes thinking I’m-,’’ you were silenced when he encompassed your face with his strong hands, his lips crashing against you in a kiss that sent you into a whirlwind of nostalgia. After a moment of hesitation, you slowly rested your hands on his cheeks and kissed back, the world literally fading away. He slowly pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours.

 ‘’You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.’’

   Oh, I wish that you hadn't pulled the trigger

Shot me down with my bitter heart

My blood is getting thicker

Oh, you shot me down, you shot me down

  ‘’S-Steve?’’ the air left your lungs when your e/c met his. You staggered to your knees, your lungs suddenly feeling like they were on fire. You could vaguely see Steve sprint towards you, his hands still coated in the ashes Bucky left behind just seconds ago. He held you in his arms, just like he used to and you curled into his embrace, hands gripping his biceps. Tears rolled down your cheeks, whether they were yours’ or his you could no longer tell.

 ‘’No, no. Oh God, no,’’ he cried out, holding you to his chest as his sobs racked through his body.

 ‘’I-I’m s-so sorry,’’ you whimpered.

 ‘’You’re going to be fine, baby. Please just hold on,’’ he shook, eyes purposefully not looking at the way your legs were fading into ash. You offered one last smile to him, lifting your hand to caress the side of his face one last time.

 ‘’I love. . .’’

 Steve’s arms fell into his lap and the cries that erupted from him were sounds that no human-being thought possible.

 Oh baby, look at me just one more time

Tell me that you don't regret it

I really thought we were fine

Then you shot me down

 Steve looked down at his broken shield, every inch of his body was screaming in pain, for him to give up. But as he looked into the mad Titan’s eyes he was filled with undying resolve, his only thought being of you. If it hadn’t worked, if this had all been for nothing then at the very least he was going to die with thoughts of you surrounding him.

 ‘’Cap. On your left.’’

 He felt you before he saw you, your presence giving off waves of warmth and comfort that he hadn’t experienced since the snap. Once he turned around, all he saw was you. You beamed at him, both of your resisting the urge to run to each other as you calmly took your place beside him along with Bucky and Sam. You both turned your attention to Thanos and his army, getting ready for the fight of your lives.

 ‘’If we live through this,’’ he began as he gripped Mjolnir , you raising your eyebrow in question. ‘’Will you marry me?’’

 Oh baby, look at me just one more time

Tell me that you don't regret it

 You watched with glossy eyes as Pepper held her daughter, slowly making her way to the lake. There was not a single dry eye amongst you mourners. You shakily exhaled as the service continued, memories of Nat and Tony orbiting your mind. You felt Steve wrap his arm around you, filling you with some comfort despite the immense pain. You leaned into his embrace, a sad smile on both of your faces as you mourned the loss of your family. The water on the lake shining as the sun peeked behind the clouds, a profound promise of what was to come.

 After the service you stood by Bucky and Sam as Steve was given the instructions on how to place the infinity stones back in their designated locations. You felt uneasy, wondering if Steve would leave you a second time. He had his chance, his one chance to get his happily ever after with his first love. Nonetheless, you offered an encouraging smile, despite the feeling that this was going to be the final time you’d see your Steve. You nodded slowly, your own little way of saying it’s ok. It wasn’t until after he vanished that you released your gasp, your heart heavy in your chest. ‘I knew it,’ you ruefully thought to yourself, turning away and wondering how you’d manage to survive his absence this time without Tony and Nat there to be your anchor.

 ‘’Y/n,’’ Bucky whispered, his eyes looking past you. Your brows furrowed as you turned around, eyes widening at the sight of Steve on one knee, holding a diamond ring.

 ‘’Steve what are-,’’

 ‘’It’s my mom’s ring. I had to get it. I wasn’t going to do this if I couldn’t do it right. You told me a long time ago that if I had the chance to get in a time machine, I’d choose differently. Well, I’m showing you that in a billion lifetimes, in a billion different situations, I’d always find a way to you and I’d always choose you. And I’ll keep choosing you for the rest of our lives. I love you, doll. And after everything we’ve been through, it’s time we get our happy ever after. So, y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?’’

 ‘’I-It’s about time, Captain,’’ you joked through your tears of absolute happiness, kneeling to the ground and tackling him in your embrace. The two of you laughing, the very same laugh that he had made all those years ago in your apartment before he through you in the tub, the same laugh that was still to the day only reserved for you. The one that would always be meant for you, Mrs. y/n Rogers.

[misc-headcanons]

Can I have a scenario for Law saving a girl who is wanted dead from the marine/world government. Law fallen in love with her at first site. Her injuries are really bad that Law and his crew are surprised she's even alive. She acts like Law, but she slowly starts to show some emotions towards Law. Law wants to earn her trust and to know more about her and how she got all of those scars. Law makes a move on her but she backs away (unsure) but she moves towards Law. Rough Dirty NSFW please.

(I decided to split this up into two parts, one containing the setup and the second part featuring the actual NSFW. So no smut in this one, but it’s coming! ;3)

Word count: 1354

Law had confidence in his abilities as a doctor, but when Bepo had pulled this woman from the water...he knew the chances of her surviving her injuries were slim. When the crew had stumbled across the ruins of her ship, she had been pinned to a large piece of floating wreckage by an iron beam that had pierced through her arm. The Heart Pirates had immediately rushed her to the operating room, and Law got to work trying to assess and tend to her injuries. Alright: remove the pole from her bicep and keep her from bleeding out, then remove the shrapnel in her left leg and right thigh, then focus on the large burn on the back of her left thigh...

It had taken six straight hours of work to get her into a stable condition. Shachi and Penguin had insisted they work in shifts so that their captain to rest, but Law had refused. When she was breathing steadily and he knew he'd done all he could, he tossed his gloves into a medical wastebin, washed the blood off of his hands, and collapsed into a nearby chair next to her cot. Bepo went to the kitchen to give him a bottle of water, and Law kept an eye on his sleeping patient. 

Her chest rose and fell, and her lips were slightly parted as she slept. Her hair was fanned out behind her, and every once in a while, she would quietly mumble something in her sleep. Law was used to seeing patients at their worst, but she didn't look that terrible despite everything she'd been through. Some of her features were rather unusual though: her fingernails were long and unnaturally pointed, and when she'd she'd first spoken in her sleep, Law had noticed that her canines were sharper than the average human. When Bepo had turned her over to check for other injuries, her back had been covered in multiple scars that looked years old. Law found himself staring at the bruises and cuts that littered her body, and the bits of dried blood under her fingernails.  She frowned in her sleep, and something about the way her lips pursed together made Law's breath hitch. She looked surprisingly graceful--a word he'd never associate with the people he'd treated on the Polar Tang. Hell, she almost looked...beautiful.

Law clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away from her. Where the hell did that come from? He always had a level of detachment when he was operating on someone. He'd never in a million years think about someone he'd treated...well, like that. Hell, he didn't even know this woman!

His eyes slowly drifted back to her. Something about her left him feeling almost lightheaded and airy when he looked at her. He sighed and rubbed the bags under his eyes before letting out an exhausted yawn--maybe these feelings were caused by sleep deprivation. Yeah, that was probably it. Law wasn't the kind of man to believe in love at first sight, after all. He leaned back in his chair and let himself fall asleep. When he woke up, he would feel normal again and he could check on her progress after a few hours of rest.

He entered a dreamless sleep and when his eyes opened again, he saw a few rays of sunlight peeking through a window in the hallway outside the operating room. He blinked sleepily and turned his head to check on the mysterious woman. She was still sleeping, and she was still beautiful. Law's gaze was soft, and he got up to set up an IV to give her nutrients in case she wouldn't be able to eat.

The sound of his feet shuffling on the metal floor caused her to stir, and her eyes slowly opened. Law froze and saw her look up at him, her eyes glazed over with exhaustion and confusion. She shifted up to sit in her cot, wincing as she moved her injured limbs. "Where...Where am I?" Her voice was groggy, and the raspy tinge to it sent a shiver up Law's spine.

"My ship," he replied, his voice gentler than usual. "We found you pinned to some wreckage and treated your injuries. It'll take a while to fully recover, but you're safe, for the time being." 

The women's eyes narrowed. "And what," she said suspiciously, "You rescued me because I was a damsel in distress?" She smiled mirthlessly. "Good samaritans don't make very successful pirates, you know." 

Whoever this woman was, she definitely wasn't naive. Not that he minded, he appreciated people who had a healthy level of cynicism. "Do you think I would've made it this far into the New World if I was a bleeding heart? I could've let you bleed out and become food for the Sea Kings, but I thought I could get some information about who attacked you." His gaze hardened a bit. "There are plenty of pirate crews in these waters that I don't know about. Any bit of insight I get can give me an edge."

The woman shrugged and winced at how her shoulders ached. "Well, it wasn't any crew that attacked me," she replied. "It was a Marine ship." She scowled and curled her lip. "Those government lapdogs have been following me ever since I was a child."

"If they're that desperate to kill you, you must be powerful," Law remarked. "That, or an especially sharp thorn in their side." 

"Both, actually," she replied coolly. "They hate prophecies, especially about 'a witch born with a hunger for the flesh of the Men Draped in White.' " Law raised an eyebrow at her morbid words and she chuckled softly, revealing a small set of fangs. "Don't worry, it's just a figure of speech. I wouldn't ever eat something as filthy as a Marine." She subtly looked up and down Law's body, trying to get a proper look at her rescuer. 

Law felt a bit of heat rush to his face, but he managed to keep his cool. "Since you have such a large target on your back--and you've already come close to dying once--I have a proposition for you." 

She raised an eyebrow.

"I'll give you shelter on my ship, and once you've fully recovered from your injuries, you can repay me by joining the crew."

The woman crossed her arms. "I'm not someone who enjoys being tied down," she said bluntly. "Alliances, friendships...It rarely ends well. Why would I want to spend the rest of my life in the crew of a man I just met?"

Law shrugged. "It doesn't have to be a lifelong pact or anything," he replied. "Think of it as a mercenary contract; in exchange for room, board, and medical attention, you'll fight alongside the crew for a reasonable length of time that we can negotiate on." 

The woman considered his offer for a few moments. She wasn't fond of being stuck on someone's crew, but she had to appreciate his practicality. It was refreshing to be around someone who was as sensible as she was, not easily swayed by pesky emotional impulses. Maybe this wouldn't be totally unbearable…

"Alright," she said finally, giving Law a small nod and holding out one of her bruised arms to shake his hand. "We can go over the details later, preferably after I've gotten some more rest. Is that acceptable, Captain…" She trailed off, expecting him to finally give her his name.

"Law," he replied, clasping her hand and shaking it. Her skin was soft, albeit a bit bruised in some spots. "Trafalgar Law."

"Law," she repeated. "Just out of curiosity, do you have an epithet as well?"

He nodded. "The Surgeon of Death," he said with a low rumble. Her voice already intrigued him, but hearing her say his name was almost intoxicating.

"Ah," she said with a smirk, "We should get along just fine, then." She tilted her head and lightly brushed one of her claw-like nails against Law's wrist as she held his hand. "I'm ____ ____, otherwise known as...the Mistress of Death."

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Another Variable

You don’t think he’s much of a demon as he is a worm since he seems to have quite the talent in worming his way into your life. Now that he’s passed the Spice Girls’ code of conduct, you should’ve known that it’s only fair that you would do the same. Only, you weren’t ready for it.

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: slice of life, slow-burn, fluff, comedy. supernatural

warnings: strong language, memes, and pop culture references that need to be taken away from me.

word count: 8.7k

Straight continuation from Distance and the Heart

Related Works: see Masterlist

A/N: ohhh boyyy ummm not much to say other than this just keeps getting longer and that I don’t if I’m doing it well :DD

You’re caught like a deer in the headlights; your mind blanking because your brain cells have called for a state of emergency in the form of running around like headless chickens in a panic.

 All two of them.

 Jaehee continues to openly gawk at your guardian demon that looks too much like a world-renowned Korean celebrity to be a coincidence, at least to her untrained eyes. You’re struggling to come up with a plausible excuse for it, your own eyes flitting nervously to Jimin in a silent plea for help but he seems way too amused at the situation; more than he should be considering he’s the one who’s the cause of it. In fact, he knows he’s made an oopsie but seeing you struggling like this makes it worth it. You see your window of opportunity closing, literally see it slipping as the longer neither of you say anything, the more Jaehee’s eyes begin to widen, mouth slowly forming into an ‘O’ of realization like she’s just on the cusp of pinpointing exactly where she’s seen him from.

 God this is it…this is how it all ends.

 But as if sensing your despair (or maybe taking pity on you), your guardian demon finally makes a move. With a deliberate tilt of his head, he flashes her a million dollar smile with charm levels reaching over 9000 and as smooth as a cucumber says, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

 You see the sentence put Jaehee’s thoughts to a halt for a moment, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. The gears are turning in her head and you watch on, feeling a sweat beginning to break out but as you sneak a glance at Jimin, he’s still unbothered like he’s got this one in the bag. Jaehee brings herself back again, eyes focusing in on Jimin and with determination she rebuttals with, “No, I swear I’ve seen you from somewhere…like…on TV or the internet or something…”

 She trails off in thought, her piercing gaze drifting off for a bit as if the files of her memories were floating above her head, her mind sifting through them. Jimin remains silent, completely relaxed as he waits patiently for Jaehee to arrive to some other conclusion. You, on the other hand, have short-circuited into becoming a statue, muscles stiff and on edge because it feels as if you’re trying to prevent a bomb from detonating by tiptoeing around it (i.e. being useless). Perhaps it’s too late to make that analogy now because before you know it, you see Jaehee’s figurative light bulb go off on her head and the next words she exclaims a little too loudly.

 “I remember now! You look like one of the Korean boy group member that Y/N follows! BTS right?!” Her excited eyes dart towards you as if to confirm but all you manage is a croaky sound akin to a dying cat. Jaehee powers on regardless like she’s on a roll.

 “Gosh I don’t remember his name but I swear you look just like him! Um…” She’s snapping her fingers, trying to jog her memory some more, muttering to herself. “It starts with a ‘J’ like…Jay, Jo…Ugh! He’s your favourite too right?”

 At the moment, you wished he wasn’t.

 Jaehee continues to list off variations of ‘J’ names off the top of her head until they start to sound more like something resembling Jimin’s name. “Jumin! Or is it Jimin? Is it either one of them?”

 You’re horrified but also impressed with Jaehee, being that despite blabbering to her about BTS whenever she catches you in those moments, you had an inkling that she was only half-listening to you because she wasn’t very interested in them so for her to remember a specific member and placing a name? You’re a little touched. But of all times…. why now?

 Jimin doesn’t say anything, and the silence makes the beating of your heart seem all the more deafening to you. He blinks once, then twice, before a slow smile makes its way across his lips.

 “Ahh….” He lets out as if he only just realized that he looks like an A-List celebrity. You hate him so much right now but he’s doing a hell of a good job at deflecting Jaehee’s suspicions. “I know who you’re talking about now! Yeah, I get told I look like him a lot…like, all the time.”

 Jaehee’s eyes light up with delight at being right as she excitedly proclaims, “I bet you do! Oh my God, have you ever got asked to do those celebrities look-alike gigs? Like TV shows or cameos in movies?”

 Jimin lets out a good-natured laugh, a melodious sound with the light tossing of his head that gives both you and Jaehee a clear view of his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously. You belatedly realize that you’re caught in the line of fire that is Jimin’s demonic charm working its magic to sway Jaehee, the air around shimmering with a smog you feel rather than see. You have to snap out of it; you have to drag yourself out of those crescent shaped eye smiles if you want to make it out of this alive. But it’s just so hard…. Damn it! With great effort however, you tear your eyes away from him, blinking hard to focus in on Jaehee, watching with slight pity at her being reeled into this web of lies.

 “Just once or twice, but I have a feeling it might be more often now since BTS is becoming a big thing huh?” And as if to add a finishing blow, he sweeps a hand through his luscious hair with just the right amount of bashfulness that would have anyone, man or woman, swooning. So it’s no surprise that you see that Jaehee’s a goner; wrapped up nicely around your demon guardian’s fingers.

 “Yeah….” Jaehee sighs, sounding suspiciously dreamy but all you do is look on in mild amusement and disbelief, managing a stiff smile in your poor attempts to go along with the act. There’s a moment of silence (for Jaehee’s sanity) and it’s then that you finally gather up the nerves to intervene, sensing that your crisis has been averted. You clear your throat as casually as you can which seems to do the trick in snapping Jaehee out of her daze a bit. She finally draws her eyes away from Jimin who you know is super pleased with himself without having to look at him.

 “Y-Yeah! So Jaehee, um, I guess I should officially introduce you to Ji—Jumin! He’s uh…the one who saved me that…. one time.”

 “Or you can call me Julien, my unofficial English name.” Jimin pipes up from beside you, grinning boyishly as you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. Jaehee beams back, eyes going wide again at the new information and you nearly laugh at the way she has to hold herself back from bursting but sort of fails anyways.

 “Oh my God! You’re him?! I— Oh wow! Um, I’m Jaehee! Y/N’s roommate and best friend!” She shoots you a not-so-subtle look that clearly screams, ‘GIRL WHAT THE HELL! YOU NEED TO SPILL THIS TEA TO ME ASAP!’ You only offer back a wry smile.

 “Nice to finally meet you, Jaehee. I heard a lot about you.” Jimin replies back smoothly, offering his hand to which Jaehee shakes with much enthusiasm. The smile on her face is so wide you think her cheeks would split from the force but as she lets go, her eyes catches sight of one small detail all of you seem to have forgotten.

 “OH MY GOD IS THAT MIKE?!”  

 You nearly jump at her sudden outburst, glancing down to see that indeed, Mike is still lying on the ground, KO’ed with a bloody nose. A nervous laugh escapes you before you can stop it but Jimin, ever the smooth operator, steps in again with his Oscar winning performance.

 “Oh! Yeah, I was just in the neighbourhood visiting a friend when I thought I saw Y/N from across the street with this guy. He looks like he was giving her trouble so I stepped in and he got a little…. violent. I mean, I think he had too much to drink but I had no other choice.” He almost sounded apologetic as he rubs the back of his neck, even throws in a sheepish smile. That little shit. Jaehee eats it up of course, her face morphing into one of frantic reassurance.

 “No, no, no! No I was just on the phone with Y/N and Mike sounded like he was being a douche. Really, I’m so glad at least you were there to step in before it got bad. Thank you Jumin er— would you rather prefer Julien?”

 “Either one is fine.”

 She nods with a smile. “Thank you Julien, I really appreciate it. But we still gotta take him home…. I guess.”

 “Oh no, no I’ll take care of him; it’s my fault really. You two should head home since it’s getting late.”

 At the proclamation, your eyes dart to Jimin alarmed because who knows what ‘take care of him’ actually means with him. He seems to pick up on what you’re thinking because all he does is give you a secretive smirk that tells nothing of his true intentions. It further worries you.

 “Are you sure Julien? You don’t have to, like you barely know him. We can just call someone to pick him up with an Uber and he’ll be fine; you don’t have to trouble yourself!”

 As much as Jaehee insists however, Jimin waves it all off with a hand and a deceptively angelic smile on his face, lightly pushing you more towards Jaehee in an attempts to send you off on your way quicker. You resist a little because you still don’t trust him being alone with a person whom he very much would want to kill and then tell you it was an ‘accident’ after.

 “I’m sure Jaehee, don’t worry! I’ll text Y/N to keep you updated and for sure, if I need your help, I’ll holler okay?”

 Jaehee’s hesitancy finally gives way, no doubt from that blinding smile Jimin is giving, and she finally concedes albeit reluctantly, grabbing your arm and tugging you to her side. You stumble, mouth opening and closing like a fish because you don’t want to leave Jimin unsupervised but you also don’t want to have to clean up this mess that is Mike either.

 “Okay…if you’re absolutely sure….” She says, dragging the end syllable as a last ditch effort to get Jimin to change his mind. However, the demon holds fast with a confident nod, shifting so that it looks like he’s just about to pick up the still unconscious man on the ground.

 “Positive. You two get home safe okay? Text me Y/N when you’ve arrived.” He says cheerily, scooping up Mike by the arm and more or less, swings him up like a sack of potatoes with no consideration to his injuries. Jaehee, with rose coloured glasses, gives one final nod and wave, bidding Jimin farewell and ultimately drags you away from the scene of the crime. You shoot one more glare Jimin’s way over your shoulder only to scowl when he just smiles, eyes crinkled and waves at you cutely until you’re too far to read his face.

 Not like you can dwell on it for long either because Jaehee’s on you, like she’s snapped herself out of most of the haze the spell had on her to jerk you forward, effectively gaining your attention and tearing your eyes away from the last of Jimin’s figure.

 “Oh. My. GOD! Y/N! Y/N you bitch! Why didn’t you tell me that that was the guy that saved you and you were talking to on and off to the point I thought you totally had a thing going on!” She exclaims, shaking you a bit in her anger but just when you’re about to get on the defensive, her next words immediately dispel any negative feelings bubbling inside of you. “I tried to set you up with someone like Mike for crying out loud! And you had someone like Julien all this time?! Girl what were you thinking?! What was I thinking?!”

 You can only let out a huff of laughter, bemused by the whole turn of events as Jaehee continues her zealous, one-sided interrogation on you, asking questions like where did you meet him? How did you meet him? Were there always good-looking guys like that in the city? Tell me your ways! But never really giving you the time or breathing space to answer back. You make it back home in no time though, sending Jaehee off with some satisfactory half-truths. By the time you make it into your room, you’re absolutely drained, mentally and physically. So much so that you had to take the time to lean against your closed door to just shut your eyes and exhale deeply.

 But you can’t go to sleep yet. No, not without knowing if your guardian demon with the tendency for murder is behaving himself. So you see to it that you have no choice but to sit awake, on your bed, like you’re a parent waiting to catch their teenager who snuck out for the night red handed. After washing up, you settle to sit in your bed for what you dread to be a long night. Only you didn’t quite foresee one (admittedly, crucial) thing; you were so tired.

 It felt like you had just closed your eyes for five seconds but the next time you open them, sunlight was leaking through your blinds. Needless to say, you trip out for a hot second because what the fuck.

 “Good morning sunshine.”

 You jerk in surprise like you’ve been electrocuted and you let out a whining curse from being startled so suddenly (you barely have your eyes open for crying out loud!) Through your sheets and flyaway hairs, you manage to spot the unmistakable figure of your would-be rebellious teen, sitting in your desk chair like a preening cat.

 “Where’ve you been last night!?” You hiss, accidentally putting too much emphasis on the first word before catching yourself from raising your voice any further. You don’t need Jaehee to wake up to this; it’s one thing for her to know of Jimin’s existence now but it’s another having to explain how he managed to break into your room and quite frankly, you’re not in the mood to risk another improv moment with Jimin as the lead actor. Your aforementioned guardian demon does nothing but run a hand through his hair, the locks parting like waves over his forehead before gently falling back perfectly to frame his face. He’s changed out of his outfit from last night, opting for another one of his dark silken shirts that drape loosely on his frame, offering a tantalizing view of his collarbones with his staple black slacks.

 It almost distracts you from your interrogation. Almost.

 “Why, I was here the entire time cherub. Like the dutiful guardian I am.” He answers you airily, eyes fluttering with feigned innocence. You shoot him a glare, suspicion rolling off you in a way you’re sure he feels it too but you don’t retort back because…. you can’t; you fell asleep before confirming it so this makes it ten times more infuriating because Jimin knows it too if the way he’s biting into his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing is anything to go by. You breathe in deeply, clearing your throat as you prepare to change tactics.

 “Well, the last time I saw you, you so graciously volunteered to take care of my…” You stop yourself, struggling to find the appropriate word. Ugh, what do you even call Mike after that incident now? You think even ‘acquaintance’ is a little too generous. Either way, you make a mental note to delete him from your contacts list as soon as you figure out whether or not your guardian demon has deleted him in a more… permanent way.

 A snort draws you from your musings and your gaze focuses back in on Jimin who has a hand up to his mouth to hide the grin on his face (his crinkled eyes gives him away though). You raise a brow at him, lost at what exactly he finds so funny.

 “Sorry, the look of absolute disgust on your face is unbecoming of you.”

 At that, your face scrunches up even more unattractively. “After that disaster, I think I’ve earned my right to be absolutely disgusted; I think a date with a garbage can would’ve gone smoother than whatever…that was.”

 That pulls a peal of laughter from him, head tossing back as his shoulders shake and the sight of it all makes you have to hide your own growing smile (right before you realize that you should probably keep it down or else you’d be found out, so you throw a leg out in Jimin’s direction with a half-warning ‘Jimin! Shush!’ to get him to reel himself back in).

 “To answer your previous statement,” Jimin starts after composing himself, “I took care of him alright….”

 “Jimin….” You groan out, not liking the very dark tone he’s taken on with the confession but really, honestly speaking? You don’t really care as long as Mike’s not dead. “What did you do?”

 “Oh nothing special; got him home, tucked him into bed, read him a bedtime story, set his dorm on fire….” He lists off casually, even takes the time to examine his cuticles.

 You on the other hand, start spluttering, managing to just choke out a strained, “What—!” before continuing on like he’s spilled lipstick in your Valentino white bag (which you sadly don’t own).

 “Okay, fine; I set him on fire.”

 That does not make it any better!                          

 Your horrified speechlessness sets another bout of uncontrollable giggles from Jimin who’s beside himself. As he struggles to not fall from his seat, you’re trying desperately to figure out if he’s being serious or he’s just messing with you. The worst thing is you can’t tell.

 “Jimin!” You whine after he shows no signs of throwing you a bone. “Please tell me you didn’t actually!”

 The little imp takes his sweet time calming down, wipes a tear or two and ruffles his hair again in that infuriating way you know that he knows he looks good. Your little glare has turned imploring at this point and at the sight of your pathetic self; Jimin rolls his eyes as he kisses his teeth.

 “Alright, alright. I just messed with him a bit; a little traumatized from it maybe but he’ll live…. unfortunately.” He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair as plump lower lips jut out in a pout. “You’re so lucky I have some restraint. I was this close to setting him on fire.” Jimin demonstrates it by bringing up a hand, the pads of his pointer and thumb a hair away from touching before he drops it to sigh out wistfully, “It’s tragic.”

 You can’t help but breathe a laugh through your nose from his theatrics before flopping back against your pillows, hands over your face because you can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Good, that’s one less thing to worry about. But now that just brings your attention to the next thing.

 “What about Jaehee?”

 “What about her?”

 “She knows who you are now! Don’t you have some demon magic to make her forget?”

 “Why would I?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “She just thinks I look freakishly like your celebrity crush. Besides,” He takes the time to cross his legs elegantly and fold his hands over a knee. “This just makes things easier for us doesn’t it? I don’t have to skulk around like some pervert, as you had so affectionately called my ’guardian duties’.”

 “Yeah, but that still won’t explain why you’re skulking around in my bedroom…. like a pervert.”

 “Oh darling is that what you’re so worried about?” He coos at you, leaning forward slightly to pin you with a deep amber gaze that has you unconsciously leaning back even from beneath the safety of your covers. It’s like you’re held captive against your will with just a single look from him, wanting so much to look away out of self-consciousness but the way his hooded eyes seem to swirl in a multi-faceted display of rich, dark hues that remind you of molten lava has you so entranced. Before you know it, you’re lost and drowning in them, so hyper-aware of everything about him. You swallow thickly when you see his rosy lips part and the sounds of his voice flows out in a timbre that seems to rumble from his chest, husky and low.

 “Would you like me to fix that for you?”

 All at once, you feel your face flush with a heat that seems to travel through your entire body along with a slew of emotions that has your mind going haywire. You’re frazzled, heart beating ridiculously hard against your chest from the implication but to your complete horror and slow realization, most of these feelings aren’t even directed at his words. Instead, you find that it was more so towards your own racing thoughts and the small admission that you’re…. actually slightly turned on?!

 The blankets have become far too hot now but it’s your only line of defense if you hope to get out of this one with your dignity still intact. Only that seems like a pipe dream because Jimin snorts out another laugh that breaks the sultry mask he had on, eyes practically disappearing amidst his muffled laughter. Of course it does nothing to calm your nerves because 1) the speed of which he switches demeanour baffles you, 2) now you’re on the verge of busting the biggest uwu you’ve ever had and 3) he fucking knows.

 You really wish the devil himself would come and take you to the deepest pits of hell now because your face feels like it’s caught fire to keep it burning for the next thousand or so years.

 “Oh dear, did I break you?” Jimin giggles and all you can do is glare petulantly at him; the only thing you make visible from beneath your blanket wall while choosing to mutter angrily under your breath (you’d rather not risk incriminating yourself further). You don’t need this sort of disrespect from him, not when you’ve also barely managed to get out of bed. He doesn’t seem to care though, with that shit-eating grin on his face as he gets up from his seat, hands stuffed into his pocket to stare down at you, eyes still twinkling mischievously.

 “Don’t be such a sour puss, kitten. Now go wash up before your breath starts peeling the wall paint.”

 “WHAT THE FU—?!”

 -

 By the time you’re done washing and officially ‘woken’ up, it’s two in the afternoon and Jimin was nowhere to be found. You huff to yourself, missing out on clobbering him for that last comment but eventually shrugged it off and went about your day with the intent of relaxing to the fullest. You’re thankful that both you and Jaehee have unanimously decided it was a lazy, stay-at-home, minimal social interacting day (though you can pretty much guess the reason why, not that you’re complaining).

 Your only hiccup was skirting around Jaehee who had told you she thought she heard you yelling in your room when she greeted you (to which you brush it off by saying you thought a spider had crawled its way up your arm, you know, like a liar). Other than that, you’re finally getting a much deserved self-care session that involves you, a warm cup of tea and re-watching Burn The Stage: The Movie for the nth time.

 “Hey what you want for dinner tonight Y/N?” Jaehee calls to you from the kitchen. You shift an earphone out from your place on the living room couch and give it some thought before ultimately coming up short.

 “I don’t know; make whatever you feel like Jaehee.”

 “Oh c’mon, is there really nothing you crave? How about I make your favourite dish?” She pokes her head out from the threshold to give you a pout. Jaehee, on top of still being apologetic over what happened between you and Mike, insisted that she cooks you dinner to make up for it (even after telling you that she told Jason to never bring or hang around with Mike ever again, which was really all you could ask for). You smile at her wryly with a shrug because you like any food Jaehee makes (and she makes some pretty bombass food).

 Knowing this, Jaehee blows a raspberry before tilting her head back in thought before whipping back around again. “Fine! But no complaining when it’s not what you’re expecting!”

 “When have I ever Jaehee?” You laugh.

 Contrary to your indecision, it doesn’t take long for Jaehee to get to work, the sounds of chopping and pans clanking flowing out steadily from the kitchen and before you know it, the sizzling chorus of rice being fried takes over along with the aromatic smell of meat, herbs and kimchi. You feel yourself salivating.

 “Dinner’s ready!” Jaehee calls out and you’re more than ecstatic. Placing down your laptop, you hop off the couch and pad over to the kitchen, letting your nose lead you. And you were not disappointed because Jaehee had just finished setting down a cast iron pan full of kimchi fried rice, topped with two sunny-side up eggs, chopped scallions, nori and sprinkled chilli powder on your small dining table.

 “Oh my god Jaehee, how do you do this?” You ask, openly gaping because wherein you think you have quite the baking talent, Jaehee is all about the culinary stuff; taking simple dishes and spicing them up by adding ingredients or trying different methods of serving. She only grins back at you, shimmying her shoulders in way that clearly shows she’s pleased with herself. Jaehee takes a seat and you do as well, picking up the metal spoon that’s been set down.

 “Thanks for the food!” You say before digging in too eagerly. The first bite nearly makes you moan aloud and it just further fuels your gusto. You’re about half way into dinner; happily chatting with Jaehee about the Netflix show you’ve both following when the doorbell chimes. You stop, spoonful of fried rice halfway into your mouth as you and Jaehee exchange puzzling looks.

 “Uh, I wasn’t expecting anyone….” Jaehee says, though she’s slowly getting up from her seat anyways. You remain unmoving, only gently setting down your spoon to shoot Jaehee a tentative look.

 “Maybe if we pretend we’re not home they’ll go away? Probably could be a solicitor.”

 “I’ll just take a peek, I don’t think it’s Jason even though sometimes he’ll get off work early. But he usually lets me know…” Jaehee’s voice fades as she steps further into the threshold of your front entrance. You lean your chair a little to try to get a view of the doorway but all you see is a sad, indiscernible corner, even though you’re nearly toppling over. You hear her footsteps halt, a silent pause, and then a loud gasp. You’re instantly alerted but before you can ask what’s wrong, you hear the clicking of locks unfastening and the door opening.

 “Julien!”

 You let out an undignified loud squawk from actually nearly toppling over on your chair but it gets lost amidst Jaehee’s excited chatter. By the time you’ve righted yourself, you’re a disheveled mess as Jaehee comes bounding in like a golden retriever, wide smile splitting across her face.

 “Julien’s here! He stopped by saying you didn’t text back so he got worried and wanted to check up on you! Go say hi!” She gets out in one breath and you’re only left to stare wide-eyed at her in a malfunctioning manner.

 “Wha— Where— Huh?!” You get out intelligently. But Jaehee is having none of it, quickly switching over to ‘mother mode’ with her hands on either hips, pursed lips and a pointed look that pretty much screams, ‘go say hi to your relative that you haven’t seen since you were five years old!’

 “Girl, he’s waiting by the door! Go talk to him!”

 And without waiting for your response, she promptly drags your chair out from the table, grabbing your wrist to haul you to the door with your body still in flight or fight mode. But it’s too late, Jaehee’s got you in a vice grip and you arrive out into the hallway where you clearly see Jimin, in all of his fucking glory, idly standing by the front door in such an effortless modelesque way that anyone could easily set up a photo shoot right here and now and he would be ready. He’s still wearing the outfit you last saw him in; only he’s thrown on a chic blazer-cut, dark grey pea coat with a black, white-trimmed scarf draping over his shoulders. If you squint, you see the trademark C’s embroidered at the corners: Chanel.

 You feel poor just looking at it; ten times more so because you’re still in one of your less than cute PJs.

 He immediately turns his attention towards the two of you approaching him; lips quirking into an easy smile but all you see is a snake. Jaehee doesn’t catch the disgruntled look on your face directed at Jimin, too preoccupied in being a good host.

 “Sorry, Y/N’s just a little caught off guard. She doesn’t do well with spontaneity.”

 Jimin lets out an airy laugh, the back of his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “I sort of figured. Again, I’m really sorry if this is a bad time; I just really want to check up on Y/N considering what happened last night.”

 “Well!” You pipe up, voice rising unintentionally from the need to end this conversation and kick him out of here as fast as you can. “I’m totally fine! — As you can see. So thanks for stopping by but yeah, you shouldn’t waste your time here now. So….”

 “Y/N!” Jaehee warns under her breath, followed by a pinch to your arm that has you flinching away with a pout. She plasters on a pleasant smile but through the blinding pearly whites, she grits out to you, “Would you mind keeping our guest company for a bit? I’m gonna go clean up and set up some tea and coffee okay?”

 “Oh no—“ You start but are taken aback when you hear your voice overlapping with Jimin’s. You whip your gaze to him the same time he does to you in movie-like comedic timing. Your eyes narrow as his only take on a twinkling mischievousness, knowing full well that you wanted him out of here while he’s only putting up an act of modesty. Of course, to Jaehee, it all looks too cavity inducing sweet so with an unfortunately misplaced, knowing look, she saunters off saying that she’ll go make that coffee and tea now with a tone of finality, leaving you no choice but to be alone with your pain-in-the-ass guardian. At least now, it gives you a moment of privacy to properly talk to him without having to keep face.

 “What are you doing here?!” You whisper yell and on instinct, throw in a slap to his arm. He easily bats it away, grinning in a Cheshire-like fashion.

 “Isn’t it obvious cherub?”

 You retaliate back with a barrage of slaps, wanting to wipe that stupid grin off his face. It works somewhat because now he’s scowling at you, even though he easily defends himself by holding up an arm.

 “This is Gucci you know.”

 “You need to leave right now! You can’t just show up at my door like this!”

 “On the contrary, I think as your dutiful guardian, it’s in our best interest if I build a rapport with those you associate yourself with yes?”

 “That’s highly debatable.” You shoot back with a hiss. The clinking of ceramic mugs has you darting your eyes away from Jimin to the kitchen, making you miss out on the way he mimics you sassily. You inwardly curse because you almost physically feel your chances of getting Jimin out of here become slimmer and slimmer. You immediately whip back to him, an accusatory finger raised to his face and words spilling out in such rapid succession that you struggle to keep the volume down. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing right now but you’re crossing the line! You do know that you’re actually risking your own cover by doing this right? So if shit hits the fan and you get found out and then get exorcised, don’t come whining to me about getting thrown back to hell and doing grunt work.”

 All throughout your berating, Jimin only smiles amused, which only infuriates you further. You’re over here about to blow a gasket but he just gives you a look like you’re a yapping little Chihuahua who has a lot to say. Well, you do! And this little Chihuahua is about to bite his head off—!

 “Breathe sweetheart, or I fear you might put yourself into cardiac arrest.” He chastises with feigned exasperation, placing a placating hand on your tense shoulders. You shoot him a hard glare, shoulder hunching up even more before he finally lets out a sigh, seeing as you’re not receptive to his playfulness. “Look, nothing’s going to happen, I promise. And though I do enjoy terrorizing you until you’re a frazzled mess, I’m not careless.” He pauses to give you a sincere, reassuring smile. “Trust me on this one.”

 The smile is so disarming that you eventually find yourself deflating, letting out a deep, calming breath. As you sink a little deeper into thoughts, you actually find that he’s right to a certain degree. Jaehee so far doesn’t seem to suspect anything beyond thinking Jimin looks funnily enough like your actual idol crush and your doppelgänger here has yet to give away any hints that he’s actually a supernatural entity you’ve made a contract with. But you find that’s all besides the point, what you find more troubling is that you’re starting to become too aware of the effects he has on you and he’s not even actively using an ounce of his demonic powers; that fact alone messes you up in more ways than one.

 He had so easily calmed and swayed your emotions with only a few spoken words that are always delivered in a way you least expect. When you think you’ve got him pinned for being a snarky, sassy, materialistic, nuisance of a demon who has a devious streak and finds amusement in making your life a little harder than it should at times (under the guise of being your ‘guardian’), he hits you with another side to him that lets you get a glimpse of something softer; that in spite of it all, he’ll never let you down when it counts. And you would think this bias stems from the fact that he looks like your idol crush but…. you find that it’s not. It’s more than that, and it sort of scares you.

 Throughout your silent brooding, Jimin watches and waits patiently, the faintest of smiles ghosting his lips. He can’t help but admit to himself that the creasing of your brow, as you’re lost in your own thoughts is endearing however, he finds that the look doesn’t quite suit you. So he presses a finger to soften the harsh lines. In turn, his cool touch snaps you out of your reverie, eyes focusing back on him again.

 “So are we in agreement?”

 The teasing smile that makes his eyes crease up into crescents annoys you but you have no arguments left against him. Casting your eyes to your feet, you mumble out an ‘I guess’, crossing your arms as heat begins to rise from your cheeks. Suddenly, you feel a hand rest on your head, giving you a gentle pat of affection.

 “That’s my girl.” You hear Jimin cooing. Stubbornly, you still refuse to meet eyes with him but your childishness only makes him chuckle. There’s a pause, a silence washing over you two as the faint smell of coffee starts to permeate the air. You’re not quite sure where to go from here to be honest, the tiniest piece of your pride bruised from not having the last word (you’d rather not be fuelling Jimin’s ego if you so can help it). But Jimin being… Jimin, has no regards to reading the room.

 “You know for a second, I could’ve sworn you were actually concerned if I get myself exorcised.” He teases slyly, which almost automatically sparks a retort at the tip of your tongue but as fate would have it, Jaehee’s voice interrupts you before you can get it out.

 “Coffee and tea’s ready!”

 You huff incredulously, watching Jimin shoot a wink and a finger gun at you before walking off to the kitchen. You follow, grumbling under your breath.

 The rest of the evening was basically spent with you being sandwiched between your roommate and guardian demon getting chummy with each other. Half the time you spend sipping your tea while the other you’re trying not to roll your eyes until they fall out of your skull every time Jimin laughs at a comment Jaehee has made (he’s so fake). By the time Jimin has finally decided that he should be heading off now, you’re thanking the heavens and are all too eager to get him out of the house.

 “It was really nice to have a proper conversation with you Jaehee.” Jimin says as he bends down to slip on his loafers.

 “Likewise! I’m really glad to have met you properly, considering how our first meeting sort of went.” Jaehee cheerily replies back. Once Jimin secures the laces, he stands to his full height and flashes a charming smile; hands stuffed into his pea coat pockets.

 “Thanks for the coffee again, I hope we’ll be seeing each other more in the future.”

 “Of course! Don’t be a stranger when you swing by okay? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

 “You know I’m still here.” You pipe up from behind Jaehee. Your friend waves you off as Jimin lets out a short chuckle before he perks up with a thought.

 “Oh! Almost forgot.” He fishes out his mobile, unlocking it and handing it to Jaehee. “Just so we can easily stay in touch. Never know when that one might cause trouble.” He nods towards you and you scoff, offended, as the words spill out from you before you realize it.

 “Uh? Rude?”

 Jaehee just laughs at your bickering, handing back Jimin’s phone and pulling you forward with an arm slung around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, I feel like as long as she’s got us and BTS, she’ll be fine.”

 Now you really want the devil himself to come up and take you away from this; what’s taking him so long?

 “Eh, you might actually be right on that.” Jimin replies with a smile before he’s turning towards the door. “Well, I’ll be off then. See you around Jaehee.” He pauses to shoot you a patronizing wave, the tone of his voice switching to a more sing-songy one as he says, “Bye Y/N~”

 You roll your eyes (loudly), shaking your head. “Just go.”

 His eyes crinkle just a little more at your deadpan comment, making his cheeks become rounder than usual. It makes him look very much like that little Bao from the Pixar short film.

 Oh no….

 You bite down on your lip as subtly as you can because you feel the itch of your lips quirking up at the thought. No, no, no, no, no! The little animated bao is way cuter than Jimin—Your Jimin— THIS GUARDIAN DEMON JIMIN DANG IT!

 Thankfully, obviously-not-cute-gurdian-demon Jimin leaves with that shit-eating grin still on his face before he can catch you red handed. You sigh out heavily once the door clicks shut, temples throbbing with an oncoming headache. You hear Jaehee laugh again, giving you a good shake before she walks off to clean up the mugs.

 “You two already seem like an old married couple.”

 You splutter, rushing after her to adamantly reply, “W-What are you talking about?! I’ve only known him for...” You pause to count, “A month and half now?”

 She shoots you a look from the sink before turning back around with a fox-like smile to herself. “Yeah, but you’re awfully comfortable already.”

 You huff, taking your place beside her to rinse the washed dishes. Jaehee gives you a gentle nudge with her shoulder, playful in a way that you pick up the message she’s trying to convey. You know she means no harm by it, but the fact of the matter is that she still has no idea of the bigger picture behind this Jimin look-alike, aka Julien (as the demon himself so affectionately named).

 “I really think he’s a nice guy, and you seem like you’re fond of him.” Jaehee says, “Bonus points is the fact that he looks like your celebrity crush. I mean how lucky is that?”

 “Super.” You reply, can’t help the sarcasm leaking through your words. It causes Jaehee to snort.

 “Okay, okay I’ll stop. But even though I think he’s a nice guy and that you should totally date him—“

 “Hey!”

 “If anything happens, ‘cus guys are just stupid like that, you tell me and I’ll go beat him up for you okay?”

 You highly doubt that would be possible, but you appreciate the sentiment. Still, you suppose a small part of you is glad that Jaehee’s basically given you her blessings if you so, hypothetically, decide to date Jimin. Not that you would ever because that’s just weird and wrong but like you know, the feeling is nice…. what are you even saying?! Ugh, you need to sleep.

 You and Jaehee finish up quickly and bid each other goodnight before heading off to your respective rooms. Your mind is set on taking a nice, refreshing shower to clear your thoughts and also pamper yourself a bit. The thought makes you smile as you shuffle around your room to grab a new set of PJs and pull out fresh underwear from your drawer.

 “Interesting colour choice, though I prefer baby blue.”

 “Jesus!” You jump back with a hand clutched to your chest, gaze whipping to the source of the voice.

 “Ddaeng.” Jimin chimes as he climbs down from his perch on your dresser drawer.

 “Don’t,” You grab the closest thing to you — which is your cat plushy— and angrily chuck it in his direction but he effortlessly leans out of the line of fire and the poor thing smacks into your wall of posters behind him. “Do that!”

 “Not my fault you’re so faint hearted.” He grabs the abused plushy and holds it out to you with a snide smile. Heat flushes your cheeks rapidly but you still swipe it away from him, using it as a shield to hide your intimate wear instead as you glare him down.

 “What do you want now?”

 “I just came here to let you know that I approve of your friend and therefore, won’t be staging her demise any time soon.”

 “You—Wha…” You’re flabbergasted, mouth moving but failing to articulate any real words until you give your head a slight shake as if to physically knock yourself back to your senses. “W-Why does that even matter? I would’ve exorcised you myself if you so much as touch a hair on her.”

 Jimin lets out a hearty laugh with a toss of his head (which you promptly shush him for, nearly sending the plush toy in your hands flying at him again but stopping last minute because you’re also holding your underwear).

 “Yeah, alright princess. But I meant it when I said that it would be beneficial for us if I got acquainted with your friends.” He strides over to your full-length mirror and proceeds to fluff his hair in front of it, continuing to speak to you off-handedly all the while, like Narcissus gazing as his reflection in the pond. “That way I can keep better tabs on you when I’m not around.”

 You give pause to the last part of his statement, nose scrunching in confusion. “Wait why wouldn’t you be around? — Don’t you even dare.”

 He closes his mouth to smirk instead at your warning through the mirror, and you actually see him toying with the idea of commenting on your question for a few moment. Eventually though, he chooses not to but not without having to bite his lower lip to hold himself back. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes.

 “I meant as in aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon? So, doesn’t that mean you have to stick by me most, if not, all the time?”

 “Alas, I am not your personal Cerberus to wait on your every beck and call.” Jimin sighs, spinning on his heels to give you a pouting, tearful expression; like it’s the most devastating piece of news he has to tell you. “As long as you’re not in harm’s way, my job as guardian is being fulfilled as far as I’m concerned.” He saunters over to you until you have to crane your neck up to look him in the face. The substantial height difference seems to amuse him, his smile growing wider as he looks down on you.

 “Besides my darling homebody, I am a creature of the night; so naturally, I’d rather be spending my time lurking in dark corners and preying on poor, forsaken souls.”

 Ugh, you should’ve known. Of course his idea of fun would be to terrorize people but as messed up as it is, he’s got a point; who are you to tell him he can’t just because he’s your guardian? The contract (and the oath he gave you) really does only state that as long as he keeps you safe and no harm comes to you under his watch, he’s doing his job perfectly. You breathe out heavily, like a parent begrudgingly giving into their rebellious teen’s questionable antics. You can take the demon out of hell, but you can’t take the hell out of a demon you suppose.

 “Just— don’t do anything stupid okay? Like something that would get you arrested because I don’t have the money to bail you out.” You groan out exasperatedly, headache coming back with a vengeance. You could really go for that steaming hot shower and cucumber facial mask right about now.

 Jimin grins, crescent eyes and all but says nothing in response to your ultimatum as he begins to back away from you, hands behind his back like a mischievous little boy who’s taken the last cookie from the cookie jar and blamed it on his little brother, no remorse whatsoever.

 “Jimin—“ You begin, trying to sound stern but it ends off sounding like a whine of desperation. You seriously don’t have money to bail him out if he gets arrested!

 “Don’t miss me too much!” He sings and in a wispy cloud of black smoke, he’s gone before you can attempt a choke hold on him; leaving no trace of his insufferable being other than the fading sounds of his delighted cackling.

 After a few moments of counting backwards from ten, your head lops back, letting your gaze bore into the ceiling as if to address an invisible security camera watched by God or whoever was up there in a very ‘The Office’ like fashion. Maybe you should consider going to the church to repent for your sins…. or maybe this is the divine punishment itself; being stuck with an annoying demon who ironically looks like your idol crush like your own special kind of hell.

 Whatever it is, the Lord is really testing you.

 You miraculously make it to the shower without any further incident. You triple check that Jimin won’t be appearing any time soon to give you another one of his surprise visits before stripping your clothes and hopping into the shower, turning the water setting to a searing hot temperature. Times like these you wished you had a Jacuzzi to relieve your stress and tense muscles in, but all you have is aromatherapy and self-spa care. It still does the trick so you’re not complaining. You reach for your body wash and upon flicking it open; the familiar smell of lavender-vanilla washes over you and almost immediately, your mind thinks to a certain demon.

 You reel for a second, contemplating whether or not you should change your body wash but find that the more you think about other possible alternatives, no other scent calms you like lavender-vanilla does.

 Even if it also reminds you of him.

 -

 Jimin does as he says he would. For the next few weeks or so, you find that he’ll vanish during most hours of the night, only to turn up at random times during the day to check in on you (read: pester and make sure you haven’t gotten yourself killed). Sometimes he doesn’t appear until you’ve come home from work or school but then sometimes you’ll see him leave the same night and then show up bright and early the next day when you wake up. He stops by as ‘Julien’ from time to time as well (much to Jaehee’s delight and your chagrin, you swear he does that just to keep you on your toes).

 But in spite of his teasing and poking, there are days where you come home absolutely drained from a long or particularly bad day, you’ll find sweets like chocolate or a steaming cup of tea sitting on your desk. At first you thought it was Jaehee but then after some careful reconsiderations (that involves you trying to weasel your way out of one awkward conversation of, ’thanks for the chocolates…Oh you never got chocolates…Maybe I forgot I had chocolates haha oops! I must be getting old! Haha never mind!’), you accept that it might possibly be from your not-as-annoying-when-he-chooses-to-be demon.

 Bah, you scoff to yourself as you fish your keys out of your pocket. Why are you getting so worked up over who gave you the chocolates? You’re a simple person, and chocolate is chocolate no matter what (unless they’re marzipan or mint, you will never understand them). It’s been another long day and all you can think about is taking a steaming hot shower and curl up into your comforter to binge watch those two episodes of RUN! BTS that you missed. So as soon as you unlock the front door, you fling your shoes off and drag your feet to your room, pushing open the door unceremoniously with the sole of your foot.

 You freeze mid-step when you spot a dark figure hunching over your desk. It takes a second for you to catch your nerves, hand falling away from your chest that you had unknowingly brought up from being startled.

 “Geez, you scared me! Aren’t you supposed to be lurking the night like Batman or some...thing….“

 The sentence fizzles out past your lips as you watch the figure straighten to their full height. It shouldn’t have been alarming, only it is because whoever this is is clearly not your guardian. For one they are noticeably taller, as well as a little broader in places you’re not used to seeing on Jimin like in the shoulders. But despite that, they still taper down to a rather impossibly slim waistline, made visibly known thanks to them tucking their cobalt blue silk shirt into their pants. On top of the longer legs, you see the straining of muscled thighs against tight black jeans that you think would even rival Jimin’s; actually they might even beat out Jimin’s because you remember his thighs being thick (let’s not discuss how), but you don’t think they were that thick.

 Yeah, definitely not Jimin.

 As if that wasn’t obvious enough, the figure turns around to face you and you finally see his face. Big doe eyes, large nose and a toothy bunny-like smile make up this youthful, handsome face as he catches sight of you before taking a bite out of your chocolate bar. You stagger back, not believing it.

 “Hello poppet.” Jeon Jungkook grins at you.

A/n: Jungkook shoot dances his way into battle!

[my-proof-is-you]

Healing You - Ch. 1

Summary: You were pretty close to dying, you were sure. It was going to be over, and what would you have to show for it?

A great career as a nurse, sure. But you lacked passion and romance in your life.

Luckily, a handsome man with piercing green eyes saves you. While you were sure you’d never see him again, life had other plans for you.

Chapter 1

You rolled your eyes and blinked harshly in pain when you felt the needle hit muscle instead of your vein.

This moron—whatever he was—could not find a vein for the life of him. Being that you were a nurse, you were tempted to snatch it away from him and do it yourself. Even if that would be aiding in your own death.

You took a deep breath as he prepared to insert the needle again, the dank smell of the basement filling your nostrils. You were certain that with each breath there were mold spores finding their way into your lungs.

You shifted your eyes away from your bruised arm and the imbecile that caused it and focused on the girl in the chair a few feet away. She was hanging on by a thread, the blood loss too great to keep her conscious. You knew that at any moment she could stop breathing.

“Oh, my God, you would think you’d be an expert at this by now!” you yelled angrily at the thing. It bore its fangs at you before slapping your face with the back of his hand.

You knew it was stupid to say anything, but you just couldn’t handle the incompetence. You had been named head nurse at the hospital where you worked at a fairly young age. You were good at your job, and the hospital recognized that. Every nursing student you had taught since then could find a patient’s vein on the first try. They practiced on countless oranges and each other until you knew they were experts at drawing blood and inserting IVs.

So watching this douche who was going to kill you anyway was almost too much to bear.

He finally got it and you watched as your warm blood filled the tube that was connected to a blood bag. He walked up the creaky wooden stairs before pushing open the cellar door. A short burst of light came in and you knew it was still daytime. Which day, though, was something you weren’t sure of.

You were pretty sure they were vampires. You gave yourself about thirty seconds to freak out about their existence when they first captured you before making yourself accept it and move on.

These vampires were not what you expected, though. It seemed that they captured people, slowly collected their blood, and disposed of them when they died. It was unlike any story of vampires you had heard before. These vampires didn’t bite into your neck to suck your blood, or turn into bats, or even seem all that affected by sunlight.

You started to feel woozy from the loss of blood and you knew it would only be a day or two more before you were looking like the girl next to you. She had been conscious a few times here or there and you had been able to find out that she had been captured only a few days before you.

They had been giving you water, presumably to keep you alive longer and keep you producing blood for the time being. You knew, though, that it would be too hard for them to keep up with after a while, and they would let you die.

You hadn’t thought about death for a long time. As a nurse, you saw death a lot. But your own death was something you thought wouldn’t come until you were old.

Before you knew that you wanted to be a nurse—when you were still pretty young—you couldn’t picture yourself doing any job when you grew up. Most kids said they wanted to be a fireman or a dentist. But not you. You were oddly morbid as a child, and your little mind thought that maybe not knowing what you wanted to do meant that you wouldn’t get the chance to grow up—that maybe you were going to die at a young by age.

Maybe I was right, you think to yourself. This would definitely still be considered dying young. Of course, you found your calling when you graduated high school, and after you went to nursing school and got your RN you never looked back. At the age of 27, you were pretty pleased with your life.

The one thing that bummed you out, though—besides the no longer living part—was that you didn’t feel that you ever met your one true love.

You had boyfriends in the past, but none of them were long term and most turned out to be jerks. You never knew true passion, and that was definitely something you regretted while facing death.

Little black spots began to appear in your vision, and you knew unconsciousness was coming soon. You didn’t fight it. You just let it take you away from your worries and regrets and into the silence.

Dean

“Dude, ten missing people in two weeks. That sounds pretty monster-y to me.”

Dean shoved the newspaper in his little brother’s face, aching to get out of the bunker and on a hunt.

“Yeah, that’s weird, but what if it’s just a serial killer?” Sam asked.

“Either way!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “We’ve dealt with monsters and bat-shit humans before. I’m just sayin, we gotta get out of here or I’m gonna lose it,” he continued, wiping a hand down his face. 

It had been two weeks since the brothers’ last hunt, and Dean had grown tired of the dark walls of the underground bunker they lived in. He wanted—no, needed—to get out and drive his baby, his beloved Impala.

Sam ran his hands through his chestnut hair with a sigh. “Okay. But if it’s another bunch of crazies like the Benders, we’re out of there.”

Sam had been kidnapped by a crazy cannibal family in the past, and Dean understood his caution toward that happening again. He also somehow knew in his gut that this wasn’t the work of humans, though.

Dean practically jumped with happiness when Sam said they could go, and he grabbed his keys and his go-bag before rushing to the garage door like an excited puppy. He didn’t even care if that was how he came off. He just needed to be in his car with his windows down and music blaring.

A few hours later they were pulling up to an old house off a dirt road after talking to several locals. They had figured out that there were some newcomers in the small town, and they hadn’t gone unnoticed. When they had been questioned about the kidnappings from the local police, they came up clean. Sam and Dean knew better, though. Many monsters knew how to blend in and what to say to throw off suspicion.

They knocked cracked wooden front door to the house and waited for someone to answer. When no one did, they decided to snoop around the side of the house and see if they could see through any windows.

All the windows were covered except for one spot where a blanket had been moved, causing a small corner view into the house. Dean wiped the dust from the window with his sleeve and looked inside.

It was dark inside the house. The window showed into the living room, where five men were sleeping in different spots. Some were on a big, ratty couch and some were on the floor. Dean was thankful that they hadn’t heard when he and Sam knocked on the door.Just from the fact that they were all sleeping during the day he was nearly positive that they were vampires. Getting any living hostages out would be a lot easier with them asleep since they could get in and kill them while they slept.

Sam and Dean got in and took off all the vamps’ heads quickly and with little effort. They searched the house, but didn’t find any hostages. In fact, they didn’t even find any bodies or traces of blood.

“Dean!” Sam called from the kitchen.

Dean walked in with his machete ready just in case. Sam was standing in front of the refrigerator, the door open wide. Inside, where there should have been food, were piles and piles of blood bags.

“What kind of weirdo vamps were these?” Dean asked, picking up one of the bags.

“I don’t know, but we know these didn’t come from a hospital. They must have been taking blood from the victims and storing it.”

“Which means some of them might still be alive,” Dean concluded.

“But we checked everywhere, Dean. Where else could they be?” Sam asked.

Dean thought back over every inch of the house. He even thought about the outside, which was when he remembered seeing a cellar door.

“The cellar,” he said quietly. Both brothers immediately ran outside. When they reached the cellar door it was padlocked, but a quick trip to the Impala later they had the lock cut open.

They crept down the stairs in case any more vamps were there. 

Sam and Dean split up when they reached the bottom, each one untying a victim from their chair.

Dean knelt down when he had you untied. He lightly tapped your face, trying to see if he could get you to come to.

After a few moments, your y/e/c eyes fluttered open and landed on Dean.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not a vampire,” Dean explained quickly. You looked skeptical but nodded as you noticed that you were untied.

“You have to get me over there,” you said in a raspy voice. Dean’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. He followed your gaze over to the other victim, a young blonde that Sam was still trying to wake.

You started to get up and Dean watched as you wobbled. He quickly stood up as well and wrapped an arm around your waist to help support you. When you reached the girl you immediately put your fingers to her neck.

“Her pulse is thready. She won’t make it much longer. We have to get her to a hospital,” you said. Sam and Dean just stared at you, surprised. You looked back and forth between the men, your hand going to your hip. “Now!” you yelled. The brothers swept into action, Sam picking the girl up and carrying her up the stairs, while Dean continued to help you walk.

“Those things dead?” You asked quietly after you were up the stairs and Dean walked you to the car.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Thank you—“ you gestured questioningly.

“Dean,” he filled in for you.

“Dean,” you finished, nodding. Your face was serious, but Dean noticed that it lacked any fear. “I’m Y/N.”

[waterstar2016]

Hello, goddess! I have a prompt for you! Reader is Raphael's girlfriend. She's a motorcycle-rider, leather jacket-wearer, has a New Yorker accent, all the goods. Her father owns a motorcycle shop and is the leader of a Biker gang. So, the very night Raphael goes to introduce his brothers to Reader, she's in the middle of dealing with members of a rival biker gang, conveniently run by her ex-boyfriend. Raphael watches in satisfaction as she whoops major ass and fawns over her in the end.

Goddess? I am so not worthy of that. *blush* Thank you for this awesome prompt! Totally right up my alley! I hope you like it.

SFW - some violence

The four scaled the side of the building. Reaching the roof they gazed down into the parking lot below. “So, Raph, which one is your girl?” Whispered Mikey. Leo shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Probably the one that he’s been staring at since we got up here.” Raph turned to his brothers and smirked. “Yep, she’s the one wearin the dark red jacket.” Mikey’s eyes travelled to where Raph was pointing. “Dude, she’s freaking hot!” Raph smirked. “I know little bro.”

She was wearing black leather pants that hugged her curves and her blood red motorcycle jacket fit her like a second skin. Her hair was a shade between black and brown and hung halfway down her back. It was dyed bright red underneath. Walking over to her bike (a 2009 Triumph Street Triple) she grabbed something out of her tank bag. Donnie looked at the bike through his goggles. “Wow, it looks like she’s made some major modifications to her bike. I’d like to see how fast it clocks out at.” He flipped another lens down and examined it further and squeaked. “Look at that exhaust!” Raph smiled.

“When do we get to meet her?” Mikey asked, careful to keep his voice down. Raph gave him a quick glance. “After their meeting. She’ll come up here when they’re done. Everyone’s there so they should be starting soon.” Leo’s head turned and he peered into the darkness. “I thought you said everyone was there Raph, there are more motorcycles heading towards us from the South. Raph rolled the toothpick in his mouth. “It’s probably her exes biker gang. They’ve been wanting this territory for years.” Donnie looked at Leo and they exchanged a glance. Raph was being unusually calm about the impending situation.

She heard the motorcycles approaching as well. Her father hollered. “Ya all know what to do. Let’s show these assholes once and for all that they are not welcome in our city. Be ready and be careful, it looks like they’ve brought reinforcements.” The group of nine watched and waited.

Pulling up on an old Harley he swung his leg over and took off his helmet. Hair as black as night and bright blue eyes greeted her. “Morgan.” She hissed. “What the fuck are ya doin here?” The man smiled and the feeling of insects crawled over her and she resisted the urge to shiver. “I thought I taught you better manners? But, that’s besides the point. I want you back. When you ran away two years ago I first thought, good riddance, you were too much work. Always needing punishment.” He paused and she felt his eyes travel over her body making her grit her teeth. “I’ve decided to forgive your past indiscretions.”

Resting her hand on her fathers arm to calm him she stepped away. If Morgan didn’t watch it, he was going to find out what else she’d learned in the two years since she escaped his clutches. “My indiscretions? You beat the hell outta me for putting your orange juice in the wrong glass. I tried leaving that night, but ya had the house on lock down.” She paused, reigning in her anger. “Ya were controlling, abusive and it sickened me when I found out what your corporation actually does. Ya lied to me and my family.” Morgan shrugged. “It’s a hard world. I do what I have to do. Now, enough chit chat. I’ve brought enough people that should I give the command, they will tear apart everything around here. If you come with me now, no harm shall be done.” He held out his hand towards her and smiled. It was a smile that made her stomach turn and it didn’t reach his eyes.

She made herself meet his gaze. “No.” His smile turned into a scowl. “I don’t want to hurt you or your family Princess. Stop this nonsense and come back with me.” She raised her eyebrow and scowled. “There are only two men in the world that are allowed to call me Princess, Morgan. And you ain’t one of ‘em.” Morgan’s posture immediately changed. “Who is he?! I’ll get rid of him real fast.” A slow smile crept across her features. “Morgan, you’re a piece of shit, but I’d rather see you rot in a jail cell then end up in the hospital. Which is where you will end up if you meet him.”

Michelangelo approached his older brother. “Dude, it looks like things are about to go down.” He said while eyeing the one that had spiked studs on his jacket’s shoulders. “Should we go help?” Raph gave Mikey a noogie. “Nah, she’ll be fine, trust me.” There was a sparkle in Raphael’s eyes that none of his brothers had seen before. His answer to hang back even surprised Leo, who honestly thought Raph would have charged the moment Morgan called his girl princess.

Morgan took a few steps closer to her. “I’m giving you one more chance to come back with me, or my gang will destroy your fathers shop.” The group behind him started pulling out pipes and slipping on brass knuckles. “If people get hurt, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” From the rooftop of the shop the guys saw her clench her fists. “You’re scum, Morgan. Ya prey upon those that can’t defend themselves, which is deplorable. The day I managed to escape was the best day of my life.” She paused and cracked her neck. “Now, get on your excuses for bikes and get the fuck off my turf.”

Donnie came up and stood beside Raph. “Uh, the rival gang outnumbers theirs two-to-one Raph, are you sure we shouldn’t step in?” Raphael gave Donatello a grin. “Seriously, it will be ok, just relax.” The three brothers exchanged a look. Raph was telling them to relax? Mikey gave a massive shrug and turned his attention back to what was happening below them.

Her father stepped closer to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Ya need to listen to my daughter Morgan, leave now before this escalates.” Morgan laughed. “You’re the one that supported our alliance in the beginning! You practically threw your daughter at me.” Her father hung his head and squeezed his daughters shoulder in a silent apology. “That was before I saw what your gang was actually about. A mistake I truly regret. My daughter has chosen one that could squash ya like a bug, and I would be proud to call him son. Which is more than I could ever say for you.” Morgans chest was heaving and rage burned in his eyes.

Raph had the biggest smile on his face that the three had ever seen. Leo drew his Katana as the group of men behind Morgan started advancing. Raph rested his hand on his elder brothers shoulder at the sound of singing metal. “Leo, will ya put those things away?” The blue masked leader sighed and sheathed the twin blades. “I don’t know Raph, this looks like this is going to get bad.” Raph chuckled. “Leo, if things turn I will be the first one down there with my Sai ready to rip into anyone that hurts her. So, as Mikey would say…take a chill pill.” Leo narrowed his eyes, but held himself in check.

Suddenly, one of the rival gang charged, and Morgan yelled. “Kill anyone you see and burn down the shop, but leave her to me!” She exchanged a brief look with her father and then they exploded. Her father ran to the left and clotheslined the first to come after him. Slamming his fist in the next ones face he looked behind him to make sure his daughter was alright. Grinning at what he saw he turned back to his own fight.

“Oooooo!” The three yelled as they watched her kick one so hard in the stomach that he lost his supper as he flew backwards. Another grabbed her from behind with a knife at her throat. Before any of them could blink she crushed his nose with her elbow and had his arm twisted behind his back. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter. Flipping him over she slammed him into the pavement and dropped into the splits to trip the next guy that was charging her. Grabbing the knife she hopped up to her feet and threw it, piercing the hand that was holding a pipe which was poised to hit her father on the back of his head. Mikey stared with his eyes wide at the scene unfolding below them. “Duuuuuuuuuuuuude.” He whispered.

Flipping her hair out of her eyes she walked towards her father who was now holding Morgan with the same knife to his throat that was at her own neck only minutes before. Her father looked at her. “It’s up to you Princess, say the word and I will get rid of him for ya.” She cocked her head. Morgans lip was bleeding and she could see that he would have a black eye in the morning. “It’s ok, Daddy. Just hold him for me.” She walked up to him, rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned in close.

Morgan struggled, but her fathers grip was firm. She could see a trickle of blood running down his neck where the blade met his flesh. “If I ever see ya in this city again…I will end you. Do ya understand?” Morgan nodded his head as much as he could without cutting himself further. Without any warning she pulled her leg back and kneed him in the groin, hard. Morgan doubled over and her father let him fall to the ground. “That’s for the three months of hell ya put me through, asshole.” Morgan started dragging himself away, whimpering.

She turned to her father. “Let’s make sure our people are ok and then I want all of their bikes scrapped.” Her father nodded in agreement. “Good job sweetie.” He glanced up to the roof of his shop. “I think Raphael’s here Princess, you should go to him. I’ll manage the rest of things here. I know one day you’ll lead this group just fine. His eyes met the large figure above and gave a nod. Raphael gave him a nod in return. “Thanks, Daddy.” She gave her father a hug and then ran into the shop and up the back stairwell that led to the roof.

Opening the door she smiled at the sight before her. “Red!” she yelled and ran straight into his arms, jumping up so he caught her. She rested her head on his shoulder as he held her to his plastron. “Heya, Princess. Ya were amazing down there.” Setting her down Raph beckoned his brothers forward. “These are my brothers. Leonardo, Donatello and Michelangelo.” Mikey looked at Raph and shook his head. “Bro, don’t be so formal.” Turning to her he smiled. “Call me Mikey.” She smiled and shook his hand. “By the way Sweetcheeks, you seriously kicked some ass down there!” Donnie walked up to her and immediately started asking her questions about her bike.

Leonardo came up to her next. “Please, call me Leo, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Thanks to you, Raph has been more civil lately.” Raph chuckled deeply. Leo rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome to visit our home anytime you wish, our father would like to meet you.” Leo suddenly squinted. “You uh, have some blood on your cheek.” She laughed as Raphael licked his thumb and wiped it off of her face.

Leo laughed quietly at the sight. “I will admit I was worried when I saw how outnumbered your group was. Your fighting skills are impressive.” Raph wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and hugged her to him. “I told ya it would be fine Leo.” She laughed. “I knew you guys were here and Red would have backed me up if I needed it.” She eyed Leo slyly. “Raph’s right, ya are wound pretty tight.” Leo narrowed his eyes at her and then shook his head smiling. “Raph, she’s perfect for you.”

Raph grinned. “Don’t I know it.” She looked at the three in front of her. “So, if you guys are interested I have some cousins that would love to meet ya.” All three sets of jaws dropped. Mikey was the first to break the silence. “Really?! Well bring them on up!” Then he looked at Leo and winced. “Sorry bro, it’s your call.” Leo smiled. Seeing how happy Raph was lately had made each of them wonder if they would ever experience the same thing. Blue eyes glittering he nodded. “It’s fine with me.”

End.

[pixeltownies]

simself tag I was tagged by @fussysim I tag any of my followers that want to do this

take a shot every time I say “my boyfriend”

traits: goofball, foodie, clumsy aspiration: friend of the world 1. What is your full name? tristan egbert 2.What is your nickname? tris/tj 3. Birthday?‪ december 14‬ 4. What is your favorite book series?  I don’t,. really read that often 5. Do you believe in Aliens or Ghosts? Y E S 6. Who is your favorite author? once again I really don’t read 7. What is your favorite radio station? pop + alt 8. What is your favorite flavor of anything? mango, fruit punch, etc etc, I like fruity things 9. What word would you use to describe something great or wonderful? “holy shit!” 10. What is your current favorite song? I have too many favs at all times for this 11. What is your favorite word? curse words lots of curse words 12. What is the last song you listened to? self esteem - the offspring 13. What TV show would you recommend for everyone to watch? ‪jane the virgin, how I met your mother, izombie, Gotham, hmu for more recs ‬ 14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? marvel movies + childhood movies 15. Do you play video games? mostly sims, I have others but I don’t have the accessibility to play them hh 16. What is your biggest fear? being alone 17. What is your best quality in your opinion? I’m good at listening and I’m a big people pleaser 18. What is your worst quality in your opinion? how lazy I am and how quickly I get peeved/angry 19. Do you like cats or dogs better? cats! 20. What is your favorite season? autumn 21. Are you in a relationship? yes :D 22. What is something you miss from your childhood? not much if I’m being honest 23. Who is your best friend? my boyfriend 24. What is your eye color? yellow, red, forest green and royal blue 25. What is your hair color? split pink & black but naturally dirty blonde 26. Who is someone you love? my mom + dad & my boyfriend & my siblings 27. Who is someone you trust? my boyfriend 28. Who is someone you think about Often? m y b o y f r I e n d 29. Are you currently excited about/for something? starting testosterone :) + meeting my boyfriend next year 30. What is your biggest obsession? uHh. cc, sims, Netflix, marvel, my boyfriend 31. what was your favorite tv show as a child? hannah montana, icarly, victorious, sam and cat, there are so many more but I’m absolutely blanking rn 32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to? I don’t really have many friends that are girls .. oops? 33. Are you superstitious? 50/50 34. Do you have any unusual phobias? none that I can really think of 35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? kind of both 36. What is your favorite hobby? PHOTOGRAPHYYYYY 37. What is the last book you read? i. don’t. read. 38. What is the last movie you watched? fantastic beasts with my boyfriend and his best friends 39. What musical Instruments do you play, if any? I am trying to learn guitar but I have ADHD/ADD and I have a hard time self-teaching 40. What is your favorite animal? panda, red pandas, fox, raccoon, turtle, cats. 41. What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow? I just started out. pls. 42. What superpower do you wish you had? I just wish I wasn’t this dumb ((I’m keeping ur answer, I’m wheezing)) 43. When and where do you feel most at peace? when I’m on the phone with my boyfriend 44. What makes you smile? my boyfriend, sims, music, photography 45. What sports do you play, if any? none 46. What is your favorite drink? monster mango loco + pacific punch 47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody? recently I keep a journal of notes to my boyfriend 48: Are you afraid of heights? y e s 49: What is your biggest pet peeve? misophonia, look it up 50. Have you ever been to a concert? yeah 51. Are you vegan/ vegetarian? no, I honestly don’t have the motivation or willpower to do it but when I move in with my boyfriend that’s gonna stop HDHBD 52. When you were little, what did you wanna be when you grew up? cosmetologist/ photographer 53: What fictional world would you like to live in? I can’t think of the name but the place in guardians of the galaxy 54. What is something you worry about? being alone, dying, people not liking me, embarrassing myself. 55. Are you scared of the dark? no, and yes 56. Do you like to sing? yes but I’m not good at it 57. Have you ever skipped school? I dropped out bc of it so yes 58. What is your favorite place on the planet? anywhere my boyfriend is 59. Where would you like to live? U.K. 60. Do you have any pets? 5 cats 61: Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? night owl 62: Do you like sunrises or sunsets better? sunset 63. Do you know how to drive? yes but I don’t have driving license oops 64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? earbuds 65. Have you ever had braces? no, but I need them 66: What is your favorite genre of music? pop punk + indie + pop + basically anything but country, folk, classic dhsjsj shit like that ion like 67: Who is your hero? I don’t think I necessarily have one? 68: Do you read comic books? yes 69: What makes you most angry? misophonia, being blamed for things I didn’t do, not being listened to, being undermined, etc things of the sort 70. Do you prefer reading a book on an electronic device or on a real book? both tbh 71. What is your favorite subject in school? art 72. Do you have any siblings? 10 73. What was the last thing you bought? I can’t remember   74. How tall are you? 5 foot 4 75. Can you cook? not exactly 76. What are three things that you love? boyfriend, music, my cats 77. What are three things you hate? anxiety, fear, abandonment 78. Do you have more male or female friends? male 79. What is your sexual orientation? homosexual but panromantic 80. Where do you currently live? united states /: 81. Who was the last person you texted? my boyfriend 82. When was the last time you cried? idk!!! 83. Who is your favorite youtuber? jacksepticeye 84. Do you like to take selfies? yes I am very insecure but also very vain ((god we are the same person)) 85. What is your favorite app? twitter 86. What is your relationship to your parent(s)?  kind of don’t like necessarily like them but I don’t hate them 87. What is your favorite foreign accent? British accents but this is biased bc of my boyfriend 88. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? japan 89. What is your favorite number? 14 90. Can you juggle? nope 91. Are you religious? I don’t.. know… 92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? outer space, ocean scares tf out of me ((keeping this too)) 93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? impulsive but not daredevil 94. Are you allergic to anything? freshly cut grass tbh 95. Can you curl your tongue? no 96. Can you wiggle your ears? no 97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? normally when it happens if I catch on, if I didn’t realize I was wrong I admit when it’s pointed out 98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? forest 99. What is your favorite piece of advice anyone has given you? uh I haven’t really gotten any 100. Are you a good liar? unfortunately yes 101. What is your Hogwarts house? hufflepuff 102. Do you talk to yourself? when I’m pissed 103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? introvert 104. Do you keep a journal/diary? yes but they’re more like love notes to my boyfriend 105. Do you believe in second chances? yes and I give more than that bc I’m weak and too nice for existence 106: If you found a wallet full of money, what would you do? …. id be lying if I said I’d turn it in right away, I would have to contemplate that 107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? yes but only with help 108. Are you ticklish? yes 109. Have you ever been on a plane? nope, will be next year 110. Do you have any piercings? eyebrow, labret, septum, tongue, my ears are stretched, and I have more piercings planned 111. What fictional character do you wish were real? … uhhHhh I’m blanking 112. Do you have any tattoos? I have an XØ and a fiatp symbol on my left wrist 113. What is the best decision you’ve made in your life? following my boyfriend back when he followed me, to begin with 114. Do you believe in karma? yes for sure 115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? glasses 116. Do you want children? 2-3, I’m adopting though 117. Who is the smartest person you know? my boyfriend 118. What is your most embarrassing memory? I have many 119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? all the time 120. What color are most of your clothes? black or my fav colors 121. Do you like adventure? YES 122. Have you ever been on TV? nope 123. How old are you? 19!! 124. What is your favorite quote? If nothing ever changed, there’d be no butterflies. 125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? savory (and spicy!!!!!!)

[itoshit]

I think I've never been that ready to break some skulls before. I took more weapons than usual, having two on my hips, two others on my thighs and finally, two again in my shoulder straps. I've never been a huge fan of knives, but still got one joining the strap on my leg.

Ran and Rindou were ready, Ran still had his unfamous baton. The others, Kakucho, Koko, Sanzu and Akashi, had guns like I did, ready to pull them out if needed.

Looking over Dante and his men, I noticed the same thing. But one of them looked particularly heavily armed.

Hey Dante, he's your sniper isn't he?

Yeah, we always bring one with us, someone who could change the course of our lives from afar. Also Manjiro, if I can call you that?

Nodding, I got inside the van, him sitting by my side.

Perfecto then. La Cosa Nostra bases its values and morals on their allies. Back in Osaka, I didn't intend to kill you nor severely hurt you. I hope it didn't bring too many inconveniences yeah?

Nothing I'm not used to. But I appreciate your help and concern though

Did you change your hair for your girl?

Cocking an eyebrow at him, I stayed silent.

My girl?

She is, isn't it? Look, I wanted to talk to you last time but I needed to check your strength before. We have minutes ahead so listen to me. In our family (note: the term family refers to the mafia here), women play an important role, and I'm not talking about their pussy. In La Cosa Nostra, we're not ashamed of parading with our girls, our wives. Some of us even have children, like me. I don't understand since when being with a woman in the underground scene made you look weak. Women give you strength, something to fight for. I don't know you very much, but I know how to spot an enamoured man. You're deep into it Manjiro. We have nothing but genuine intentions with Bonten, and we want our allies to be healthy and happy. If I could give you a piece of advice, when your girl will be freed, and I'm saying your girl because she's not a bitch or an animal, tell her how you feel. Life is short as the falling of snow, you could die tomorrow. Don't live with regrets buddy, that's the worst, trust me. Cherish the moments you've with her alright?

After his monologue, Dante smiled cheekily at me, patting my thigh. He wasn't wrong, I knew that. I knew that I'd feelings for Vee, but I was afraid she didn't. I let her enter my life and warm my heart of stone, and it could seem selfish but I didn't want to let her go, never.

You don't have to he ashamed of having feelings for a woman, or a man if that mattered. Partners influence our decisions on a daily basis, and without women in La Cosa Nostra, let me tell you, it would be a mess. They keep us on tracks, scold us when needed. My wife, showing me his ring right after, is my everything. She keeps me sane, Manjiro.

My men were in the other cars and only Dante and I, except our driver, were here.

I don't want to bring her in this life, she doesn't need more-

Sorry to break it to you buddy, but she's already deep enough. Her face is all over the news, you must have seen that yeah? Nodding at him, I kept my gaze on the window.

Then you know, the best thing you can do now is protect her from your world, by staying by her side. That way, these events won't occur ever again. The Yamaguchi-gumi is pulling a nasty move right now. Ones of our few rules are; never look at friends wives; respect wives. The Yamaguchi-gumi disregarded all of them.

Venus isn't my wife.

But you want her to be yours don't you?

Silence settling between us, I tried to imagine myself with her, having a future together.

Do you see a future with her ?

... yes

Here you go. When she'll be saved, you'll have to present her to me, the kitten seems feisty enough to make you go crazy for her

Smiling a bit at his words, I took a decision. As soon as this shit is over, Vee will move in with me. Officially this time. And I won't prevent her from having her life, I'll give her the freedom she wants and needs.

My phone vibrating into my pocket, I took it out. Vee?

But what I heard after made my blood boil. She was screaming, begging me to come and save her. Eyes opened wide at the sound playing in the car, I gripped the phone tightlty, breaking it in the process. Gritting my teeth, I lowered my face down, nails tearing the skin of my palms open.

I'm gonna kill them all, I swear to god, these bastards will regret the day they were born.

Dante's hand on my shoulder, I turned to him.

We'll get them. No one touches our wives, remember? You even dyed your hair to please her. They'll pay for it, no worries Manjiro.

And that's precisely when we arrived. Opening the van's door, I was met with my executives. Ran and Sanzu had a wicked smile on their faces. These two will probably have fun.

Destroy them. I don't want any of them alive at the end of the day. I don't fucking care how you process, break their neck, pierce their eyes, rip their bodies apart or burn them to hell, I want blood. Understood?

And as I gave them my orders, they bowed.

Your wish is our command, boss.

-Mikey

I've changed the presentation, it's easier to understand that way 😌

it’s so nice!

The pain had me passing out, waking up only from the slaps my torturer, who so generously told me to call him Koda gave me. I’d wake up, see the handle of the knife sticking out of my bloody, trembling thigh, get woozy and faint.

This time when I woke up, I didn’t even get to follow the routine established between us because Koda was in my face, gripping my cheeks roughly. It hurt from all his prior roughness, his finger edging closely to the lip he had split. C’mon, Vee. You know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me what you know. I’ll even let you go.

I knew nothing, just like I told him every time he asked, but since he wanted a different reaction, I’d give it to him. Nodding my head, I watched his face slack into a grin as he let mine go, granting me free rein to speak and move my head. The first thing I did with it was cock my head far back and send it slamming into his own, head butting the shit out of him. The impact made my vision blur for a bit, but the sickening crack I heard made it all worth it.

Venus, I corrected, spitting blood onto his now-bleeding nose. I might have broken it. It’s Venus to you, you piece of shit.

You stupid bi— Gunshots. An entire slew of them. Natalie burst into the room, body slick with sweat, eyes wide and nervous.

They’re here! Bonten’s here! My heart leaped. Mikey? They found out about our hideout much earlier than we expected them to! The sound of rapid fire rounds echoed around us, each one sounding closer than the last. If they kept that up, they’d be in this room in no time. The thought of Mikey raining hell down on their skulls made me much happier than I thought it would. They deserved it. I hope they got it. My cackle, sudden and wheezy, startled both Nat and Koda.

I stared Natalie dead in my eyes as I calmed down. You should run, I advised her. She had endangered my life twice, and although I would probably have little say in what happens to her now—she’d burnt too many bridges; Mikey wouldn’t hesitate to put a hole in her skull— so the least I could give her was a head start. You might be able to get out of here if you run now, because if Mikey gets his hands on you… I don’t even allow myself the pleasure of blinking as I speak, wanting my words to resonate deeply with her. So much so that even if she survived, she’d see my face. He will kill you, and I won’t be able to stop him. And you know the worst part, Nat? I don’t think I’ll want to.

The fear in her eyes was palpable like it was that day in the hideout, but I had no sympathy left to offer her. I also could have told her what Koda told me, let her know she’d done this all in vain, but I didn’t, allowing her to walk out of the door and my life for what just might be the very last time.

So, Koda, I turned my head back to look at him pacing. What’s the move? You gonna run too?

Somebody else came flying through the room as I asked him, an underling of his perhaps, yelling the same question I had just asked him in more or less words and a much louder volume. They’re coming, Koda! We have to go!

A certain bang made even me jump. It sounded like it was just around the corner from us.

What’re you gonna do, Koda?

I’m gonna fucking kill you, he snarled, putting the cold nozzle of a gun he yanked from his pocket to my head.

I tried to hide my dread with fearlessness. I don’t mind that, you’ll be coming to keep me company wherever I end up in five minutes. Maybe less.

I could hear the gun clicking as he turned off the safety, eyes level with me. I was about to die, and the funniest part was I wasn’t afraid. Perhaps I knew deep down that even if I did, I’d be avenged. That nobody who tortured me or sought to hurt me would leave this place with their lives or their limbs perfectly in tact. I don’t know what kind of person that made me, but with this gun to my brain, I don’t think I’d have much time to ponder it.

Mikey flashed in my head, my last memories with him. I didn’t even get to kiss him goodbye. I’d have to add that to my never ending list of regrets, not telling him how much he had come to mean to me in such a short time. That he mattered, that he wasn’t cursed. That he deserved to be happy.

A small smile came across my face as our memories played out in my mind. We had come so far, and I was proud of it. If it all came down to it, I lived an overall good life with some really big lows. Pretty alright for me.

Kill them, Manji, is the last wish I made to myself mentally, making sure it got out before my brain matter was splattered across the wall. Kill them all.

[ethicallysourcedhumanmeat]

Yooran Week Day 4: Mint Eye

Still dealing with computer issues but I’m kinda happy this is going up before my Day 1 fic. [AO3]  All my @yooranweek things are from Headcanons related to Catalyst

Saeran had been watching them for almost as long as he could remember.  Before wasn’t real. Not anymore.  Mother and Saeyoung, pain and loss and she had come.  Then there had been Jisu and school and people who’d loved him but it had been fake. 

Time had started when she had come in the middle of the night, no longer the smiling woman with the golden hair, no longer his angel who’d given him life.  She’d snatched them from their beds in the dark and the people he thought had cared for them smiled and thanked her.  Her eyes were manic, her hair was dull and greasy and she was damp and smelled bad.

She’d put them in the cage together, until her lies were truths and the time before was just a dream, a thing to happened to someone else, and he was no one. Unknown

They’d been kept together at first, the scared little girl who’d lived in that house with him, but she was easier than him, she’d had nothing before him and she was more than eager to please the frightening woman with the harsh green eyes.  She’d called her little peach and she’d melted.  She’d been taken and fed.

He took much longer, there were more drugs, more names, no sweet names.  She wanted him to be no one, wanted him alone and abandoned and broken.  She wanted him mean, and he’d seen that person in his mother, he’d seen kindness in his brother.  But starving and ready to die he had surrendered his name, surrendered his life.  He was Unknown, a ghost, a nameless junk yard dog, and Savior held the leash.

At first she’d kept him in her rooms, a soft bed on the floor like a pet and the pretty girl with the pretty dresses and soft eyes would sometimes sit with him, pet his head, sneak him the scraps from her table.  They’d been caught once and Savior had scolded her and beat him.

But as he learned, as he made himself useful she’d praised him.  She held tight to his leash but as he grew, and learned to make himself hard she would give him slack.

The people of Mint Eye feared him.  He was unknown and he was dangerous.

His only job, the one that mattered was to watch the RFA, to keep tabs on them all.  He knew them better than they knew themselves, certainly better than they knew one another and he had his favorites.   

There was heir, the sad dogs best friend who thought he was so smart but was so easily misled, who thought he was so cold when he was just a sad man with a cat.  He liked to watch him in the evenings, when he’d look through photo albums and convince himself he wasn’t alone.

He liked to watch the actor, with his fragile ego mask.  He was boring compared to the heir, going to work coming home, drinking alone, but sometimes he cried.  He liked to see the pretty man with all the fans cry into his beer, afraid of dying alone.

But his favorite was the boy with the purple eyes.  The sad, kind boy who thought he knew so much about her.  He liked to watch him most of all.  Sometimes he would argue with the sad blue dog and he would laugh.  The boy was smart, and for a time, before she’d gone to collect her sad dog, the boy was the only one who suspected she could be alive.

The happy boy who was so sad, the happy boy who would break things in fits of rage when he was alone with his games, the kind boy who could ruin someone’s day if they made one wrong move in a made up world.  He liked that boy.  He watched him more than anyone else.  He’d even played that game once just to ruin his day and hear him scream at him. 

He likes his place here, in Mint Eye, he likes the fear in the eyes of the people who inhabit the castle when he makes his way through the halls.  They way they whisper big man and cower.  The way it had started as a joke, the smallest of her inner circle couldn’t be that dangerous, could he?  But he was and he’d proved it time and again until even the most intimidating people she could find had trouble making eye contact.

Savior and her Peach are waiting in the server room, and all his hard work is about to come to fruition.  Peach will get her name back, she’ll get a life and a job and then when Savior is ready she’ll help him deliver the RFA.  This is step one. 

Savior watches him teach her their names, he can see her stern face and narrowed eyes and the subtle quirk of her eyebrow when he hesitates for a split second as he pulls up the file for Yoosung Kim.  Her chilling smile as she leaves them there to study in peace.

He remembers her face when he enters her private rooms, the echo of her Peach, can I have him.

He doesn’t mean to growl, doesn’t realize he had until her ring tears his cheek with the impact, Savior still smiling that terrifying smile and her Peach’s tinkering laughter.

He doesn’t reach for the wound, doesn’t poke at it with his tongue, he only waits as she smiles between them.

“I’ve thought of a lively game she says,” in a sing song voice that reminds him of than man who should have been his brother.

The pretty girl with the soft eyes who got to be Jisu again smiled and clapped her hands.  “I love your games,” she coos.

He liked to see her smile, that genuine smile that touched her eyes.  The opposite of Savior.  It reminded him of the boy with the purple eyes.

“This is the best one yet,” Savior chirps.  He hates this voice, the smiling Madonna figure she plays sometimes, he hates that this Savior is not for him.  His savior is the cold dead eyes behind the smile, that pierce him to the place his soul would be if he were a person.

He would die for her, and he knows he may have to, he knows she asked it of others.  He knows the Sad Blue Dog will get to die for her one day.

“I want the two of you to work together,” she says grasping both of their hands together between hers, “you’ll bring me the RFA, you’ll bring me those failures and traitors and we’ll show them paradise.”

It’s a lie in a way, they would work simultaneously but not together.  He would watch and she would play.  Savior had been telling him the plan for months now, as he laid the ground work, began to unravel Luciel’s defenses.  Savior had also told him, should they need it, the Peach could be crushed to bring them here.

He watches her face light up, excited to finally have a purpose.

“I don’t care which of you delivers them to me,” she sings letting them go and turning dramatically so that her robes flare out and she looks almost girlish.  “And as incentive,” his ears perk up.  He’d never been give more than a meal or his usual dose, sometimes an extra communion should he go above and beyond in his daily task. “Yoosung is dear to me, but if one of you delivers me the RFA without the help of the other, you can keep him as your prize.”

Big brown eyes light up and she nods.  She’s only bait but she doesn’t know that, she could die for the cause, he life could be in his hands but she doesn’t know that.  The little peach thinks the game is fair, thinks the odds are even.  She trusts her charms and her training and her ability to be a person.

She has no idea the game is rigged, that fairness depends on how he decides to play.  But Savior knows, and she smiles and and twirls and coos with her Peach.  Her cold eyes trained on him, she knows the game depends on him.

[gettingintoknives]

Tag Meme

I was tagged by @english-lit-and-green-tea that you friend!

rules: answer these 89 questions, then tag 20 people.

YOUR LAST: 1. drink?: sprite 2. phone call?: my dad 3. text message?: also my dad, asking about his lizard 4. song you listened to?: My Consequence by Hey Violet 5. time you cried?: last night when i saw wonder woman again 

HAVE YOU: 6. dated someone twice?: technically? 7. kissed someone and regretted it?: hell yeah 8. been cheated on?: well. sort of? its sort of a complex answer considering we weren't technically together. 9. lost someone special?: yes i think so 10. been depressed?: yeah 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: not that i recall but apparently my memory is wrong

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. burgundy 13. dark blue 14. blush

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends?: yes 16. fallen out of love?: the opposite actually! 17. laughed until you cried?: of course 18. found out someone was talking about you?: yes but in a nice way ok 19. met someone who changed you?: yes yes yes 20. found out who your friends are?: meh, i knew already, i just added new ones and removed old ones 21. kissed someone on your facebook list?: no

GENERAL: 22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl?: i dont have Facebook friends that aren't internet friends. 23. do you have any pets?: three lizards, a fish, two frogs, and a dog! 24. do you want to change your name?: once I'm 18 my name will legally be changed to Aster Laurel Montor 25. what did you do for your last birthday?: my craigslist rescue gecko was technically an early birthday gift! 26. what time did you wake up?: five am today, on accident 27. what were you doing at midnight last night?: just got out of the theater after seeing wonder woman again 28. name something you can’t wait for: my juvenile pets to become big adults!! 29. when was the last time you saw your mom?: 5 mins ago when she came to see what i got at the reptile expo today 30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life?: i wish i lived near the love of my life 31. what are you listening to right now?: the sound of my aquarium filter 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom?: idk probably 33. something that is getting on your nerves: outdoor cats 34. most visited website: tumblr 35. mole(s)?: i have a few on my arms but they might be freckles I'm not clear on the difference. 36. mark(s)?: a scar on my chin from splitting it open twice, a scar on my left eyebrow from splitting it open, and a bunch of scars from my sister scratching me 37. childhood dream?: to be a vet! but ive decided to go into agriculture instead 38. hair color?: dirty blonde but rn its purple  39. long or short hair?: about halfway down my back 40. do you have a crush on anyone?: does being in love count lol 41. what do you like about yourself?: I'm good w animals 42. piercings?: i got my ears pierced but i let them close up 43. blood type?: i have no clue which is bad for someone who is really good at ending up in the hospital 44. nickname(s)?: asterisk 45. relationship status?: in love 46. zodiac?: aries 47. pronouns?: she/her 48. favorite tv show(s)?: cable girls, glow, the handmaid’s tale 49. tattoos?: none, but i have some planned. outlines of a fox and a lion on either forearm, eye of ra on my collarbone over my birthmark, and “due sekhmet” in hieroglyphics down my spine 50. right- or left-handed?: left-handed 51. ever had surgery?: uh... no i dont think so.  52. ever dyed your hair a different color?: constantly my dude 53. do you play sports?: I'm an equestrian if that counts 54. dream vacation?: I'm not big on vacations? just somewhere exceptionally beautiful with lots of nature and wildlife. I loved going to the Kehlstein in germany. 55. how many pairs of trainer do you own?: like one and I only use it when I go out for roadkill so I can get bones 56. are you eating right now?: no 57. are you drinking right now?: no  58. i’m about to: answer an ask about frogs that was sent to my pet blog 59. waiting for: my juvenile pets to get big !!  60. i want: to start fostering dogs again 61. will you get married?: if she wants to, yes. I'm picturing, middle of a national park, all the guests get the name of the park, a map, and survival tools. they have to find me and my wife in time for the ceremony. scenthounds encouraged but not required. 62. future career?: i want to run a farm!

RELATIONSHIPS: 63. hugs or kisses?: either but I'm a rly big fan of holding hands 64. lips or eyes?: eyes 65. shorter or taller?: i dont care about height 66. older or younger?: as long as they are nice, its legal, and we are on equal footing in the relationship and both comfortable... either.  67. nice arms or nice stomach?: can i say... nice face... the girl i like is v beautiful but her face is out of this world... 68. sensitive or loud?: people can be both ? 69. hook up or relationship?: i love love 70. troublemaker or hesitant?: not really either. someone who will adventure with me, after we make sure we have all the stuff we need to be safe

HAVE YOU EVER: 71. kissed a stranger?: no 72. drank hard liquor?: yes, vodka, whiskey, tequila, and rum. 73. lost your glasses/contact lenses?: nah i dont wear either 74. turned someone down?: yes 75. had sex on the first date?: ive never gone on a date 76. broken someone’s heart?: idk 77. had your heart broken?: nope, I'm in love and its going well  78. been arrested?: well they couldn't prove i did anything so no 79. cried when someone died?: i dont know  80. fallen for a friend?: hell yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 81. yourself?: sometimes 82. miracles?: i wouldnt call them miracles but sometimes deities might throw us a bone 83. love at first sight?: thats called infatuation. 84. santa claus?: nope 85. kiss on the first date?: kisses are nice, i enjoy kissing. but idk. i like to kiss friends and people i really love. 86. angels?: nope! not in my religion haha

OTHER: 87. current best friend’s name(s): I'm only naming people who won't see this. bradon and... nope everyone else has tumblr and will Know 88. eye color: like grey/green/blue depending on the lighting 89. favorite movie: hmm probably the martian

I tag: @aloeplantt @underyourcitylights @sleepyaches @finallyfilteringthrough @natalya--ilyinichna which is 5 because i keep forgetting people’s blogs and i dont Know people. if you’re reading this i tagged you.

[castlepinesmusic]

Chapter 1: Cassiopeia

Chapter 1: Cassiopeia

The Showcase Special was a red brick building complex on Main and 6th in Corona, California. A concrete and metal sprawl jungle built in the mid 70’s. The shopping center the Special stood in housed a variety of Mexican botana markets selling treats, chile mangoes, pinatas and fire crackers. The Showcase Special bordered its north brick wall with a Coin-Op laundromat, next to that was a Chinese apothecary and foot massage day spa called the Jade where a 1 hour full body massages cost 20$ plus tip. The Chamber of commerce for the city was not sure what do with the plot of land, originally opening up the building area for venturing entrepreneurs and white businessmen, the shopping center became a mishmash of Central American check cashing and call centers, Chinese herb medicine women, an alcoholics anonymous coffee center, tweakers, prostitutes, punk rockers and skaters. So the city officials slowly let the line out on the potential for an upper crust shopping center and let it become the community hub of poor immigrants and transients nesting a run down strip mall with what little comforts they could establish from their former countries.

“Eso es un ‘gang bang’”

Armando, one of the taquero cooks on the flat-top grill of ‘Taco Super’ explained to Carl, the handicapped kid that frequented the strip mall daily. Armando laughed and looked over the dirty sneeze guard separating the clientele from the sweating cooks.

“How many friends you want for ‘gang bang’? Aguas Carlitos?”

Armando chuckled as he looked at Carls face trying to make out the sexual situation he described in detail.

“That’s gross Armando! Ewwwwwww!” Carl was starting to picture all the naked and perspiring bodies hovering over a taco and doing nasty things to it.

“Este pinche Carlitos ni sabe tetas!” Ener Montez, the chubby Mexican handling the boiling pots in the corner said without looking up from his slow and steady stirring.

Carl slapped his hands onto his thighs and kept a slowly burning yowl,

“How could you do that? EwwWWWWWwwwWW!”

Carl grabbed the neck of his tamarind soda and walked out the back exit of the taco shop as Armando and Ener continued cackling. The fly shield above the backdoor was old and blew loudly without providing the protection from the pestilent insects hovering above the hot pans of beef maws and tongue and carnitas and roasted serrano chiles and Carl walked out to the dumpster area where Moony was rolling a cigarette in his right hand and clasping a paper-bag wrapped bottle of whiskey in the other.

The Special was split into two businesses, by day the front foyer below the marquee served as a soda stand and record store, peddling beat up demoes in brown paper bags recorded in hot garages by shitty local teenage bands. The marquee lit up at night, blue fringe lining the white marble incandescent panels with stock black lettering displaying the weekly touring bands coming through town. The second business was a nightly affair, an all ages music venue that had no prejudice on what kind of weird and violent teenage angst was going to be screamed through the sound system. They had to constantly book acts, and the only way to pay for the overhead was to let them all play. Crust punks, smelling of plastic bottle, bottom shelf vodka would sew black and white patches to the only pair of jeans they owned around 5 o’clock in the evening, always with a dirty styrofoam cup begging for loose coin. The pyscho-billy kids walked around dripping of pomade and indifference that they had not been alive in the Greaser scene of the early 60’s, cuffed denim pants and smoothly combed hair that crested in an oily pompadour high fiving the sky and American Jesus in the clouds. The goths hated god, yuppies and nice cars, and made sure their eye-liner and black t-shirts reflected this sentiment on the off chance that a chipper ass soccer mom with a tight ass and a stroller full of impressionable toddlers crossed their paths. All the different kinds of metal kids hated being labeled a sub-genre of Metal that they were clearly not fans of. The Black Metal kids hated being associated with the drunk assholes that came to thrash metal shows, and the death metal kids never really said shit but hated all of the tools in the shed the same.

The gutter punks were friendly, usually playing a beat up guitar with 2 out of tune strings for money in front of the 99 Cent store so they could get a one of the many colorful homeless folk to buy them a 40 oz of Mad Dog or King Cobra. The homeless had their own rites and rituals and hierarchy of law on who slept in which dumpster lot and who would go to Cupids on Tuesdays to buy a bag of 99 cent hamburgers for the group, and who would suck a dealers dick for some smack and who would share the drugs, and who would keep a look out for the cops when they were using at the park or in the loading area behind the Special. The Cholos and Crazy Vatos Locos wore tight, sweat stained wife beaters and sagging baggy khakis and they were constantly seeking wandering eyes from a punk or metal kid so they could take his wallet or her purse and beat their ass. They carried around rolls of quarters they usually stole from the coin-op, they would hold the roll of quarters in their fists when they jumped some one, it was like getting hit in the face with a plank of wood, and cops couldn't confiscate it because it wasn't a gun or a blade. Most of the gangster Mexicans were kids, trying so hard to be hard, between the ages of 9 and 19, the older vatos were the scarier ones, old school cholo gangsters that got shit-faced on the weekends at a homies house, making carne asada and “pistiando” with chelas. There was an unspoken truce between the Mexican gangsters, the homeless drug addicts, the punkers and scenester kids, a mutual understanding of each others lot in this lower class social strata of suffering for scraps, they were in an accordance with one another, they hated the cops and rich yuppies.

Then there was Jay, an employee of the The Special record store and Soda stand. Working almost everyday from 10 in the morning until 5 at night, donning faded band shirts, glasses and a smoldering quiet demeanor, Jay stocked records, tapes and price tagged products and ran a paper printed cash out at the end of every shift. The Armenian owner of the Special, Rendy Smith Sami, was a kind man and a good boss, employing Jay for over 5 years and providing the only all ages venue and record store within a 100 mile radius. Jay would open the record store everyday, 4 aisles of halogen lit shiny plastic and vinyl, and everyday at 5, the daily sales button was hit on the register and the machine would buzz and chirp for 20 seconds carbon printing the haul for the day. Jay would wrap the cash out receipt around a small stack of 20 dollar bills walk up the stairs to Rendy’s office and drop it in the cash box outside his locked door. Everyday for 5 years, Jay would do this routine, with the carnival of characters and action right outside the doors of the special. Watching kids driving in from Anaheim and Los Angeles for a show that night, Jay watched them vigilantly, making sure they didn’t steal a secondhand Rick Springfield “Jesse’s Girl” single or a Donald Duck Pez dispenser.

Rendy was in the record store today, in the office, doing his weekly sales on a tattered spreadsheet, it was 4:55 in the afternoon and Jay was wiping down the soda counter and pouring a coffee for later.

Rendy came down the stairs from his office into the main aisle of records, pensively looking at the wooden display stands and holding his chubby chin with one hand, a look of frowned pondering wriggled its way onto his bushy eyebrows like a frightened caterpillar.

“We sell more CD discs than tapes Jay?”

He spoke a little louder than usual because the Addicts record that Jay had put on was still droning away on the store speakers.

“Just the older used ones, no one likes those new CDs you put out there. Shit is lame.” Jay didn’t look up from the cash register.

Rendy still had a puzzled look on his face, staring directly at the new Petunia Cooke albums he bought from his distributor. Petunia was hot, young and what little clothes she wore on the front of her Cd cover left his testosterone saturated Armenian imagination reeling.

“You no like Petunia?” Rendy asked with his eyes still fixed on the display stand and the pretty blonde pop-star on the front cover.

“She is sexy as hell, but i would rather put my head in the trash compactor than listen to that bullshit. It probably sounds the same.” Jay quickly glanced at the Petunia display stand.

“Sounds same? She sounds same as what?” Rendy was still imagining slow dancing with Ms. Cooke on a hill in the Armenian village he grew up in, under a gentle moonlight, the aroma of roast goat permeating the cool night air.

“She sounds like some one put her head in the trash compactor!” Jay held back a smirk and a giggle.

“Oh she sound like she dying, like she in the compactor.” His pronunciation of compactor sounded more like protractor, “she go ahhhhhh ahhhhh ahhhhh” partly screaming in pretend pain and trying to hit the high falsetto Petunia sings on her hit single “Candle Shade Babe”.

There was a ring of the bell above the front entrance door and a woman with slicked, crunchy hair sauntered briskly to the front counter where Jay was standing. She placed her briefcase on top of the glass counter without any regard to its flimsy and shitty craftsmanship.

“Where is your brother?” she said as she looked down into a yellow steno pad, scribbling nonsensical scratch.

Jay pushed the cash drawer of the register in until it made a click and rang a bell.

“He is out back with Moony, I mean Ronny I think…”

The staunch businesswomen slowed her writing and leered over the brims of her glasses with here piercing pupils and stared condescendingly at Jay,

“He is out back? Jaimie I need you both in here, I need to talk to Carl and his closest living relative and that is you, his sister.”

Rendy knew when the social worker for Jay and her brother Carl was here and when she meant business so he slipped out the fly trap of the back door and went to find Moony and Carl.

Ronny Maine was a 50 year old homeless man trapped in a 70 year olds’ decrepit body, resembling a leather bound book with pages hanging out the sides and corners. The years of amateur title boxing in Scotland had caught up with his rattling bones and stretched his sinewy tendons into a gelatin mush of heavy breathing and hand rolled cigarette juice. Everyone called him Moony because his big, puffy cheeks would get red and full when he drank and he looked like a smiling full moon.

“It is a pretty day when you stop blaming things and people for who you are. Stretch your arm.” Moony shook his left shoulder from the base and jiggled like a dying fish, “Your right arm as far as it can go. Go ahead. Take your right arm and stretch it out. Ain’t got a right arm?

Use your left arm.

Ain’t got arms anymore?

Use your legs and your toes.

Ain’t got legs no more?

Use your nose, or your eyebrows or your goddam tongue.”

Moony wasn't looking at anything but the sky behind the dumpster.

“I know you got a right arm, I see it right there, your right arm is right there boy!”

Moony’s own right arm pointed down ecstatically at Carl’s right arm, buried and sheltered by his black sweater and hunched right shoulder. Moony’s eyes spoke as loudly as his slow rolling mouth,

“Take your arm and shove it out straight like this

and point your finger straight at anything you want.” Moony kept pointing and building a louder voice.

“It’s not their fault, it’s not your fault, its nobodies fault, stop trying to put that weight on someone else. That weight, that shame, that pain, that twitch and tick was always there my boy. And you gonna have it until the good Lord Jesus calls you home, and you might even have it still there up in heaven.”

Carl slowly slid both of his arms from his bottom and dragged them on the concrete. He wriggled his fingers and wiggled them like it was the first time he had seen his own hands. Carl and Moony stood there by the dumpster for the better half of 3 minutes.

Carl made a maddening fist and then slowly let it go.

The red and strained skin released as veins fed to the rest of his appendages and bled into an off white color of skin he could recognize as normal. Moon took a swig off the brown bag in hist left hand and wiped 3 beads of slowly creeping sweat from his left eye brow without winking or squinting.

Carl became vocal and interjected loudly,

“This is not me and I am not me or you Moony… I am me” Carl proclaimed as he watched his hands.

Moony smiled.

“That’s exactly what Paco said to Harvey when both him and Harvey landed on the planet of Mandoloids. Tired and angry at one another. Being a bunch of assholes.”

Moony looked off at the wispy heat of clouds rising into evaporated nothing.

“Harvey and Paco had been in that junk heap of a space ship for the better half of 7 months, floating around out there in the Cassiopeia constellation system. Lots of big bright super nova’s and swirling and quiet space dust and they were stuck in this greasy sail ship of the sky.”

A wiry and subtle smile started to take shape at the right side of Carls mouth, “They were flying out there? They were flying out there in outer space huh? Moon? They were making dinners in the spaceship?”

Moony smiled with the bottle in his mouth and spilled cheap, bottom shelf whiskey on his chest.

“Hell yeah they were making all kinds of food on that spaceship, thats why it was so greasy. The both of them were on a mission, but the space council made sure they could eat all the things they liked. Plenty of helpings of canned beans and sauce and freeze dried pork bits and crispy plantain chips and banana mush. They had onions and potatoes and Paco would cook one night and Harvey would take kitchen duties, they ate really well, probably better than they would eat here on earth.”

Carls smirking mouth changed from a half built smile to him licking his lips,

“They eatin’ bananas and fried pork?”

“Not just that, they had 9 barrels of flour and oil so they could make tortillas and breads and they were eating a finer way than any of the kings and presidents and emperors here.” Harvey finished the last 2 sips of his whiskey,

“They had to eat well on the count of them searching for the Mandoloids and the bomb they were making. Harvey needed at least 8 hours of sleep and Paco couldn’t disarm a thing if he wasn’t eating good, wholesome meals.”

Rendy was standing to the left corner of the dumpster that Moony was standing and listening with a dumb smirk.

“When NASA disbanded and they became the Solar Security Agency, they were trying to protect our little rock from all the riffraff and space trash trying to hurt us. They sent these hunks of steel out from every part of the globe with two men, one was the Captain and the other was a disarmer. The Captain was older, seen some shit. The disarmer was younger, usually a Mexican, Black or Chinese and they were there to help the captain and cook and when the time came, they were there to disarm the Mandaloid planet bombs. Harvey and Paco were sent to the Cassiopeia constellation to hit every planet orbitting a star. The Mandoloids were vultures up in the desert sky but they killed planets and life before any other living thing could get to it. That was the real Space Race, that was what they were doing, they were protecting our futures.”

Rendy had a drawn out smile of a fool. He slid past the corner of Moony and gently placed his hand on Carls shoulder. Moony gave one nod, walked behind the green, beat up dumpster and Carl followed Rendy inside.