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billthedrake · 2 months ago

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LINEAGE (PART NINE)

The alarm went off early. Way early. It was our weekday routine now. The twins were sleeping in, and the pre-sunrise hours were the only time Braden felt he could get a workout in. And I had shifted my work hours to get in the office early so I could pick Ev and Keith up from school. Junior had offered to help now that he was driving and sometimes I asked him to drive his little brothers around, but he had golf practice 3 or 4 days out of 5 after school.

"MMmmff," I moaned, stretching out in bed, not willing to open my eyes just yet. I felt Braden's warm body snuggle against mine. He was about to turn 40, and as he neared that milestone, his muscle seemed fuller somehow, bulkier.

"I gave us an extra fifteen minutes, Dad," he croaked in his morning voice. "You wanna...?" Already his fingers were wrapped around my morning wood. It had taken a while for me to get comfortable with sleeping naked. When Junior, Evan, and Keith were younger, Brade and I would worry about them barging in. But we'd taught them to respect our privacy, and now we had the freedom to sleep naked, even if we weren't having sex.

My mouth sought his. I loved kissing Brade, always had, but truth be told, I was having some guilt now that things had started up with Junior. It had only been a couple of weeks since I'd crossed that line with our eldest. It was hard not to dive right into something intense, and I knew Junior wanted to. But we needed to take our time, and I needed to know how this new dynamic fit with my marriage to Junior's daddy.

I now took the initiative of rolling Braden over. Dad on top. I kissed along his neck and pinned his hands back to the pillow. I made my way to his arm pits and kissed his strong pecs.

Braden knew what my target was. A puffy nipple sticking out of his chest fur. My son was still breastfeeding the twins, but not nearly as much now that they were also eating baby food. More milk for me.

My suckling technique was well honed and I could taste the sweet man milk.

"Oh fuck, Dad," Braden hissed, caressing my head. It was perverted as fuck, but we both got off on this. Maybe because it was a sign of the way Braden's ex-Marine body had completely transformed in childbearing. And how it was gonna transform once more the next time I knocked him up.

I was fully fuck-hard now. I leaned up and kicked apart his legs, then reached over to turn on the lamp to to pump out some lube into my palm.

"How fertile are you, Son?" I asked, slicking up. I loved the vision of Braden's masculine nakedness beneath me. Hard muscle, solid, spreading his legs and pulling them back for me.

"I'm not yet 40, Dad... when the time's right you're gonna impregnate me again."

"Damn," I hissed. "Give you another brother."

"Make yourself another boyfriend," Braden hissed. He reached over for some lube to finger into his hole. It was a sign I could go a little harder this morning. My son was in heat.

"Damnit, Brade," I said. We'd talked about the implications of me and Junior, and Brade was encouraging. But somehow, over two weeks, we hadn't talked about it sexually, at least not like this.

He was getting turned on by the idea, thoough. "Who knows how many of our sons you'll sleep with."

I nudged my cock into place. Trying not to go there.

But Braden knew I was turned on, too. "You like the idea, don't you, Dad?"

"God, yes, Son." I pushed in. "You know I do."

Brade was wrapping his legs around me, pulling my body toward his. This was a nice mix of a Brade fuck and a Bill fuck. My hard cock plunging in deep and roughly while we embraced missionary.

It was like Braden could read my mind. "This is the position Junior was conceived in," he said. Holding my back as I hard dicked him.

"You, too, son," I hissed.

"Oh fuck, Dad." Braden LOVED that idea. "Seventh time the charm?"

"You got it. Sport. Grow that litter we got going."

"Sprawling Drake family..." my son grunted. "Incest DNA."

"I'd love for Junior to watch us. To watch us make him another brother."

"His nephew."

"Fuck yes." I was getting real into the sex. This was turning into a hotter session than I expected on a Tuesday morning. Then the idea came bubbling up from the repressed part of my mind. "Would you like Junior fuck you, Brade?" I asked, a hard edge to my voice.

But my son was right there with me. "In a heartbeat, Dad."

I was cumming, maybe more loudly than I normally did.

"Fill me up, Dad. Knock me up." Braden was entering his own cum, the semen shooting between our writhing bodies.

We uncoupled and took a second to catch our breath, lying side by side before Braden turned to me, sweat weighing down his bed head hair. "Was that just sex talk, Dad?"

I shook my head. "Not on my end, it wasn't. If you're up for it, Son.... if Junior is up for it."

Braden looked at me with clear excitement, but was circumspect in his reply. "I know you two have your own bond, Dad. I don't wanna intrude on that."

"You ever think he feels the same way about us?" I asked.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

I patted Braden's thigh and looked over at the clock. "I should get ready for work, Son."

"Yeah," my son said. He was enjoying the recovery rest from the sex. A part of me wondered if he was ovulating now, if my swimmers were finding their way...

I was chubbed showering, but I didn't take my time. I shaved and got dressed in a matter of a few minutes. And as I picked out a tie and slipped on my dress shoes, Braden took his turn to shower off.

The house was quiet when I made my way to the kitchen, but Junior was there, wearing workout clothes. He'd begun to join Brade for an intense pre-school lifting session. He had his cup of coffee and when he saw me appear, he went over to pour me a cup.

"Morning, Dad," he whispered.

"Morning, kiddo," I said. "You don't have to do that for me."

Junior smiled. He was a normal 18-year-old in so many ways, but was also clearly majorly infatuated. It was an adorable combination. "I like doing it for you... I know you don't have a lot of time in the morning."

I smiled and stepped up. Junior was surprised by the kiss, but he eagerly turned toward me and opened his mouth for my soft tongue.

"Thank you," I said. It was about more than the coffee.

"Um..." my son said. "You want me to take care of you, before work?"

I shook my head. "Your daddy did a pretty good job of that already."

"Oh," Junior replied. Clearly disappointed.

"You can't be jealous, kiddo. OK?" This was me as authority figure but also in understanding boyfriend mode. Like I'd been with Braden when we first started.

"I know, Dad," Junior said.

"We'll have a date night soon, how bout that?"

Junior nodded eagerly, a huge smile on his face. "You must think I'm ridiculous," he laughed with some embarrassment.

"Hardly, stud..." God, this young man was so hard to say no to. "Listen... why don't I take care of you, this morning?" I knew Ev and Keith would sleep in, and the twins were sounds asleep.

Junior nodded, grateful and horny.

I crouched down, right there in the kitchen, and tugged down Junior's shorts. Braden had given him a new pair of Marines-logo PT shorts and Junior was wearing them around the house nonstop lately. I saw a jock strap and looked up to grin.

"Something new?" I asked quietly.

Junior smiled, still embarrassed. "I saw that Daddy wears a strap beneath his shorts when he works out."

I chuckled and hooked my thumb into the waistband. As I peeled the jock down, I saw Junior's big shaft plop up into a standing position. Seven-and-some inches of hard Drake cock.

I wanted to take my time. And I wanted to go verbal. But neither was gonna happen that morning. So I wetted my lips and ran my hands up Junior's firm quad muscle before leaning in.

"Oh shit, Dad," Junior gasped.

I wasn't a great cocksucker, but to Junior it was like I was the best imaginable. His own dad going down on him. Right there in the kitchen, before work, before school. A down payment for much more to come between us. I worked more and more son dick into my mouth and into my throat. My hand caressing his nut sac while I blew him.

Junior cradled my skull, affectionately and respectfully as I worked a healthy teen load from his balls. If my sucking skill wasn't the best, I had the swallowing part down. I gave my son's dick a soft kiss when I finally pulled off.

Slowly, Junior recovered from his orgasm and pulled up his jockstrap and shorts.

"Sure I can't do you, Dad?" he asked. He could see the ridge of dad dick in my suit trousers.

"We'll take a rain check, kiddo... how bout that?"

"Perfect."

We kissed again, softly, until I finally got some willpower to get on with my morning.

"I'm late," I whispered into his lips.

"All right, get going, old man," he teased. He pulled back and reached up into the cabinet for a travel mug. I took it from him and poured my cup into it.

"There's something I want to discuss with you later, Junior," I said.

He could tell from my tone that it wasn't anything bad or too serious, but his curiosity was piqued. "What is it, Dad?"

"Later... but come see me when you get back from practice, OK?"

"Will do, Dad."

At that moment, Braden walked in, in his own workout clothes. "Ready, Bill?" he asked Junior.

"Yeah, Daddy," he said, taking one more sip of his coffee to hide the guilty expression he had. We'd have to talk about that later, clear the air.

"I'm off," I told my husband and gave him a soft peck of a kiss. Then I lingered, going a little deeper in the goodbye kiss. I wasn't trying to make Junior jealous, but he needed to know I loved his father, too.

****

I was still getting used to the mansion. I wasn't sure how much more we'd grow our family. Braden and I talked about how we still wanted more kids, but we'd see if he felt like that as he got into his 40s. For now, we had a lot of extra room. Brade had his own man cave that doubled as a nursing area - with a big-screen TV, football memorabilia, leather chairs and a foosball table. Junior had a second master bedroom with his own giant bathroom and hottub. I had my own private study that was my home office and just a place that I enjoyed spending an hour alone from time to time. It wasn't like the boys were forbidden from coming in, but they rarely did. It was my space.

I was there doing some take-home work at my laptop, when I saw Junior step into the doorway. He'd just come back from after school golf practice and was still in his golf attire, from the ball cap to the white golf shoes.

"Is now a good time, Dad?" he asked. I could sense a deference in his voice, but also an eagerness. He'd been thinking all day, I knew, about what had gone on that morning and the fact I'd asked for a serious talk.

"Yep, Junior, shut the door," I said, shutting my lap top and moving over to the couch.

Junior had a shy grin as he joined me there.

"Good day?" I asked.

"Yeah, Dad," he said, spreading his legs some, as his knee jittered nervously.

"I wanted to check in with you. About us."

"I figured," he said.

I reached over and ran my hand along Junior's neck. I loved that I could be affectionate with him like this now, and I loved seeing how much he loved it. A smile broke out on his cute face.

"That feels nice," he said.

"You boning up, son?" I asked in a deep, soft voice.

He nodded, brown eyes meeting mine. "Oh yeah."

I caressed his neck with my fingers, letting him feel that gentle body contact. "You know... incest is about what we do with our cocks," I said, maybe getting too much into Dad lecture mode, "but it's more than that." I reached down and adjusted my own hardon, feeling trapped in my casual sweats I'd put on after work. "Your daddy is my husband and love of my life and whatever we have has got to fit into that."

I saw so much love in Junior's face just then. "Oh God, Dad, I'd never do anything you and Daddy," he said with his own deepening voice. It was hard not to realize how quickly Junior had grown up, and to realize that soon he'd be off to college. "I know... maybe sometimes it seems like I'm greedy when it comes to you."

"You're 18 and horny," I said. "That's natural."

"Yes, sir," Junior laughed. "Also.. you're my first real crush."

I took of his cap, running my fingers to push his short bangs back in place. Then I leaned in for a soft kiss.

I could tell Junior was having a REAL hard time approaching that kiss slow. I was, too, to be honest. But this was better, taking our time and feeling out the emotion of the moment. I finally pulled back and pressed my forehead against his. "I'm crushed out on you too, buddy."

"Fuck!" Junior hissed.

I continued to massage his neck with my hand and moved a little to squeeze his trap muscle. I thought about what Todd Fiedler had said to me, about his own evolving family dynamic. "If you can handle me fully committed to your Daddy, I'd love for us to be boyfriends. Try that out."

"Damnit Dad... you don't know how much I want that," he said. Junior's self restraint was fading and he reached down to grip my hard crotch. I didn't stop him. "Tell me what I need to do to make that happen."

I'd been giving it some thought. "Date night, you and me, once a week. The other nights are reserved for your Daddy." I paused. "Unless you want to join us some time."

That got an excited reaction from the young stud. "You guys would be open to that?"

I nodded. "If that appeals to you," I said.

"Daddy's a hot stud, Dad. The idea of you two at the same time.... Fuck!"

"You can't let your brothers know," I cautioned. "When the time's right, I'll tell them about you and me."

Junior had a huge smile at that. "Can I be there when you do, Dad?"

"I suppose so," I replied, not sure what he was getting at.

"You're going to think I'm silly.. but I want to learn how to be a dad. I've been watching you and Daddy, trying to learn from you."

"Kiddo, that's the most amazing thing you've ever told me," I breathed. I was horny as fuck, but also paternal proud. "I've noticed you've been reading up on parenthood."

Junior nodded, embarrassed as much as he was proud. "I know it's years away, but I'd like to have kids like you and Daddy."

"Follow in your Dad's footsteps, huh?"

"Pretty much," Junior blushed.

I patted his leg. I wanted to have sex with Junior in the worst way right then, but it was getting close to dinner time. "Dinner's about ready, but I'm glad we had this conversation, Junior."

"Me, too, Dad. Fuck!"

"Another kiss before we go join the family?"

Our kiss wasn't nearly as soft this time.

***

After dinner, Junior took his brothers out to toss the football. Brade looked after the twins. And I cleaned up and did the dishes. Out the window, I could see the Fiedler house, another mansion with another incest family. Together our families were forging our dream, creating the lives that we wanted, that felt right to us. Dating Junior was a big step, a huge step. I still wasn't sure I could juggle the emotional commitments with the role of fatherhood for two generations. But I know I'd try.

I was getting hard, rock hard. Hanging up the dish towel I went to family den, where Brade and twins were.

"How'd it go?" my son asked, looking up.

"Really f-in well," I said. Even if the twins were just 2, I was making an effort not to curse around them. Kids pick up everything like a sponge. "You up for inviting him to our room tonight?"

I could sense the excitement in Braden's eyes. "You gotta ask, Dad?"

"Yeah," I said. "You're my husband, Son. I gotta ask."

"The answer is yes," my eldest said. "I'll follow your lead. Whatever you guys are comfortable with."

I nodded. Jesus my dick wasn't gonna go down anytime soon. I nodded to the backyard. "It's getting dark... they'll be in soon."

Braden nodded. The parental duties were reasserting themselves. "Can you put the twins to bed tonight? I'll look after Ev and Keith."

"Sure," I said, getting down on the floor to play with Andrew and Brady, while Braden got up.

"Oh, and you free Saturday after golf? Pop Warner seasons starts."

"I'll be there."

I heard the door open even from the other side of the house and the rambunctious sounds of 12 and 13 year olds running through the house. A minute later, Junior appeared. "Need help, Dad?"

"I'm good, kiddo," I said. "You can get to your homework." I really wasn't trying to lecture, Junior, after all he was a good student, but I knew he hadn't had time to do his schoolwork yet.

"Aye aye," he gave a mock salute. "You always get on Daddy's case about homework when he was my age?" he teased.

I looked up and smiled. "All the time. It didn't work."

That made Junior laugh.

He was about to leave when I stopped him. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I said. "Kiddo... what do you think of coming to our room tonight? When your brothers are asleep?"

That got a huge smile. Junior wasn't expecting that so soon. "Fu-... I mean..." he caught himself. "That'd be incredible, Dad." Then getting a playful grin, he added. "Is this an incentive for me to do my homework."

I love that Junior and I shared a sense of humor, our own in-jokes. "Something like that, buddy. Maybe, around 10:30? No need to knock, just be discreet, OK?"

"You got it, Dad."

***

Brade and I were able to enjoy about a half hour of naked making out and foreplay. I told him about the conversation I had with Junior, about being boyfriends with my second son and about how we'd balance that with the primal father-son marriage I had with Braden.

"I'm leaking so much, Dad." Indeed, his precum smeared our bellies as we embraced.

"He's gonna see something special, Brade," I said, running my hands along his muscular arms and feeling his hard prick against my own.

"Me, too," Braden said. "I've not yet seen him naked."

"He's grown into a fucking stud," I said.

"Hot fucking golf jock," Braden growled.

"Damn, buddy... we're gonna fuck around with our own son."

"Your boyfriend."

Braden and I kissed.

As we were getting into the make out session, the door opened. Junior stepped in quietly, He had his golf shorts on, but nothing else. Even from feet away, I could fell our son was rock hard and leaking.

"Damn," he whispered. Then stepping in, he added, "You OK with this, Daddy."

Braden grinned. "You have no idea, Bill," he replied. Scooting over to the side of the bed he patted the spot between him and me. "Come join us."

His eyes were on our nakedness, me rock hard and my dad dick sticking straight up, and Braden in a similar start of sexual excitement. Junior started undoing his shorts, then stopped, almost asking for permission before I interjected, "Lose the shorts, kiddo. Let Daddy see all of you."

Junior grinned, excitement gaining the upper hand over nervousness. He let his shorts fall and then stepped out of them.

"Goddamn, that's a beautiful dick," Brade said.

Junior's chest puffed out with pride as he walked over to the side where Braden was. He let my husband see his teen hardon jutting out while his hand felt up Braden's muscular quad muscle. "It is OK if I touch him, Dad?" he asked, looking up at me.

"You don't gotta ask, buddy... we're here to explore each other tonight, OK?"

Junior's voice croaked in lust. "Yeah, OK."

He climbed into bed, making his way over Braden's muscle body to wedge his own from between us. Junior was shaking a little next to me as he looked between me and Brade.

"You OK with this, son?" I asked, patting his leg.

"More than OK, Dad. Just turned on as fuck. That's all."

Braden laughed and turned toward us, his prick nudging Junior's bare thigh. "It's like me the first times I fooled around with Dad." Brade's hand was on Junior's abs now, moving up to feel his meaty chest.

I watched them kiss. God, it was so hot, seeing that incest as a witness and not just a participant. Especially watching how Junior got into it. Feeling up his daddy and roving his hand around until it wrapped around Brade's cock.

I kissed along Junior's neck and shoulder, and after a few seconds he turned to kiss me as well. Right on the mouth, right in front of my other son.

Already Braden was scooting down the bed. I had a sense of where he was going, and indeed as I kissed Junior deep I felt him grunt into my mouth.

"How's that feel, kiddo?" I asked as I pulled away. I didn't need to look down to know that Brade was sucking Junior's big piece.

"Holy shit, Dad. You didn't tell me he was this good."

I heard Braden come up and spit out the cock, giving a soft laugh. "Dad likes to keep things to himself sometimes."

Junior gave a dumb nod, turned on, horny as fuck. Especially as he watched Brade move over to swallow me to the hilt.

"Dad, that's fucking beautiful."

"Incest," I said directly. The word itself made Junior's cock twitch noticeably. "You wired for it, too, buddy? Like me and your daddy are?"

"You have no idea, sir."

I kissed Junior. This was so amazing. Me and Junior and Brade forging this threeway sexual bond. Emotionally, there was me and Brade, and me and Junior. And of course Braden was Junior's parent. But here, we was showing Junior how hot incest could be, verbalized and acknowledged.

"I wanna help Daddy out," Junior finally said.

"Go for it, kiddo."

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. My two oldest sons were tag team sucking me. Swapping off, doing a little tandem licking, and attacking my nuts with their tongues while the other sucked. Pretty soon, I could notice Braden was actively coaching Bill Jr in how to suck cock. How to suck my cock.

"That dick made you, Bill, show it some respect," he'd breath. Then nudging Junior off, he said, "Like this..." and swallow me deep. "Wanna give it a try?"

They passed my dick back and forth about five times, before it was too much. As Junior started really getting the swing of sucking me, I blasted hard. He moaned and with equal excitement pulled off to offer half of my ejaculation to Braden. The two slurped my cum then shared it in a kiss.

"Damn..." I hissed. I was rock hard and yet completely drained. I hadn't been this turned on in ages.

"Lie back, Bill," Braden said, and I watched Junior rejoin the spot next to me. I winked at him and he smiled back. The jitters were completely gone. Junior was enjoying the hell out of his first incest threesome.

I looked down to see Braden get into place between Junior's long spread legs. He was still not very hairy, but pretty soon the short leg hair would grow in more and his legs would look furrier.

For now, Braden seemed to take his time feeling up Junior's young muscle and nuzzling the most smooth ball sac.

"Fuck, Daddy!" Junior let out before checking his volume. "That feels so fucking good."

"You want your Daddy to suck you off?" I hissed, running my hands on Junior's strong chest.

"I want that incest blowjob," Junior said. He was a fast learner when it came to the kind of sex talk Braden and I enjoyed regularly.

"A father's mouth on son's cock," I said.

"He's my brother, too," Junior added.

That did it for Braden. My husband couldn't hold off going back down on Junior. Not teasing or taking his time, Brade was giving a full speed suck job.

Junior's toes were curling and his body tensing as he looked to me, pleasure and need in his face.

I kissed my new son-boyfriend hard. As Junior and I made out, he orgasmed. If I felt any jealousy, it was merely that my husband was able to get Junior off orally so much better than I could.

"Let me do you, Brade..." I started to say, only as he leaned up, I saw a string of cum dripping from the tip of his prick.

"Sorry, Dad, I couldn't hold off," Braden replied. He plopped down next to Junior, face flushed and still in sexual overstimulation.

I could sense Junior laugh. "That was SO hot, Dad... everything."

I patted Junior's firm abs. "If you can slip out first thing in the morning, kiddo, you're welcome to sleep in here."

Junior looked over at Braden for confirmation, who nodded. "I'm probably not gonna get any damn sleep, but yeah..."

We made out some, pairing in different combinations. Doing a threeway kiss wasn't practical but we tried that anyway.

Finally it was time for bed. Braden cleaned up and brushed his teeth, then it was Junior's turn. I heard Braden explain where towels things were, since we were all settling into the new house.

My eldest son had a huge grin when he came out naked, that uncut dick finally soft. "That was more incredible than I even dreamed, Dad," he said.

I slid out of bed and gave Brade a soft kiss. "I'll say. I'm glad you're OK with this."

He nodded. "I'm not gonna angle in on your thing with Bill," he said quietly. "He needs his own bond with you. I don't want to take that from him."

"You gave him a pretty special gift tonight, son. You gave both of us a special gift."

Braden shrugged. He saw this as just normal. "There's plenty of more of that, I guess, if it plays out that way."

"Plays out what way?" Junior asked as he stepped out. His dick was nearly a match of mine, only uncut like Braden's. He looked like a young god just then.

I placed my arm over Braden's shoulder. "Your Daddy and I were just saying how well this went."

Junior smiled. I watched his dick fill out and with a few jerks stand up to full teen erection. "Sorry, Dads," he said. "Can't help."

"Don't need to be sorry for an incest hardon," Braden said. "Your Dad and I get them all the time."

I would have gotten one, too, but I was completely drained just then. Besides, I'd had sex first thing that morning, and twice in a day was pushing it for my normal 56-year-old sexual response. I watched Brade and Junior climb into bed, snuggling up to one another. I'd join them after got ready for bed myself. I took a piss and washed off my genitals with a washcloth.

I pulled out my toothpaste and as I went to reach for my toothbrush, I saw not two but three brushes in the holder.

Now, my dick expanded and began getting hard.

#drakestories

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kjhmyg · 10 months ago

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rough edges pt. 18 pairing: jungkook | reader genre: college!au, fluff, slight angst word count: 16k warnings: mentions of death, drugs, executions, drinking, anxiety, weapons.

summary: when you uncover your boyfriend's private life, a deep dive into it sucks you in as you try to help save him from himself.

a/n: one more chapter and one epiloque, and it's goodbye :( anw if u can guess my fave anime character i'll post the next part this weekend maybe

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 6.5 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / part 18 / masterlist

RE asks tag / pinterest board

Hundreds Arrested in Biggest Drug Raid of The Decade

Big Time Underground Crime Boss Taken Down

Uncovered: An imminent underground trafficking ring busted by Department of Justice

Joint Efforts of the Police Department & DEA sees an end to Infamous Drug Lord’s Operations

⎼

“Y/n.”

A familiar presence wraps around you like a warm blanket, feeling strangely at ease every time you hear that gentle whisper of your name. Every time it calls out to you, you feel yourself inching closer to the surface of reality.

At times when it goes quiet, you feel yourself regressing back into your cocoon and wait in silence, hoping for its return. Soft murmurs begin to dance around you, and you shake your head to shoo them away in protest, covering your ears every time they get louder, which happens every time the voice disappears.

Arms wrapped around your legs, and head between your knees, you wait for it to come back. It feels like hours have gone by and you almost give up, until you feel something touching you, for the first time in a long while.

Cautiously lifting your head, your eyes land on the familiar hand resting atop yours. His gorgeous eyes lure you out of the darkness and soon your hand is in his, embracing the warmth it provides.

Jungkook helps you to your feet, and in a fraction of a second, you’re walking down the footpath of a park he used to take you in the middle of the night for a quick date. Arms swinging in between, you can’t help but to sneak glances every now and then, as if to make sure he’s still there.

When you reach your usual spot, atop a hill with a wide view of the park and the open sky above, Jungkook grabs both your hands. He’s looking down at you, eyes roaming over your face before landing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I love you, Jungkook.” You whisper, hands on the sides of his face. He only smiles in response, and you wish he would let you hear his voice again.

His attention suddenly turns to the bright moon above, as if it were bothering him. Following his gaze, you notice how unusually bright it seems to be. You’ve spent many nights here, lying on the grass, staring up at the sky. You can tell something’s not right.

The glow emanating from the orb gets brighter, forcing you to turn away.

“Jungkook?”

When you look back, he’s gone, hand no longer in yours and nowhere to be found. The shine from above continues to blind you. You hold your arm up to shield yourself from the glare.

Somewhere in the distance, the murmuring starts once again, coming towards you from all sides. This time getting progressively louder. It’s a mixture of drowned out voices and screaming, and suddenly you can’t breathe.

You shut your eyes to make it stop, only to feel yourself choking, struggling to breathe. When you open your eyes, the memory you tried hard to suppress comes back to haunt you, manifesting itself.

Hongjun’s arm is around your neck, with a gun pointed to your head. A bunch of faceless officers stand before you, some in position to shoot. Then you hear him. Jungkook.

He’s running towards you at full speed, shouting something you can’t hear, hearing drowned out by a buzzing sound.

Everything moves in slow motion, and your vision starts to blur. As you fight to keep your balance while struggling to breathe, you see Hongjun’s arm move in one swift motion, aiming for Jungkook. The last thing you see are his wide eyes, before a loud bang rings in your ear and you’re falling again.

A sharp gasp tears from your lips, “Jungkook!” your blurt out as you suck in a breath of air, jolting upright, feeling as though you just surfaced from being underwater. Your heart booms in your chest and your eyes squint at the sudden brightness. The beeping sound somewhere near you keeps you on edge.

“Hey you’re okay,” a voice comes up to you, a comforting hand on your back, “you’re okay my love. I’m here.”

You look up at the worried face of your father, hovering over you with worried eyes. You will yourself to take deep breaths, trying to stay grounded. “I can’t breathe.”

“I’m gonna go get the doctor.” Hana says quickly, running out the room.

Within the next minute, you’re surrounded by nurses, feeling the comforting grip of your dad slipping away. It all happens way too quickly, and eventually the darkness takes over once again, as your eyelids fall shut.

⎼

It was different this time, the darkness was short-lived, and felt more like an afternoon nap. You open your eyes to the same bright room, the sounds of newspapers flipping to your left. Though still feeling sore, you slowly turn to where your dad rests with one leg over another, glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose.

The front page of the paper catches your eye; NOTORIOUS DRUG LORD TAKEN DOWN splashes across the top half of the paper, in bold. As he moves to flip the page, he notices you’re awake.

“Hi,” your voice comes out hoarse.

“Well hello.” He sets the paper aside and gives you his full attention. Warm hands stroke the top of your head, thumb slowly caressing your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

The question brings about a surge of emotions from your chest, heaving as you fight back a huge sob. Tears fall down your face anyways, and a machine behind you starts beeping, startling you. Your dad hushes you, wiping away the stray tears. “Where’s Jungk⎼”

“Good afternoon.” A nurse comes in to check your vitals, interrupting your question. “Oh perfect, you’re awake!” She frees you from some of the wires and the beeping finally stops. As she checks things off the clipboard, you see the door behind her swing open gently and Hana’s face emerges.

“You’re up!” She beams, almost dropping the box of pastries in her arms.

The nurse smiles. “Everything looks good, miss. I’ll put in an order for a meal; no solid foods yet.” She points to the pastries with the back of her pen, “You haven’t eaten in three days, so we’ll start with porridge. The doctor will come around in the evening to do a full checkup.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Your dad says.

Hana sets her stuff down before going over to give you a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I was out for three days?” You ask, realising it was much longer than it felt like. You don’t even know what day it is.

“Yeah,” she says, “we were worried but the doctor said they didn’t find anything unusual. Your body probably shut down from the shock of it all.”

You play with the blanket covering your bottom half. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Your dad’s hand wraps around yours again. “All that matters is that you’re safe now.” The stress of the last couple of days is evident by the bags under his eyes.

With a deep sigh, you look at yourself, bruises and marks over your arm on the side where you fell, a scrape on the side of your cheek, and a bandage around your head. It throbs still.

“You had a concussion,” Hana reads the look on your face, “do you remember what happened?”

You wish you could forget. Blinking away the urge to cry, you nod.

“Hongjun…”

She doesn’t urge you to continue, instead places a firm hand over yours. “It’s okay.”

Many questions swim through your dad’s mind, you can see it in his eyes. “You knew him,” he says, more as a realisation than a question. Despite the disapproval of his features, he pushes your hair back affectionately, “I figured you were just at the wrong place, wrong time but if you knew him all along… what did you get yourself into?”

“I⎼” Words fail you, how could you tell him everything that’s unfolded in the last couple of months? He doesn’t even know you were kidnapped, you dread how he’d react once he finds out. “It’s⎼ it’s a long story…”

He heaves out a long sigh, trying to make sense of it all. How could his daughter be involved in the biggest criminal raid of the decade?

At the mention of your involvement, your mind springs back to the only thing you really can think of right now. Evidently, not the right time to be asking this, but there’s nothing more than you need right now than to know if he’s safe.

“A-any news on Jungkook?” You direct your question to Hana, who momentarily avoids your stare. “Hana? What happened? Is he okay? I need to go see him⎼”

The two of them try to stop you as you move to get off the bed. Legs already dangling off the side, Hana grabs hold of your arm. “He’s not here.”

You search her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“He’s not… well we don’t know what happened to him.”

A wave of panic washes over you and you can’t ignore the way your heart is bursting out of your chest. Your dad guides you back to your bed, willing you to calm down and you try. The throbbing in your head gets worse with every move, and you can barely keep your eyes open or stand the bright lights.

You need to find Jungkook. But your body won’t let you. So you shut your eyes to find him again in your dreams.

Hours later, you wake up to only Hana present, smiling when you start to stir.

As you sit up, she places a pillow on your lower back. Then brings a cup of water to your lips, urging you to drink up. You hear gentle knocks on the door before it slowly opens and a familiar face enters. He beams at the sight of you, though you don’t reciprocate.

Hana greets him with a nod and Hoseok takes the seat on the empty side of your bed. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” You mutter, eyes dropping to the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

He hands them to you awkwardly, almost blushing because now Hana’s smirking at him from the other side. “Hana told me you were finally up. I wanted to come see you.”

“Thanks Hoseok,” you muster up a smile looking at the bouquet, “they’re pretty.”

You almost miss the way the two of them share an odd look, as if speaking telepathically. When Hana notices you staring, it stops. “Let me help you with that.” She says, relieving you of the flowers.

An awkward silence fills the room while Hana finds a place for the bouquet on the table. Meanwhile, Hoseok hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“Hoseok?” He straightens up at the sound of his name.

“Yeah?” He answers when you take too long to start.

“Have you heard any news about Jungkook?” You feel sorry for asking, especially after his features drop. But surely he’d know something. He should, Namjoon would’ve told him. “Please tell me. I need to know if he’s okay.”

“That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about,” he says and you realise now that was what was going on with two of them. “Hana and I asked around for him the night you were admitted, but we couldn’t get anything out of anyone. We have no idea what happened to him, or where he is.”

“What about Namjoon? Have you asked him?”

“I haven’t been able to contact him since that night.” Hoseok admits. “We met briefly while he was getting treated. He said he’d call to give me an update but…nothing.”

“It’s a big case,” Hana chips in, “he’s probably working overtime to settle everything before⎼”

“I don’t care about the case,” you say curtly, “I just want to know if my boyfriend is alright. The last thing I saw was Hongjun shooting in his direction, I have to know if he’s dead or alive!”

“Y/N,” Hana squeezes your hand when your breathing gets erratic, “it’s not like we’re hiding anything from you.”

“We want to find him too. I double checked with the nurses the morning after,” Hoseok says, “but they said there’s no such patient.”

“He couldn’t have just disappeared.”

“Maybe he did.” Hana says, “it’s not impossible right? If he’s caught, it’s bad, right?”

She has a point. You consider the possibility that he could’ve ran off when he got the chance. Staying would mean he’d be under police custody.

You stare at the blanket in front of you. “You’re right. Maybe he did run off…”

The tension in the room disperses slightly, Hoseok’s shoulders drop as you speak and Hana takes a seat.

“Sorry everyone,” you’re embarrassed at the way you snapped earlier, “I’m just really worried. I swear I thought he…”

“You went through a lot…we understand.” Hoseok says.

The rest of the evening floats by, despite their efforts to distract you from worrying, you can’t seem to shake off the feeling in your chest. Hoseok’s laughter fills the room as they carry the conversation, and you smile every now and then, feigning interest.

⎼

Perhaps it’s the complete silence in your room that was driving you nuts, or the fact that you’d been asleep for three days prior, you just can’t seem to doze off. You’d requested everyone to take the night off, including your dad, knowing they’d spent the last few nights with you.

Turning on your side, you spot a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a chocolate bar snuck in between the stalks. A little note is taped to it.

I heard chocolates are good for the brain. heh. - Mia

p.s I’m three doors down

The dimly lit hallway stretches all the way to the other end. Sitting on one of the empty seats along the hall, a security officer gives you a once over, surprised to see you up. The only other people around are two nurses at the station, busy with work and yet to notice you. Quietly, you tiptoe down the hall.

“Ma’am, aren’t you supposed to stay in bed?” The officer stands in your way, glancing at the fall risk tag around your wrist.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You smile sheepishly, and put a finger to your lips. “Are you…guarding someone?”

He shakes his head, “It’s just protocol. Most of the patients on this floor were admitted the same night. Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh.”

“I really think you should get back inside.”

“I just want to stretch my legs.” You say, “Please. I’ve been in bed for days…”

Despite his initial hesitation, he nods and lets out a sigh. “Fine. But don’t look at me if the nurses come for you.”

You give him an okay. If the patients in this hallway were there that night, could Jungkook be one of them? With a hint of hope, you walk past the rooms, scanning the names of the patients on the doors.

You come to a stop three doors down. Amelia Han. Is this Mia? You gently push the handle down and the door open, trying not to make a sound. As the door clicks behind you, nerves settle in your tummy, and you see the bottom half of the bed, the rest of it covered by the curtain.

Peeking around the half-drawn fabric, you feel a sudden overwhelming sense of heartache and guilt.

“Mia,” you whisper.

She turns at the sound of your voice. With as much energy as she can muster up, she pushes herself up to greet you with her warm smile. “Y/N.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” you run into her, and your arms wrap around each other, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you out of there. How are you?”

“Stop, it’s not your fault,” she chuckles, “I’m happy to see you too. I’m better now.”

“That’s good.” Your eyes drift to the bandage on the side of the head, almost matching yours. “What did the doctor say?”

“Concussion,” she shrugs, “and smoke inhalation apparently.”

“Oh right,” you cringe, getting flashbacks of that night, “there was a fire and smoke everywhere. I tried to drag you out but then…”

She watches you intently, grabbing your hand when your voice fades, “You don’t have to explain, I know you did what you could. It’s not like you made it out without getting hurt either. You had it worse than I did.”

“You heard about that?”

“I saw it on the news.” She says, “The police wouldn’t tell me anything, but I checked with the nurses and they told me you were just a couple doors down.”

“They already came to see you? The police?”

“Yeah for a bit,” she nods, “Since I was a bartender there. They were asking a lot of questions, but I could barely concentrate. So they told me they’ll get me in for a proper interview once I’m discharged.”

“I see. Won’t be long before they start knocking on my door too.” You sigh.

Mia watches your eyes glaze over as you drift into your thoughts, barely moving save for the breaths you take. She taps you on your cheek. “I lost you there for a moment.”

“Sorry,” you chuckle, feeling embarrassed.

“Something’s bothering you,” she says, as a matter of factly, “talk to me, I’m here for you.”

The heaviness weighing in your chest is begging for a release. Still, you’re unsure if it’s something you should be burdening Mia with, despite her receptiveness. She urges you once again, and you heave out a loaded breath.

“The last thing I remember was Jungkook running towards me, screaming my name. Hongjun’s gun was pointing towards him…I swear everything was going hazy at that point, and I felt like I was drowning or something. But I know for sure his gun went off, because there was a loud boom, like⎼ like an explosion and then my ears starting ringing and I was falling and⎼”

A firm squeeze around your hand keeps you grounded when the words start spilling out.

“And I don’t know what happened to Jungkook…”

A stray tear falls, and seconds later you break down into soft weeps as Mia lets you have her shoulder, a soothing hand over your back. She’s worried too, from the lack of response, and when you pull away, her brows are furrowed as if trying to make sense of your story.

“He can’t be…” she shakes her head, “He was probably admitted as well.”

“My friends checked, there’s no record of him.”

Mia thinks, grabbing her phone on the side table. You never got yours back after Hongjun kidnapped you. Her finger hovers over Jungkook’s name for a second before pressing the call and putting it on loudspeaker. But it was over before it even began. No dial tone, just a pause before a long beep and the call ends.

“He probably ran off, right?” You ask, seeking validation.

“Y-yeah!” She huffs out a smile, one you can see right through. “Probably! Maybe at the other end of the planet right now enjoying a nice drink! Nothing better than what I could make though.”

Giggling follows, but you both know it only masks your concerns.

“Crazy how this turned out…” Mia says softly.

“Right? Crazy…” You sigh, mindlessly touching the area around your neck, still sensitive to touch.

Mia notices, and says, “At least he won’t hurt us anymore. When I saw the clip of him dropping to the ground⎼ I was strangely relieved.”

“Wait, Hongjun…he got⎼ is he?”

Mia studies your face. “He’s dead.”

A recollection of moments where your paths had crossed with him flash through your mind, though none pleasant. From the first time you spotted him at the diner, to the times you conspired with him, and right down to the moments before he held you hostage, staring at the body of Taeho at the foot of the steps.

He hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind, nor your interest. But the thought of him being gone is shocking nonetheless, leaving you with a strange feeling.

⎼

“Seems like we’ve got a solid case,” The superintendent removes his glasses and shuts the file on his desk. “But before the trial, we do need to double check and triple check that we have every evidence, every report, every witness on record. I know it took a lot to get this far, everyone did an excellent job.”

“Thank you, sir.” The chief of police stands behind the two men seated before the superintendent. Placing his hands on each of their shoulders, he nods. “All thanks to these two. They led the entire operation, from start to end.”

“It was a team effort.” Seokjin says.

Namjoon agrees, “Everyone did their parts well. Including Jun’s team.”

“That’s good to hear. We’ll arrange for a meeting with everyone present so we can go through this together and prepare everyone for the trials. It’s a big case, every little detail can and will be questioned.”

“Yes sir.” They say in unison.

“I’ll be in touch.” He nods, “Dismissed.”

As they move to leave the room, Namjoon stops short of the door and turns back. “Sorry sir, I do have one last question.”

“What is it, detective?”

“My informant, he was a huge help in⎼”

“Yes, I’ve received your request for immunity.” He says, noticing the look of worry on Namjoon’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m looking into it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

⎼

The ride to the station was nerve-wracking. But you had no reason to be nervous, you reminded yourself multiple times as the officer led you to the interrogation room.

“Just standard procedure.” He says as you take a seat. Pressing your fingers to the spot under your jaw, you take deep breaths to calm yourself. It had taken everything in you not to panic when Hana, Hoseok and your dad were told to wait downstairs.

A minute later the door clicks open and you breathe out in relief to see your lawyer coming through. Soo Ah had been the one to contact you, offering her services. After checking out some of her previous work, you decided to let her help you. “Sorry I'm late.” She mutters, pulling up the seat next to you.

“Not at all.” You smile.

She carries a strong aura which gives you a sense of protection. “You ready?” She asks. “Remember, stick to what we discussed.”

You nod, taking a deep breath.

Seconds later, a detective enters, carrying with him a bunch of files. He sets a notepad in front of him and starts with the formalities. “This should be fairly quick, we’d just like to ask a couple of questions pertaining to the night of the incident.”

You nod, suddenly feeling like a lock had tightened over your lips.

“So, to start off, could you tell me what happened that night?” He smiles, pen hovering over the paper.

Your lawyer nods reassuringly, having already gone over what you were going to say the day before. “I was there with a friend. But I lost her in the crowd. Then there was the fire and I couldn’t find my way out. I thought I could run out the back or through a window….or something…”

Your voice fades off towards the end and your lawyer places her hand to the small of your back. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “That’s when I bumped into him…”

The detective nods, writing it all down. “And do you visit this club often?”

“Quite. It’s where everyone goes.”

“I see.” He says. “And have you ever seen that man before that night?”

“I⎼”

The door bursts open and all heads turn to it. You hear his voice before he makes his entrance and your heart skips a beat. “Sorry everyone, I had a meeting to attend to.”

The younger detective stands to greet him, startled. “Detective Kim,” he fixes his tie, “I was told to stand in for the interview. We’re in the middle of it right now.”

“Thank you detective,” Namjoon smiles, offering his hand for a shake, “but I’m here now. So I’ll be taking over. Would that be okay with you?”

The question was directed to you. And you blink in surprise.

“What is this?” Your lawyer steps in. “Please don’t waste any more of my client’s time. You should’ve sorted this out before the appointment.”

“My apologies.” Namjoon says. He nods to the other guy, who then nods in understanding and quietly dismisses himself. “Let’s continue.”

He looks at the notes previously written by the other detective. “Okay, so have you ever seen that man before that night?”

“Um,” your throat goes dry, feeling the weight of their stares at you. You hadn’t considered that Namjoon would be the one asking the questions. “N-no. I haven’t.”

Namjoon smiles. “Okay. Did you see anything before the incident? Anything suspicious? Perhaps something that would make you a target?”

“Are you suggesting my client had involvement in the events of that night?”

“I’m asking if she had witnessed anything she wasn’t supposed to, which made her a target.”

His eyes shift to you.

“No.”

“It’s just a matter of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” Your lawyer continues, “like she said earlier, she was trying to find a way out, but ran into him instead.”

“Hm.” Namjoon nods, pressing his lips together. He opens up one of the files which show a string of pictures. Some of them you recognise from Hongjun’s team, and Hongjun was among them. “Do you recognise any of these men?”

He slides the file closer to you. Your breath shakes as you take a look and you point to Hongjun’s photo. “Him.”

“Just him?”

You look again, clearly recognising Taeho and Junho. You nod. “Just him. He was the one who took me hostage.”

“Alright.” Namjoon nods. “Anything else you would like to share with us?”

He keeps a straight face, but his brows raise when you delay your response. “No.” You shake your head.

“Okay then.” Namjoon nods. “I hope you can rest easy knowing he’s no longer going to cause you trouble. Please let us know if you have any concerns and…that’s all for today. We’ll be in contact if the need arises.”

Namjoon starts to pack up. Soo Ah does so too and you sit there watching them. For some reason, you’re disappointed at how short this turned out to be, especially since you want more time to speak to Namjoon.

As you leave the room behind the two of them, you watch Namjoon hold the door open for you. You’re about to leave right behind Soo Ah, while Namjoon is headed in the opposite direction, when you turn back to him.

“Detective?” You ask and he stops in his tracks. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

You look at your lawyer and give her a nod before walking to Namjoon. The hallway is clear, though lined with offices throughout. But the frosted glass offers you some privacy.

“Namjoon,” you speak in a whisper.

“We can’t do this right now.” He says in an equally soft tone. “People are watching.”

“I just need to know if he’s okay.”

You look up at him with sad glossy eyes. His shoulders slump like he knows he wants to help but he can’t. “I really can’t say anything right now.”

“Please at least tell me if he’s ali⎼”

“Detective Kim.” A deep and commanding voice startles you into taking a step back. Namjoon straightens up and nods at the source. The man ignores your presence, grabbing Namjoon by the shoulder, motioning him to come along. “My office please, now. We have to talk about the…”

You watch regretfully as they get further away. Namjoon turns back to you before they take a turn around the corner, his apologetic eyes bore into yours, mouthing a sorry before he disappears from sight.

⎼

3 weeks later , Monday

“I said I’m fine.”

In fact you’re quite the opposite. And you feel bad for snapping at Hana, you never mean for the words to come out the way they do, but it happens before you can stop yourself. “Sorry…just…don’t worry about me.”

She looks on with an apprehensive look on her face. Though she wants to help, she knows when not to overstep.

It’s been three weeks since the incident, two weeks since you were able to be discharged, and a week since it was announced that Kim was dead.

“Big time mob boss, Kim Man Shik, dies following two weeks of intensive care…”

It hits you like a brick the moment it follows with details of the case, and only then had you realised they were talking about Kim. Part of you was relieved, now he would no longer be a threat, no longer a looming danger out to get you. But at the same time, you realise, he’s spared from the consequences he ought to receive.

Then your mind springs back to Jungkook. Still no news of him. You had no idea if he was dead or alive. Of course, you keep telling yourself that no news is good news. Maybe he managed to escape. Surely if anything had happened to him, they’d come looking for you.

The lack of clarity surrounding it all leaves you in a state of emotional turmoil. And your friends are at the brunt of it.

“I just need some air, okay?” You don’t spare her a glance as you slip out the door. The temperature’s dropped significantly, sharp winds forcing you to hide your face in a scarf and hands in your pockets.

Since you got back, your trips out of the apartment have consisted mainly of visits to and from the police department to tie up loose ends. Thankfully, none of the questions had been about your relationship to anyone in the club, more so as an ex-employee once they picked up that you used to work there.

You find yourself going down the normal route to school, missing the normalcy of it all. The incident left you on long-term medical leave. Decidedly, your dad wanted you to take the term off, and focus on recovering. You had no say in it, though there was no objection on your part.

But now standing in front of campus, you think maybe a little academic distraction might have been better. Now you’re free to think, and you don’t want to do that.

“Y/N?” Turning on your heel, you find Hoseok walking out the gate, eyeing you. “I thought that was you. Why are you here?”

“Getting some air.”

“Oh.” He waits for you to say something, anything. Instead you continue staring at the campus. “Do you wanna go get one of the crappy food hall meals? I can come with you.”

“No, thanks.”

“How about the rugby game tonight?”

He’s only trying to help, you keep reminding yourself. Just like Hana, everyone’s been super nice to you, and you’re appreciative, but after three weeks you’re tired of them walking on eggshells around you.

You just want things to go back to normal.

Hoseok was expecting another rejection, waiting as you looked to the ground in contemplation. “How about a drive instead?” You suggest, and his eyes light up.

It’s been months since you’ve been in his car, and he’s more than happy to have you sitting in the passenger seat again. He takes a scenic route, and you spend most of the ride with your attention on what’s outside, though he doesn’t seem to mind.

The radio plays at a nice volume, not too loud but enough to keep the ride pleasant. He, himself is uncharacteristically quiet, and you know it’s because of you. When you turn to him, his eyes are focused on the road. Yet he doesn’t miss the chance to flash a smile.

“I never got to thank you,” you say out of the blue.

He waves you off. “No need for that, I love going on drives.”

You giggle and it’s music to his ears. After weeks of solemnity, he’s excited to finally get a glimpse of the old you again. “I mean, for everything else, Hoseok.”

“Oh,” he chuckles. “Nah, don’t mention it.”

“No seriously.” You face the road this time. “You’re always looking out for me. For us. It’s why I knew I could count on you that night. Thanks for coming over and keeping Hana company.”

He doesn’t respond for a while, wheels turning in his head. “I froze for a while, you know?” He admits. “When she told me you escaped, but then those men took you away again. I felt so helpless. And when I got to your apartment, we watched the whole thing go down on the news. And all I could do was sit there.”

“Just because you weren’t the one taking down the bad guys doesn’t mean you were useless.” You say, “At that time, I needed you to be there for Hana. And you were. That itself means the world to me. So thank you.”

He tries to hide the immense joy bubbling in his chest with a tight lipped smile. The car takes an exit up ahead, and you see him driving towards water, a beach just outside of the city. You come to a stop by the side of the road where other cars have parked in a line. He motions for you to get out.

“Said you wanted some air.” He says, leading the way.

You walk a step behind him, taking in the salty air and the sounds of waves crashing into the beach. He finds a spot where the grass meets the sand, and plops down, saving the space next to him for you. The two of you sit and watch as other beach-goers go on to live their normal lives, something you envy them for.

If you close your eyes and imagine hard enough, you transport yourself back to nights with Jungkook. Sitting on the hood of his car, staring up at the night sky. Head resting on his arm, snuggled into his side. You’d go on and on about the day or week you’ve had while he smiles as he listens to you.

But it’s all just a memory now.

When you open your eyes, you realise Hoseok is watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Still worried about him?”

Everyone has basically made up their mind on Jungkook’s disappearance. They believe he managed to escape somehow. That he’s laying low in a different state, different country, trying to start fresh. Though you want to feel the same, you just can’t shake this feeling inside you that it’s not the case.

“Always.” You say. “I have so many questions. But no one has the answers.”

It’s hard for Hoseok, not knowing how to comfort you, not when he doesn’t have the answers himself. How does he reassure you that everything will be okay? The only person that can do that now is Jungkook.

That’s not to say that he didn’t try to help. On his own, he’d gone to several hospitals in the city, just in case Jungkook had admitted himself there. But he came up empty. Still, you were thankful for his efforts.

“Sorry.” He says and you question it.

“For what? You did more than I ever asked of you.” From the look on his face, you can tell he wants to do even more, anything to cheer you up. “I should be sorry for troubling you.”

“You’ve never troubled me,” he says. The lingering stare is one loaded with his feelings for you. Which is another thing you feel sorry for. As if he could read your mind, he says, “You know I’m glad you guys met.”

You wait for him to go on, unsure of where he’s going with this.

“No one has had quite the effect on him as you have.” He smiles, although heavy-hearted. “Even I was going to give up on him. Kick him out of the house. Then you came and everything changed.”

“Yet it turned out exactly as you predicted it would.”

“Some things we have no control over,” he sighs, pressing his lips into a line, “but in hindsight, he was a lot better after you came into his life. The Jungkook I knew before that was a far cry from your Jungkook. Even though he still hates me, shouts at me, rolls his eyes whenever I speak…wait what was the point I was trying to make?”

You laugh out loud for the first time in weeks, feeling the stretch of your cheeks. The dynamic these two have was never something you could help with. They just don’t go well together, like water and oil.

“Just kidding,” he chuckles too, “I was too harsh on him.”

“You meant well.”

“I said things that I shouldn’t have. I just couldn’t understand why he was like that.” Hoseok looks down at the sand, drawing lines with a twig. “But after the conversation we had, I realised maybe instead of trying to get him to understand me, I should’ve tried to understand him instead. I barely know anything about him, so why was I trying to change him so badly?”

You wonder what Jungkook would think if he were to hear Hoseok saying any of this.

“He was right, I did have a saviour complex. And he was the perfect victim. I just had to meddle, had to call Namjoon and tell him about the drugs.” Hoseok’s startled when he feels your palm on his shoulder. He hadn’t realised he was monologuing. He’s here to comfort you, not the other way around. He shakes his head. “Sorry. The last few weeks got me thinking, that’s all.”

“Everything you did came from a good place.”

A bitter smile flashes across his face, one that turns apologetic when he looks you in the eyes. “I even tried to pit you against him, remember?”

You sigh, closing the gap between you. Your knees brush against each other. “We’re all flawed in some way. You had good intentions, but maybe the delivery was bad. Jungkook heard you but he couldn’t feel you. And yeah, sometimes…our emotions get the better of us.”

He avoids eye contact when you tilt your head to look at him.

“At some point, you changed targets and instead of trying to protect him, you wanted to protect me.”

He makes a guttural sound, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palm. “Embarrassing.”

“Yeah.”

At that, he shoots you a look and you both break into a fit of laughter after a second. “Jokes aside, you’ve done more good than harm, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a really good friend.”

“So are you.” His hand rests atop your head, ruffling your hair and you shove him in protest.

⎼

Tuesday

Mia hooks her arm around yours, trying to match your step as you walk. “The word going around is that someone ratted on Kim, disclosed their plans that night. He was going to leave with Mr. B till they were ambushed.”

“Really? Wow,” your try and piece the timeline together in your mind, wondering who it could’ve been, “that’s surprising considering how loyal everyone seemed to be.”

“Hey, when you’re in deep trouble, you’re gonna do everything it takes to save yourself.”

“Right.” You nod, “Who told you all of this anyway?”

“A friend of a friend of a friend.” She gives you a look. “When you’ve made enough connections in this line, it’s easy to fish for info. But you know, take them with a grain of salt. Not everything is true.”

“Does anyone happen to have tea on Jungkook?” You ask, half joking, half serious.

“I tried.” She pouts, shaking her head. “That’s what’s weird, no one’s seen him since. I guess maybe he did escape after all?”

Your shoulders slump and you find interest in the ground. The more everyone grows into the idea of him having run off, the more you lean away from it.

“Why? You don’t think so?” Mia tilts her head, looking at the lines on your forehead that form when you frown.

An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I don’t know. Like you said, it’s odd. My friends seem to think he did run off though.”

“Is that why you’re upset at them?”

“I’m not upset at them.” Your friends would disagree, “It just feels shitty every time they try to make me think the same. What if I don’t believe that he ran off?”

“Do you?”

You think about it for a moment. “I just have a feeling that he’s still here.”

“That could be true too,” Mia says, “when I say escape, I don’t mean he’s left to another country, he’s probably gone underground. I doubt he’d let himself get caught. He’s been doing this for years, don’t you think he’d know where to go, who to go to?”

“No, you’re right,” you laugh it off, but she recognises the bitterness of the sound. “I guess I just…I’m worried about him.”

Her shoulder gently nudges yours, and you perk up. “Of course you are, you have every right to be.”

“I’d be happy if he’s safe somewhere far away, but no one can confirm that,” you say, “so how can I go about my life normally without knowing for sure that he’s fine?”

Mia listens, nodding her head.

“What if Hongjun did shoot him that night? Did he get help? Is he well? Is he even alive?...”

Your voice drifts off towards the end and your steps get slower. The thought is always at the back of your mind, though you try hard not to think about it. What if he’s actually dead? And that’s why no one knows where he is? What if he’s lying somewhere in the middle of an alley or an abandoned warehouse?

Mia’s fingers dig into your shoulders, shaking you out of it. Her brown eyes lock in on yours, hypnotising you with her spirit. “You’re spiralling. Stop doing this to yourself.”

You take a deep breath, “Sorry. Ever since Kim’s death I just keep wondering if Jungkook too…”

“Until we know for sure, don’t let those thoughts consume you.”

“I wish it were that easy.” you carry on walking.

“Consider this, you don’t know where Suga is either right?”

You stop in your tracks. As embarrassing as it is, you hadn’t considered Suga in all of this. You squeeze your eyes shut, mentally palming yourself for overlooking the one person that’s always had Jungkook’s back. Mia raises her brows, knowing she’s made a point.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” You ask in a whisper.

“Cause you have tunnel vision when it comes to Jungkook.” She chuckles. “But for real, they could have escaped together. And if he has Suga by his side, I’m sure he’s okay. Although…”

“What?”

The hopeful look she had on earlier briefly vanishes. “I do have some info. Which may or may not be true but⎼ I know a guy who used to bartend with me at the club like a year ago, he thinks he saw Suga on the other side of the city; you know, where the rich people live.”

“Huh. What would he be doing there?”

“Beats me,” she pouts, “he said he was going for his shift at the Grand Lot or something. And he may have seen someone that looks like Suga walking past him.”

“Wait, do you mean Grandeur Loft?”

Mia’s brows knit together as she tries to recall. “I think so?”

That’s the apartment building you’d been to previously. The address on the paper. Where you’d woken up in that one morning. What would Suga be doing there?

“Then another contact of mine told me Suga was seen with this one guy; he deals with IDs and stuff. Passports, VISAs, everything.”

“Oh,” it hits you, “so that means…they could’ve left.”

“Maybe. But they weren’t a hundred percent sure it was him.” Mia shrugs. “But, I am still inclined to believe those two are together somewhere.”

It gives you a glimmer of hope to know he might not be alone after all. If anyone out there would make sure Jungkook’s okay, it’d be Suga.

“Okay, this is good.” You nod, and Mia laughs. “I mean I’m not happy that Suga’s also missing, but⎼”

“Chill, I get it.”

“Thank you Mia.”

She smiles and goes in for a hug.

While Mia had left you in quite a good mood earlier in the morning, night time comes and you stay tossing and turning still. It’s become a routine, only being able to fall asleep once your mind is fully tired out from overthinking.

Suga being missing might not mean anything, what if Jungkook’s not even with him? And was he really at Grandeur Loft? What for? But no. No one was sure it was him. He might not even be alive. Ugh. You curse your brain for always thinking of the worst.

You turn to your side, and your eyes land on a bouquet of flowers that you got. It was delivered in the morning, just before you left to meet with Mia. In a hurry, you had quickly placed it in a glass cup and left it on your table without much thought.

Thinking back, it hadn’t come with a note, nor a name from the delivery man.

Your phone screen blinds you momentarily as you move to search for the type of flowers they were. After five minutes of scrolling, you find a match. Forget-Me-Nots.

You have never received Forget-Me-Nots before. They’re a peculiar choice, you think. But only in comparison to the flowers you’ve gotten over the last few weeks from friends and colleagues.

You click on a link explaining the meaning of this specific flower.

‘..Represents true love…It is a testament to your relationships and promises the other person that you will never forget them in your thoughts…”

A weird feeling creeps its way to your heart.

⎼

Wednesday

The next day, you decide to head back to work. An ongoing 1-for-1 coffee deal was happening, and the manager had asked if you were good to come down and support the team. Of course, you jumped at the chance. It’s refreshing to step back in the cafe, the smell of brewing coffee and freshly baked pastries giving you life.

It doesn’t take long for you to get back into the hang of it, though you were tasked only to handle the drinks with two others.

As you carry out an order, placing coffee, milk and ice cubes into the blender, put it on medium speed, you look at the tag to make sure it’s right. A caramel frappuccino. Jungkook’s regular order.

You let yourself dwell on it for a minute. But then realise there’s no time to get distracted. You top it with whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel, before placing it on the counter and yelling out the order. One after the other, the orders kept coming, and you worked on drink after drink, without so much as a glance at the customers, appearing only as a blur of faces crowded around the collection area.

By the end of the day, you were slumped. Maybe coming back on a busy day wasn’t the best idea, but you felt a semi-semblance of normalcy again.

The last few customers remain as you start closing. You go around clearing the tables and returning dishes to the kitchen. The last table at the back grabs your attention, the chair being pushed in, and the finished cup placed neatly, with a serviette neatly placed next to it.

It had writing on it, and while you usually would not spare it another glance, something about the way it was organised made you curious. So you unfolded the napkin and felt a knot in your stomach.

You make the best caramel frappe.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips. There was no name on the cup, nor do you remember seeing his face, but the thought lingers, could it have been Jungkook? Your chest tightens at the possibility.

You look out the glass windows, searching for anyone you might recognise. A few tables down, Hana notices, and she follows your line of sight. “What’s wrong?” She asks, brows furrowed.

“Oh. Nothing.” You smile, turning back around.

You go back to clearing tables and finish closing with the team, pushing the note to the back of your mind. But as soon as you’re safe in your room, you remove the crumpled napkin from your pocket, and stare at it again.

You then find yourself rummaging through a stack of papers on your table, searching for the one assignment you recall Jungkook having left on your table. You feel that squeeze in your chest as you place the paper and napkin side by side, studying the handwriting.

Jungkook.

As you drop into your chair, your eyes find the flowers from yesterday. The purple, blue and white flowers look prettier than before. What are the odds that the flowers and this note came to you consecutively? Your hands shake as you let your fingers graze along the petals.

There’s no way of knowing if you’re right, but you know it’s him. You just know it.

A sudden swelling of your heart leaves you in tears.

For the first time in a while, your mind is clear. A huge weight has been lifted, and a surge of adrenaline rushes through your veins. It’s him.

He’s alive.

⎼

Thursday

The following day, you go back to the cafe despite not having a shift, in case he shows up again. Your mood had improved considerably, earning a curious look from Hana in the morning. You thought of telling her, but stopped yourself in the end.

She has been extra protective ever since you got discharged. It would only worry her. Not only that, she’s concerned about how fixated you’ve been on Jungkook. Granted, she does understand how you feel, but the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on can’t be healthy for you.

So telling her you think Jungkook sent you those flowers and the message, would only get her stressed. Even if you showed her the handwriting, she’d have a hard time believing it.

“Hey munchkin,” Taehyung squeezes you in his arms and you chuckle at the random nickname. “You look better.”

“Thanks I guess.” You smile behind your cup, taking a sip. Your eyes fix on the windows, observing every person that walks past.

“When will you be back?” Jimin takes up the space next to you while Taehyung blocks your strategic view of the cafe doors.

Jimin looks at you weird when you adjust your seat slightly to the side, eyes glued to the doors. “Oh, I don’t know yet. Maybe after term break.”

The two of them exchange glances at your odd behaviour. You only notice after the long silence that follows, their stares hooked on you, observing every person that walks into the shop.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not better.” Jimin comments, pulling up the chair next to you, while Taehyung goes into the kitchen for his shift. “What’s up?”

You feign nonchalance, shaking your head at his question, as if you weren’t just staring down every customer. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Been trying to clear out our rooms before break. Mama Hoseok’s driving us nuts.”

“Clearing your rooms?”

“After the whole drug case the administration wants to do a good sweep of the greek houses,” he clarifies, “so Hoseok thinks it’s a good time for us to do some spring cleaning.”

“Oh.” You nod, thinking of those who used to get their stash from Jungkook, wondering how they’re fairing.

“You’re not busy right? Come and help us.” Jimin starts pouting when he sees your apprehension. “Please? Hoseok would be less naggy if you’re around.”

Helping out wasn’t the issue, it was more of not wanting to leave in case Jungkook shows up. But he doesn't know that. You didn’t say a yes, but technically not a no either. So half an hour later, you find yourself walking up the steps of the Omega house, feeling strangely nostalgic, though it hasn’t been that long. But as you reach the top of the steps, you freeze, looking at the door to Jungkook’s room.

You don’t even hear Jimin asking if you’re okay, completely blocking out everything. Until you see Hoseok coming into view from the other side of the corridor. His wide eyes immediately shift over to Jimin. “What are you doing?”

“I thought she could…you know,” Jimin nods towards Jungkook’s door and Hoseok straightens up with a look that could kill.

He clenches his teeth, “Are you crazy?” to which Jimin responds with a whisper and you watch as they go back and forth, arguing.

“I don’t mind.” You interrupt, both eyes drifting over to you.

Hoseok abandons Jimin’s side and a hand rests on your back. “Are you sure about this?”

You’re not. And it might get too much for you, hell, you froze just looking at the door. But perhaps you needed this. To be surrounded by things that belong to him, in the room he’s spent the last couple of years in. The room you’ve spent several nights wrapped up in his arms. Your heart thumps in your chest as your hand wraps around the doorknob.

Half expecting him to be there, the faint smell of his cologne greets you first, then it opens up to a warm, dusty, untouched room. In your mind you see him, laying on his bed, eyes lighting up at your presence.

“You don’t have to do much, just throw whatever he doesn’t need anymore.” Hoseok says, breaking through your thoughts. It calms you the way he speaks as if he believes Jungkook is coming back. Because even you’re not sure of it at this point. “I’ll leave the trash bag here.”

After reassuring him you’ll be okay, Hoseok finally leaves to give Jimin a piece of his mind in his room. You suck in a breath once you’re alone, closing the door and taking in his room.

The framed picture of you on his side table, wearing his favourite dress, unfortunately placed next to an out of place roll of tissue which you shake your head at. “Disgusting.” You chuckle, tossing the whole roll into the trash.

A couple more random items you find lying around gets dumped. And you take it upon yourself to tidy up the mess he left, removing the sheets, sorting his stationery, and airing out his wardrobe. Keeping what Jimin said in mind, you did a quick sweep of all the places he could have hidden a secret stash; under the bed, behind furniture and inside the drawers, but came up empty.

In two hours, it’s sorted. You’re left to bask in the emptiness of the room. You rest on his bed, eventually laying down and staring at the ceiling, trying to recall the feeling of his body right next to yours, arm heavy over your waist, snoring in your ear. You bury your face into his pillow, snaking an arm under it, only to find something else.

It’s a polaroid of the two of you, taken by one of your friends; he’s behind you, arms wrapped around you with his chin resting on your head, while your head rests on his arm. He wears the biggest grin on his face, one you miss so dearly.

A knock on the door has you sitting up. It opens slowly and Jimin’s head appears, he looks around and smiles, “Wow! Can you do my room next?”

“For a small fee.”

He groans before the door is being pushed open wide, and Jimin almost trips as he’s dragged along with it. Hoseok comes through and takes a good look around. Jimin rolls his eyes when Hoseok’s back is to him. “See? This is how you do it. Clean, organised.”

“I checked for any hidden packages.” You add, “None.”

Hoseok’s impressed, smiling wide at you, but his smile drops when he turns back to Jimin. “You have till the end of the day before I sort out your room myself.”

Jimin struts off, muttering some curses along the way. Hoseok offers you an apologetic smile when the sound of Jimin’s door slamming shakes the walls.

“Thank you,” he says, “let me send you back.”

Your feet find it difficult to leave, your steps feel heavy as you make your way out. You make sure to grab one of his sweaters and take a good look once more before closing the door.

“Keepsake?” He purses his lips to the folded sweater on your lap as he pulls out of the driveway.

A tender smile crawls across your face. “Yeah.”

“That’s his favourite isn’t it?” Hoseok says, surprising you. “He’s always wearing that. He’s gonna throw a fit when he finds it missing.”

The corners of your lips lower, turning your smile into a look of contemplation. Your eyes set on the fabric and your hands graze the material. The sudden change doesn’t go unnoticed and Hoseok shifts uncomfortably, wondering if he’d said something wrong. “Sorry. I shouldn’t joke about that.”

“No.” You force a smile. “It’s not that.”

Silence follows as he waits for you to continue. He wishes he could read your mind, because now you’re breaking into another smile. He’s starting to think maybe leaving you with Jungkook’s stuff wasn’t the best idea.

“You’re actually scaring me.”

You laugh even more at the genuine fear etched on his face. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

With his brows furrowed and knuckled tightening on the steering wheel, he keeps switching his attention between you and the road. He grows impatient when you don’t go on.

It’s when he stops at a red light, now being able to concentrate on what you’re saying, fully turning his body to you, that you finally decide to speak.

“I think he’s back.”

⎼

Friday

The school grounds feel oddly unfamiliar after the weeks of absence. Walking down the halls now feels like you’re an outsider. Though, it’s heartwarming to know your classmates have missed you since, running up to you as soon as they catch sight of you to ask how you’ve been.

While the incident was the talk of the town initially, interest about it faded gradually, sparing you from the stares you used to get before taking the term off.

You walk behind Hana, tugging on the back of her top to keep from getting separated. After braving the crowd, you spot the table the boys have reserved on the lawn, Jimin waving in the distance.

You know what this intervention is about. Across from him, you shoot him a glare, corners of your lips turned down in a frown. Hoseok looks away innocently, holding back a smile. Of course, he’s not trying to be cute, he knows you’re angry.

“You just had to yap.” You start the conversation, folding your arms on the table.

“Yeah, not cool dude.” Jimin folds his arms in protest as well.

Hoseok opens his mouth to defend himself but Hana puts her hand up to stop him. The three of you turn your attention to her. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Now I’m even more worried!” She presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“Nothing!” You sigh. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid. But you can’t blame Hoseok entirely, you’d forgotten to tell him to keep it on the low till you have solid proof, so naturally he mentioned it to Hana who all but panicked the night before.

“What did he give you?”

“It was flowers three days ago.” You’re eyeing Hana, observing her reaction. “Then the next day after my shift, he left a message on a napkin.”

They’re unimpressed. “I compared the handwriting on the napkin with Jungkook’s old assignment and they match!”

“So many people have similar handwriting.” Hoseok argues, then shuts his lips when you narrow your eyes at him. “I’m just saying.”

“He’s right though,” Jimin says, “what did he write on the napkin?”

“That I make the best caramel frappe.”

Hana groans and they simultaneously shift in their seats, finding it hard to understand your logic. Even Jimin, who was on your side earlier, presses his lips into a thin line, as if he’d have to break your bubble of delusion.

“That could’ve been anyone,” Hana reasons, “probably a flirty customer.”

“A caramel frappuccino is Jungkook’s regular order. It’s like a thing he used to say to me, that he only ever likes the ones I make.” You’re borderline sounding desperate. “And the flowers? Do you guys know what forget-me-nots mean? He’s basically telling me he’s still thinking of me. I wasn’t sure the first time but now, I’m positive it’s him.”

“I don’t know,” Hana thinks about it, “I feel like I need more than that.”

“Wouldn’t he have tried contacting you first? Like a text or something?” Jimin asks.

You angle your head towards him and raise a brow. “I don’t have my phone, dummy. Lost it when I got kidnapped, remember?”

“Oh right…” He trails off, deep in though.

Your hand rests atop Hana’s, and you look her in the eye. “I know it’s him, trust me.”

“I do trust you.” She places her free hand on yours. “But I’m just not convinced it’s him. Not based on handwriting alone.”

“Well what do you want him to do?”

“Show up.” Jimin says mindlessly, shrugging when the other two look at him. He’s saying what they’re thinking.

Hana plays with her fingers for a few seconds, “Well, yeah actually.”

“We just can’t be sure it’s him.” Hoseok says, “Unless we know it’s him…it could literally be anyone. Unless he actually shows his face and⎼”

“Well he can’t exactly do that right now, can he?”

The bitterness that seeps through your words cuts them like a knife. It’s been a touchy subject from the beginning and they’re always careful with what they say.

“I feel like none of you actually want him to come back.”

“It’s not that,” Hana sighs, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up about something that may not even be true.”

Though you saw it coming, and you know you’re being overly sensitive about this, it still hurts to know they don’t believe it’s him. That they’d rather believe he’d be okay with leaving halfway across the world without so much as a word to you, without thinking of you.

And maybe that’s what really scares you. To think that it’s possible he’s really gone, and okay with being without you.

“Whatever,” you mutter as you get up, without so much as another glance at them.

You hear them calling your name as you go, but you don’t turn, running into the crowded mess of the halls once again and rushing out. You hold back tears, not wanting to make a scene, or let anyone catch you crying.

That night, you skip dinner, telling Hana you’re not hungry when she knocks on your door. You feel bad, but it would be worse to face her when you’re just not in the mood. Lying on your front, you start to wonder if it really was your imagination. Maybe you wanted it to be him so badly, you started to make sense of what didn’t. Maybe it was just a flirty customer. Maybe the flowers were from someone else entirely.

How could you be so stupid to think that any of that was Jungkook? Maybe it’s time you accept that he’s gone for now. Even just the thought of him not coming back overwhelms you and your eyes burn as tears start to fall again.

You sigh, not wanting to dwell on this any longer. You need a distraction. It’s been a long time since you enjoyed a good movie or listened to some songs, so you flip your laptop open.

You click on the green icon on your screen and your spotify opens up, immediately overwhelming you with choices of playlists. You scroll through your original playlists, looking for a specific one, but find something odd.

There’s one playlist you don’t remember creating.

for my love ♡

You prop yourself up on your elbows, unable to contain the beating of your heart against your chest. Jungkook and you have been using a shared account, mainly because he doesn’t listen to music much, so he hijacks yours instead.

You click on the playlist, brewing with anticipation. The songs were added just yesterday. Your breathing gets erratic as you try to keep your composure, and you look through the songs.

hey lover! - wabie

miss you, dear - bol4

save your tears - the weeknd, arianna grande

love is not over - bts

love. - wave to earth

come back to me - R.M.

i swear i’ll never leave again - keshi

see you - amin, dept

p.s. i love you - paul partohap

still with you - jung kook

All doubt that clouded your mind just a minute ago vanishes into thin air. You were right, you were right all along. No longer do you doubt yourself and the love Jungkook has for you. Heart swelling with the love you have for him, you wish you could be with him right now, showing him how much he means to you.

You close your eyes and let the music run, listening to the message of each song he’s chosen. You don’t know what to do with all the emotions going through you right now. Tears keep falling, but happy ones this time.

You lie there, imagining being back in his arms, feeling his presence right next to you.

⎼

Saturday

The playlist is your secret to keep. Partly because of yesterday’s events, but it also felt too intimate to be shared with anyone. Right now, it’s something between Jungkook and you, and you want to keep it that way. Waking up with a clearer mind, you head out. Just on your own this time.

You couldn’t have asked for better weather; blue skies and a gentle breeze. White fluffy clouds follow you from the sky, as if excited to spend the day with you. After breakfast, you make your way to a huge bookstore that had just opened up, spending hours just browsing their collection and ending up with five new books.

By the afternoon, your body aches for your routine nap. But you carry on. Every time you pass by an alley, or a vacated building, you can’t help but to wonder where Jungkook is right now. Now that you know he’s alive, your shoulders feel a little less heavy.

But you miss him still.

The park serves as your next stop, the smell of the earth swallowing you whole in its embrace. You take a stroll, stopping to watch little children feed the ducks, petting several dogs on a walk, and watching teens play basketball on the court.

You only pause when you reach your favourite spot. One where you spent many date nights with Jungkook. You’d seen it in your dreams while you were lying in the hospital, and your mind flashes back to it, how it ended…and you feel your energy draining even more.

You simply walk past it, refusing to go back to the spot till you’re hand in hand with Jungkook.

In the shade of a large tree, you find an empty bench and your back thanks you when you finally settle down. Perhaps your body has gotten too comfortable at home. You reach into your bag and pull one of the books you got and flip it open.

An hour goes by before you realise someone has taken the seat next to you. You had been so absorbed you didn’t even notice. He quietly munches on a hotdog bun, watching the kids play football on the open grass on the other side of the footpath. His side profile gives off a strangely familiar vibe, but you can’t put your finger on it.

“Glad to see you’re well.” He says before taking another bite, still facing forward.

You crane your neck and scan the surrounding area. Is he talking to you? You scoot away slightly.

Noticing this, he chuckles, “Don’t panic, y/n.”

“How do you know my name?”

That’s when he snaps his head towards you, finally giving you the missing puzzle you needed. “Seokjin,” you say in a whisper, “you look different.”

He checks his casual attire; khaki cargo pants paired with a plain blue sweater, and a baseball hat to top it off. “I’d rather not sport a bulletproof vest while I’m enjoying my day off.” He smirks.

Although you’re happy to see him, you realise you don’t know what to say. You’ve never had a normal conversation with him, nothing which didn’t involve the case. It had always been business, or him telling you to back off.

“How was the breakfast at that cafe? They just opened right?” He asks so casually you almost fall for it, then your brows knit in confusion, “Been meaning to go there but you know, super busy the last month. Were the pancakes dry?”

“You were following me?” It was more of a statement than a question.

He takes the last bite of his hotdog, leaving you time to process it. “Just checking in.”

“Why? Do I have something to be worried about?”

He takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “Don’t worry, no one’s after you. You’re safe.”

“Okay,” you nod, “then why are you following me?”

“Come, take a walk with me.”

⎼

“This was by far the longest and toughest case I’ve ever worked on.” Seokjin goes on, “It was all worth it though.”

As you walk with him for the last ten minutes, he shares details of the case that he’s allowed to talk about for now. Mostly what went down on his side, stuff you never knew was going on while you were dealing with Jungkook and Suga and Hongjun and⎼

“I was never really on board with letting you guys in on the case. But Namjoon insisted.” He shrugs. “And I trusted him.”

“I hope we didn’t end up making things more difficult.” You voice out, and he smiles. “We did, didn’t we?”

“I”m not gonna lie, I almost wanted to bring you in for meddling. But I must say…” he looks at the ground as he walks, kicking stray pebbles along the way, “You’ve got guts. You should consider joining us.”

You spit out a laugh. “Please, I've had enough action to last me a lifetime.”

“I hope you’re not too traumatised. It’s terrifying to be held hostage like that,” he stops walking and so do you. “I can’t imagine what went through your mind when that was happening.”

“A lot…” you scoff, heart rate increasing from just the thought of it. “But it was less terrifying when I saw you guys.”

Jin looks at you for a moment, then looks away again, as if he has more to say, but he can’t. You don’t realise how far you’ve walked, now all the way to the back of the park, a more secluded area where the footpath meets a road, just before a dead end.

“This is where we separate.” He says, holding out a hand for you to shake.

You tilt your head in confusion but shake his hand anyway. He then nods to a black SUV parked by the side. You look at the car and back at him. The sliding door opens automatically.

“I can’t say this is exactly an ideal situation to be in after all I’ve been through.” You say, earning a hearty laughter from him.

“Good to know you’re taking precaution.”

“Don’t worry,” A familiar voice comes from the other side of the car. The windows are tinted, so you can’t see who it is, until he shows himself by the door. Namjoon waves. “I promise I’ll be nice.”

⎼

It almost felt unreal. Somehow you had pushed Namjoon far back into your mind, reminded yourself that he couldn’t help you, he had better things to do, and accepted it for what it is. Seeing him now, greeting you with such warmth, as compared to what happened at the station three weeks ago, has you taken aback.

The ride starts off quiet, and it makes you all too aware of everything around you. The leather rubs against your skin, the headboard’s a little too high, the seat belt too tight and the sound of the blinker irritates you.

“You mad at me?” Namjoon breaks the silence first. There’s an air of serenity surrounding him now, much calmer, unlike how he was the last few months.

“No. Are you mad at me?”

Your question makes him chuckle. “Whatever for?”

“For troubling you.”

“Believe it or not,” there’s a smile on his lips as he speaks, eyes on the road, “you weren’t my biggest problem. Of course, I was occupied trying to take down a renowned crime boss but…I guess you were there somewhere in the back of my mind.”

You hit him with the back of your hand and he winces. “I mean if you didn’t have to look out for me, it would’ve been a lot easier. I kept interfering.”

“I won’t deny that.” He nods, “You’re stubborn. Hard-headed.”

“I get it.” The glare you send him still makes his skin crawl.

“But, your heart’s in the right place.”

Leaning back, you smile out the window and watch as the world goes by. He hasn’t told you where you’re going, but you don’t mind. With how busy he gets, you might not get another chance to speak to him like this.

And your thoughts wander off to Jungkook. Now that you know he’s alright, you wonder if Namjoon does. And if he doesn’t, bringing it up would only put Jungkook in a bad position. Though they were friends at some point, Namjoon was undercover and it is his job to put criminals away, and that includes Jungkook if he gets the chance.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask after a while.

“Hm? Tell you what?”

You turn to him, “That you were undercover.”

He smiles, shaking his head. “You already knew too much. I’d just be putting you at risk.”

“Just say you don’t trust me and go.” You roll your eyes at him and your stare stays there for a while longer, questions running through your mind. “How did you do it?”

A glimmer of delight shows on his face. It’s like he’s been waiting to tell you all about it, like a kid wanting to share their latest obsession with you.

“When I first planned to infiltrate Kim’s organisation, I spent a lot of time studying Kim’s lower ranks,” Namjoon starts, “mainly those on the streets that run the show for him. They don’t know everything, but they weren’t my targets so that’s no issue. I just had to get them to trust me.”

“From there, I’d try to work my way up.” He laughs then, “But I guess I wasn’t as discreet as I thought. Word spread that there was a suspicious guy snooping around. I blew it basically.”

“What happened then?”

“Someone was sent to snuff me out. But…” Namjoon pauses, “one thing led to another and that person ended up being my informant.”

“What?” You ask, flabbergasted. You wonder if this was the same person Mia was talking about, the one who betrayed Kim.

“I know, I was surprised too.” He laughs. “But people are complicated I guess. We met up a couple of times, I took a gamble and offered him to be my informant for a reduced sentence, and he took it up. Never told me why he did it though, he had a lot to lose considering how close he was to Kim and the higher ups.”

“Where is he now? Is he okay?”

“Haven’t seen him since the incident actually.”

Someone close to the higher ups? You can’t imagine who else had been in on it.

Namjoon laughs. “You know, when we planned for all this, I never expected there’d be an overprotective girlfriend to think about. Hoseok should’ve warned me.”

The mention of Hoseok makes you wonder if he’d told him about your meeting today. “In all fairness, he didn’t know me well back then.”

“Have you spoken to him recently?”

“Have you?” You flip the question back to him and he grins sheepishly. “You all but disappeared.”

“Sorry I was⎼”

“Busy, I know. Don’t worry.” You pat him on the shoulder. “We get it. We just…or I just felt like I was shoved to the side after it was all over, you know? I didn’t even know Hongjun was dead till Mia told me.”

Namjoon admits his fault. “But remember, your knowledge of the case is a secret. So realistically, I couldn’t show that we were friendly. I didn’t want anyone dragging Hoseok into this either just because we’re friends. I kept my distance because of that.”

That makes sense. Everyone’s eyes were on him as the lead detective, of course he’d take extra precaution.

“Thankfully, no one suspected anything. No one we should worry about anyway, since the main targets are dead.”

“Right.” You mutter, still trying to get used to the fact that Kim, Hongjun and his crew are all gone.

“I tried to eliminate any interest surrounding you. Afterall, you were a hostage victim, so it was fairly easy.” Namjoon said, “Then there was that first interview. I had a meeting prior, so I had to rush through it just to get to you on time. Although, I knew something like that might happen, which is why I sent Soo Ah to take your case.”

Your head snaps in his direction so quickly at the realisation. Soo Ah, your lawyer, had been Namjoon’s doing? It was odd when she showed up offering her services out of the blue, but you assumed it was only because of the high profile case.

“Hold on, that was you?” Your voice is laced with surprise.

Namjoon’s dimple makes an appearance when he smiles again. “She’s a childhood friend, amazing lawyer. I called her in as a favour.”

Even after everything, he tried his best to keep you safe. At the thought of it, your eyes start to brim with tears. “Namjoon…”

He switches his attention between you and the road. “Aw come on, don’t start.”

“I’m so touched.” You bring your sleeves to your eyes and wipe the wetness away. “Thank you. So much.”

“It’s nothing.” He says mindlessly, though you disagree.

As he turns the corner into a busy street, the car eventually slows down to a stop, heavy traffic ahead. It isn’t unexpected at this time of the day, when everyone’s leaving work. Now that he’s not occupied, Namjoon faces you.

“I have one more surprise.”

“What was the first one?”

He takes offence at your question. “The first one was meeting me.”

“Boo.”

He presses his lips together and tilts his head sassily. His arm which was reaching for the compartment in front of you, backtracks. “I changed my mind. No presents.”

“I’m just kidding,” you giggle, hooking your hand over his arm and he pulls away, only for you to pull him back. “Please? I love presents. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple⎼”

He scoffs, trying to keep a straight face. “Now I remember why I moved miles away from my sister.”

Despite his complaints, he pulls out a brown paper bag, handing it to you. Only for a moment do you hesitate before tearing the seal open. You look inside and let out a gasp. “My phone! You got it back!”

“I backtracked to where they held you during the kidnapping and bagged it.” He says, watching as you struggle to switch it on. He offers you a charging cable connected to the dashboard. “It was lying in a pile of trash they left behind.”

“Ew. But perfect.” A green swirl appears on screen as it starts to charge. “Namjoon, I can’t thank you enough! I thought I’d lost everything on here.”

Once the phone comes to life, you brace yourself for the influx of notifications. It keeps you busy while Namjoon tries to find an alternate route. You swipe the notifications clear save for the tens of unread messages, mostly well wishes from friends. Then, it leaves you hovering over the homescreen, a picture of Jungkook and your hands intertwined.

Glancing at the man next to you, he’s busy scrolling through the maps app on his device. Part of you wishes to tell him about Jungkook. Surely, he’d want to know if Jungkook’s alright. But you don’t take the risk.

Sighing, you look out the window at the mass of cars outside. It’s much further than your area. He’s driven right into the busiest part of the city, where most office buildings are located, which explains the heavy traffic. Even more so at this time of day.

As you let your head rest on the headboard, you stifle a yawn, feeling the events of the day taking a toll on you.

“Long day?” He chuckles, similarly getting comfortable in his seat. “Why don’t you rest for a bit. This might take a while.”

“Where are we going again?” You ask sleepily, already leaning against the side.

“You’ll see.”

“Hm.” Your body melts into a slumber in less than five minutes with the aircon blowing in your face and the radio softly playing. Your mind drifts off to the night of the photo on your homescreen. The two of you had ditched the car, opting to walk that chilly night to a nice place downtown.

Complaining that you were taking steps which were too small, Jungkook stretches his arm out to pull you along. As you go on your way, you snuck in a quick snap of your intertwined hands. The slight pause in your step when you do, has him complaining even more, and you shut him up with a kiss. It always works. His smile is the last thing you see before you’re awakened by the sound of an angry honk.

“Whoops, sorry.” Namjoon glances at the rear view mirror, “That one’s on me. I cut him off.”

You stretch your arms out in front of you and twist your back with what little space you have and sigh in content. Checking the time, you realise almost half an hour has passed. “That was a good nap.”

“Yeah? You were giggling in your sleep.”

“Was I?” You remember the smile Jungkook flashed you in your dreams.

“So listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.” His tone is a complete 180 from before. This is more like the Namjoon you’re used to. Though familiar, it scares you. “It’s about the case.”

“Okay.”

When Namjoon goes quiet to focus on the road again, it’s then that you realise the car is passing by a familiar set of buildings. And you vividly remember this route.

Up ahead, the Grandeur Loft comes into view. That’s right, this is why the route seems familiar to you. It’s where you had woken up that one morning after getting high, and also the address on that piece of paper you took from Jungkook. Your conversation with Mia about Suga comes to mind as well. You think you’re just passing by at first, until Namjoon drives towards the entrance.

“Wait, why are we here?” He doesn’t respond and you press him. “Namjoon, seriously, where are you taking me?”

“Calm down,” he finally says, “some things I can only talk about in the privacy of my apartment.”

“Your apartment?”

He nods and drives through the loft security, nodding to the guard as they grant him access to the parking lot. Multiple scenarios go through your brain as you try to predict how this might go.

“You trust me right?” The engine goes off, leaving you to ponder in silence. He waits. You nod meekly. “Then come on.”

The building has much tighter security than you remember. But then again, you were high the first time there. A pass is required just to activate the elevators, and inside, Namjoon presses the button to the 20th storey. A tiny screen at the bottom prompts for his fingerprint. Then a flashing green light signals its approval and the elevator starts moving.

“I know you still have a lot of questions about that night. Most of which I couldn’t disclose to you back then. But now things have mostly settled, I have the answers to your questions.” He says, hands in his pockets. You look at his reflection on the doors in front of you.

“That’s why I decided to come and see you today.” He continues. “I’m bringing you to meet someone.”

“Someone?”

A soft ding goes off as you reach the floor. It opens to a long hallway with only two apartments. He guides you to the one on the right. You walk in step with him. Namjoon extends his arm to stop you just before reaching the door. “You’ll want to talk to him. He’ll have the answers to your questions.”

“O-okay.”

“Whatever you learn in this room, stays in this room.” He says, “This is top secret information.”

You let out a heavy sigh, sickened by the thought of having to keep yet another secret and nauseated by the anticipation.

He scans his biometrics against a scanner on the wall next to the door, and a green dot appears on the handle, the sound of the lock clicking. “You ready?” He asks.

Your heart thumps in your chest. “Yeah.”

You’re greeted by an empty apartment, similar to the one you woke up in that night. It’s clean and spacious, and feels untouched. Soft music plays in one of the rooms, though you don’t see any evidence of anyone living here. Is this how Namjoon lives?

You turn on your heel, to ask him, but he presses a finger to his lips. A second later, he’s calling out, “Kid! I’m back!”

Somewhere round the back, you hear the music getting louder and footsteps making its way down the hall. A weird feeling washes over you.

“You don’t have to yell.”

Your heart does a somersault in your chest. You feel like you’re going to throw up and faint all at once. Your feet feel stuck to the ground, body frozen. The steps get closer and you hear it come to a halt, feeling the presence behind you.

“I told you not to call me ki⎼”

The voice fades away. Namjoon is smiling, encouraging you. You turn slowly, wondering if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You’re probably just hearing things.

But your eyes land on the man standing just metres away from you.

Jungkook

⎼

It’s like the air is sucked right out of you. Your voice goes missing and for a minute, all you can do is stand frozen to your spot, staring at him. His round shiny eyes stare right back at you, equally as surprised.

You take one cautious step forward, as if he would disappear if you made any sudden moves.

Then with a whisper of your name, a grin appears on his face and he’s running towards you. His strong arms sweep you off your feet, spinning you around, and your heart runs wild in your chest. When your feet land, his hands cup both sides of your cheek. “It’s you.”

“It’s you.” You mirror him, planting your hands over his and wrapping around his fingers. Tears stream down your face, and his thumb catches them mid-way. “Jungkook. It’s really you.”

“Y/N, I’ve missed you so much.” He’s quick to pull you into an embrace, and you bury your face into his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too.” You feel his tears seeping onto your clothed shoulder. When he finally lifts his head, you trace his face with your fingers. “I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, dropping into your arms again. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

His eyes roam to the side of your face and the bandage on your head, gently grazing the light bruise on your cheek. A sharp pain stabs at his chest when he sees your wounds, feeling guilty for all of it. You grab his hand and hug it against your chest, shaking your head, “I'm fine.”

Excitement has blood rushing through your veins, hands shaking and knees almost giving way and you let out a chuckle at the absurdity of it all. You clench your fist, digging your nails into your palm to snap you out of whatever dream you might be having.

But it’s all real. And Jungkook remains, glossy eyes bore into yours, nose turning red.

“Are you okay?” You ask, “You’ve been good?”

Jungkook grins, “Better now that you’re here.”

Your heart is on the verge of combusting out of exhilaration. Without warning, he moves in, crashing his lips to yours and your hands tug at the fabric of his shit into a fist. Rough at first, but you slowly ease into it, and soon your lips move in sync with his. Jungkook controls his ache for more, and pulls away to let you catch your breath.

Your forehead rests against his, and when he tilts his head to look at you in the teasing way he does, you bury your face in his chest. He chuckles and you feel him land a kiss on the top of your head.

Jungkook holds you tight, not wanting to let go. But you feel his arms loosen slightly as his attention is striped away from you and his eyes float over to where Namjoon stands, long forgotten.

“Surprise!” Namjoon raises his palms in the air.

It makes you laugh and you wipe away the dampness from your eyes as you pull away. Jungkook walks past you, going to give Namjoon his deserved hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you both.” He shrugs.

Jungkook squeezes him, and Namjoon takes it only for a couple of seconds before pushing him away. As you watch them go on, the stuff Namjoon said earlier slowly creeps its way back to the forefront of your mind.

Noticing your silence, Jungkook turns back to you, offering you a worried smile when he sees you ruminating over it. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“How? Why?” You continue to stand there confused.

Jungkook’s eyes widen momentarily, then his features ease back into a smile. He brings your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palms.

“It’s a long story.”

⎼

An orange glow blankets the city skyline as the sun sets. The top to bottom windows give you a perfect view, like something out of a movie. From behind, you feel Jungkook’s hands snaking around your waist and his face appears next to yours. His sweet voice rings in your ear as he tears you away from the window. “Let’s eat.”

You were pleasantly surprised that they had room service here when Namjoon brought it up. “Is this a hotel or an apartment?”

“Doubles as both.” He mentions, “Usually staff from out of town that come here for work utilise the apartments. High security level apartments like this one are only by special request.”

And you thought it was fancy enough from the outside.

Jungkook fills your plate for you; mashed potatoes, steak, some truffle fries, eggs. And he would’ve kept going had you not stopped him. He only smiles when your hand tugs on his elbow and sets the plate in front of you.

“What about me?” Namjoon hands his plate out.

“You have hands, do it yourself.” Jungkook spits out, shoving his plate away and filling up his own.

Namjoon shakes his head. “Rude.”

“Shut up. She’s injured.” Jungkook says, pointing to the mark on your head.

Namjoon’s mouth parts open and he pulls his sleeve over his shoulder to reveal a healing wound. “I got shot, dickhead. Twice!”

“It’s different.” Jungkook stuffs his mouth with food and Namjoon scoffs.

You’ve missed this more than you thought. “I guess some things never change.”

“Yeah, he is as annoying as ever.” Jungkook says with his mouth full.

While Namjoon mocks him in a silly voice, you stare at the side profile of your boyfriend. He’s lost a bit of weight, hair a little bit shorter like he just had a trim, and his eyes are a little sunken from lack of sleep. The traces of healed cuts and bruises remain on his arms and face. Naturally, your fingers brush against them and he turns at your touch, leaning his cheek into your open palm.

Staring into his eyes, you feel a sudden change in your body and flashes of that night appear before your eyes. The scene of him running towards you and the sound of the gunshot in your ear, causes you to flinch. Jungkook makes a grab for your hand and squeezes it in his.

Your breathing slowly goes back to normal. Realising that tears are starting to form again, you force a smile to shake it off. “I guess I’m not fully recovered yet…”

“Of course not.” Jungkook pulls you closer to him, eyes reflecting the worry in yours. “Do you know how scared I was…I thought I told you to go home. What happened?”

“We did. Mia and I. But Taeho was waiting for us at the apartment and they threatened to hurt Hana.” You explain. “I had no choice.”

“He escaped from the warehouse raid,” Namjoon adds, “I guess he went straight to Kim and got his boys to go get you.”

Jungkook sighs. “That psycho. He almost killed you.”

“Well he’s dead now.” Namjoon points out. “Don’t let him stay in your mind rent free. You both are lucky to be alive.”

“He shot at you didn’t he?” You ask Jungkook. “I heard the gunshot but I blacked out…I thought it had to be either you or me.”

“Luckily he was too delirious to aim properly otherwise it could’ve been fata⎼” Namjoon’s words disappear back into his throat when Jungkook shoots him a vicious scowl.

“It hit you?” Your eyes roam his body, visibly distressed. You were right. He did get hurt. “Where?”

Reluctantly, Jungkook lifts his shirt, revealing the wound on his lower right abdomen. You let out a heavy exhale, brows knitted in the way it does when you get stressed. He releases his shirt before you spiral. “I’m getting better.”

“Wait but Hoseok and Hana said you weren’t at the hospital that night. They asked around for you but there was nothing in the records.” You say, “Everyone thinks you got away…”

“They were looking for me?”

“Of course, everyone’s worried.”

The corners of Jungkook’s lips raise slightly at the thought of it. He hadn’t considered that anyone other than you was looking for him.

“We have our own care facility, so we brought him there.” Namjoon states, raising his eyebrows when you tilt your head in confusion.

“Oh.” The wheels in your mind start turning. “Why?”

“Because he got shot.” Namjoon’s face matches yours in confusion at your question.

“Why not the hospital like everyone else?”

It doesn’t show, but Namjoon is amazed at your ability to sniff out the little details. Of course you’d wonder why he was brought elsewhere to be treated. You were never someone who would let things be. He should know this by now.

“Is it because he’s in police custody now?”

Namjoon’s eyes momentarily shift to Jungkook sitting across from him. “He is, technically. Just not in the way you’re thinking of.”

“I’m still under supervision.” Jungkook adds.

“I don’t get it.” You sigh, setting your utensils down. There’s clearly something they’re not telling you. “Are you in trouble or not? And why are you keeping him here?”

“Because I couldn’t have done it without Jungkook. He saved my life in that alley.”

You nod your head slowly, “So because of that, they’re giving him leniency?”

Jungkook focuses on the table, sporting a tiny smile. Namjoon’s eager to elaborate once again, “Remember what I said in the car? About my informant?”

You blink. Perhaps your mind just refuses to believe it till you hear it.

“Jungkook’s my informant.”

taglist:

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inuiiwonderland · 11 months ago

Text

Twisted captivity

Chapter 4

Twst third years x fem reader

A/n: So sorry for not updating in over a month😭 life’s been rough lately and work has me TIRED. Anyways I will be back on my grind soon guys (after a good nap)

Words: 1.1k

“Leona kingscholar”

It read. After that scary encounter at the savanaclaw enclosure, you thought it would be a good idea to get some more information from Crowley about the three mers you met the other day.

The moment you got home, you did a deep dive about their past and background information for the next 3 hours.

Jack howl

Current Age: 16

Rescued/Found: Found washed up on shore with a big heavy fishing net on him. It was a hassle trying to set him free since the poor mer was confused and scared seeing all these strange people trying to touch him.

He was only 9 at the time

Poor boy, he never saw his Family again after Crowley decided to take him in his care.

You quickly wiped the small tear that slid down your cheek and grabbed the second document.

Ruggie bucchie

Current Age: 17

Rescued/Found: Was kept in captivity by a crazy fisher family before being found by trein.

The family that kept ruggie said he was abandoned by his family but both Crowley and trein didn’t believe it. Poor boy probably got caught up in their nets. It was later discovered that the home that ruggie was kept in was a merfolk slaughterhouse. He was taken away from his family at the age of 4 and was originally planned to be slaughtered and sold but that was soon forgotten when the sweet old lady who was against the whole thing stopped them from hurting him.

He was 6 when they rescued him from that crazy family.

And last but not least

“Leona kingscholar”

Age: 24

Rescued/Found: Unknown

“Huh?” You frown and flip through the many pages of Leona's document. But found nothing. The only thing you could find was his name, age, weight, height, and species.

You’ll have a talk with Crowley tomorrow morning about this. You wiped your tears before getting up and placing your cup in the sink. You took the documents with you and made your way upstairs for a much needed rest.

The next day you tried getting more information about Leona's background from crowley but the moment you asked it’s like he completely stopped functioning and was acting strange.

Before you could even ask again, he quickly shoo’d you away and told you that your main focus for today was taking care of the savanaclaw enclosure.

So here you are with your notebook and pen and your lunch as you make your way to the enclosure.

“Wonder what that was all about” You mumble under your breath as you take out your notebook and pen.

You hummed to yourself as you quickly jotted down notes for your mer friends from heartslabyul.

Ace has been wanting to try more of that cherry tart that you brought in the other day while deuce wants some more of that chocolate cake.

I should sneak some more of that next time I’m assigned to heartslabyul

Once the big doors of the enclosure came into view you started putting away your stuff in your bag before pushing the big doors open.

You didn’t know what to expect when you first stepped foot into savannaclaw but you definitely didn’t expect there to be a meeting of some sorts.

You saw as everyone gathered around this huge rock and you had to squint to see who they were all looking up to.

It was Leona!

You were shocked to see as everyone gathered around him silently. He was talking but you couldn’t understand anything that he was saying since whatever was coming out of his mouth didn’t sound human.

Merfolk language

The only thing you could hear was chirps and clicks. Whatever he was saying he had everyone nodding along in agreement.

But your observation was soon cut short when you let out a sneeze. Everyone quickly turned to see you watching them. You awkwardly waved as everyone just stared.

You feel uncomfortable now that everyone's eyes are on you.

You thanked the heavens when Leona grabs everyone’s attention again. All eyes are back on him.

He let out a few more chirps and clicks and soon the meeting was dismissed.

You watch as everyone swam in different directions while two of them stayed behind.

Ruggie and Jack!

You slowly walked up to them and you could see ruggie wave at you once you came into view.

It seems he’s taken a liking towards me. That 's good!

“Hey ruggie” He chirps before sniffing the air. His eyes quickly land on your bag before looking back at you.

“My bag?” He points at it before pointing at his mouth.

That’s when you remember that you had your lunch with you.

Ah he’s hungry

You sat down on the patchy grass and pulled your bag towards you. You opened it up and the boy came closer as the smell of your lunch grew strong.

You heard a small growl and the boy sheepishly smiled when you looked at him.

You dig through your bag before taking out a sandwich, a drink, and a small bag of donuts.

Water splashes everywhere as Leona growls and shouts in the merfolk language at ruggie but he doesn't care as you gave him half of your sandwich. He takes small bites before scarfing down the rest.

He pats his belly before sniffing again and eyeing your small bag of donuts. You grab the bag and hand him one of the donuts.

He sniffs it before eating it whole. His eyes widen and he eyes the bag of donuts before pointing at the bag and then his mouth.

He likes it. I should keep that in mind for future visits!

“You like the donut? Want more?” He nods.

“More” You giggle before giving him another one. As your attention was on ruggie, you didn’t notice leona stare. Jack was a bit hesitant but he soon worked up the courage to swim closer to you. You looked at Jack and smiled as you gave him a donut.

Now your main attention was on the two merfolks in front of you.

Leona watches carefully at the interaction that you have with the two young mers in front of you. Ruggie seemed to fully feel comfortable in your presence while Jack is still trying to get used to it.

At least you aren’t one of the mean ones

Leona thinks

He still doesn’t fully trust you, but…..he can get used to this new change.

“Y/nnnnn!” You mentally groan and resist the urge to roll your eyes when you hear your name being called by the one and only….crowley.

“Yes crowley?” The man smiles as he hands you stacks of papers.

“This is for you!”

“For…me?”

“Yes! For I so graciously decided to assign you to 5 more enclosures!”

“What”

WHAT???

“You’ll get paid more!”

Oh brother…..

I noticed that i haven’t introduced the rest of the heartslabyul crew but don’t worry! They will soon be introduced! Again the first and second year crew view reader as a mother figure/older sister! Those poor babies went through a lot under crowley’s care:(

more Information in future chapters

Taglist:

@ruisann

@roseapov

@0ffth3rec0rd

@anunholyabomination

@owodi

@mochi-lover26

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@floevi

@thatpersonuouknow

@h0rr0r-10ver-69

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#inuiiwonderland🤍#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst x reader #twst x female reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere savanaclaw #yandere heartslabyul #yandere themes #tw: yandere #twisted wonderland x fem reader

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eu0n1a · 8 months ago

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Pls I need more of yandere Izuku!!! I BEG OF YOU!!!! I 100% believe he is stalker material and would have that wall of pictures of you.

yandere prohero izuku breaking into your home (+more Stalking details)

your relationship seemed normal to you, he's your childhood best friend. after graduating UA and quickly rising to the top. you never escaped his mind. he misses you SO MUCH!

i mean you two have spent practically your whole lives together, and now what? nothing? he's so busy now, beating villains bloody, attending national TV interviews. if it's not the work then it's the media not giving him space to breathe. and you barely have time with all the pile of work your professors give you.

he would try his best to maintain contact with you. but everytime the messages would be hours apart. he felt you fading away and it upset him. he hasn't seen you in so long.

so he decides to visit you. issue is during his visit ...

he knows it's late at night. but something caught his eye. around the small space between the curtains and he saw YOU!

"gosh you're so cute," he thinks with heart eyes.

deciding to let himself in.

"best friends let themselves into eachother's houses, right?"

"i just want to turn off the TV, i'm doing her a favor."

taking advantage of the fact it's 3AM. passing through the white picket fence. in your backyard he opened the back door you forget to lock. Japan is one of the safest countries in the world. why lock it?

because of him. you'll learn soon.

exploring your house first, particularly your bedroom. rationalizing it by saying, "their birthday is coming up. maybe i'll find out what she likes."

of course he rationalizes every odd thing he does.

sniffing the pillows, a soft smile, whispering to himself, "mm strawberry shampoo" total lovesick idiot.

by the time, he finished learning things about you, he got to the living room. The TV radiating light on your face, everything else dark.

today was his first picture, his heart beating rapidly as he took it. gosh, how much he wanted to kiss you, hold you. you always lingered on his mind and he hates himself. hates himself for not confessing his love to you back in UA.

you could have been his. his honey, his lover. someone to dote on, someone to love, he hated how he wasn't able to caress your cheek.

but for now he had to return back home.

creating fake social media accounts. thank goodness you didn't have a private account. saving all your pictures, visiting your page whenever he could.

screenshotting pictures, making deep dives on the surroundings. who's that? he's searching up everything about the people around you in those pictures.

but he wouldn't talk to you, no. he needs to make sure he has all his facts straight about you. needs to make your reunion perfect.

instead he took pictures, videos. his phone had a whole folder dedicated to them. it was private, labeled as 'documents'. even bought a usb to upload it to his personal laptop.

pictures of you out on a walk, at a club, at home. he would dedicate his time simply staring, excusing it as "she's changed so much, i need to learn more about her".

it turned into something he couldn't help. secretly following her because 'a quirkless person must be protected. nothing will happen to them on my watch.'

familiarizing himself with you again as he opens one of his drawers. notebooks upon notebooks, all about you, from elementary to his UA years. reading through them either to give himself a good laugh or reminisce the past.

opening up a new notebook for a new era. once the pen hits the paper, he writes quickly, whispering gibberish at a rapid pace only he could understand.

(thx 4 the ask, I've literally never had one before💗)

#yandere izuku midoriya #yandere deku #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #gender neutral darling #yandere mha #yandere #yandere rambles #yandere rant #dark romance #dark fantasy #stalking fantasy #stalker yandere

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pxnsneverland · 5 months ago

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Heartbreak Hotel | austin!elvis x oc (part 4)

(gif source: austinbutlermischief)

plot summary: Angel Casteel is a small town girl who lucked into working as a costume designer at a film studio. Unfortunately, her confidence in herself wavers as she is assigned to work with Elvis on his latest motion picture. Overcome by his star power at first, she slowly starts to realize there is a man behind the fame, a man she understands. But as they grow closer, the world grows more turbulent, especially Elvis's world. Will this Angel be able to save Elvis from himself and the people around him? Or will getting mixed up in his word prove to be her downfall as well?

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2198

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 4: Behind the Music

After a few days, it seemed strange not going to see Elvis on set every morning. Angel found myself with an unusually large amount of free time. This newfound freedom, however, gave Angel the opportunity to dive back into her own passions which had been somewhat sidelined during the intense filming schedule. She spent hours in her small studio, her fingers dancing over textiles and sketches as she conjured up new designs. Between meetings and recordings for a Christmas album he didn’t even want to continue doing, Elvis sought refuge in Angel's studio. The space was serene and flooded with natural light, the walls draped with fabrics of all textures and colors. It was worlds away from the glittering harshness of the showbiz industry that continually tried to mold Elvis into something he was not. As Angel worked, Elvis would often sit quietly in a corner, strumming his guitar lightly, sometimes humming along to whatever tune floated into his mind.

One afternoon, as Elvis watched her sketching a new pattern, he broke the silence with an unexpected suggestion. “Angel, baby,” he started tentatively, “Once all the contracts are up and everything is resolved here, the Colonel is talkin’ about goin’ back to performin’. Movin’ to Las Vegas.”

Angel paused her sketching, her pencil hovering mid-air as she processed his words. The thought of Las Vegas—a city of bright lights and endless nights—seemed so far removed from the quiet intimacy of their current moments. She looked up at him, trying to read his expression. "Las Vegas, huh?" she said softly, laying down her pencil.

“Yeah, Las Vegas. It’s a good place to start up my music again, getting away from LA and leave ‘movie star Elvis’ behind.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself it was a good move as well as her. “I want you to come with me.”

Angel felt her heart skip a beat at the invitation, the gravity of his words sinking in. She had only been in LA a short while herself, chasing something more than her old country town. She had thought getting a job at the production studio had been that ‘something more’. Until Elvis came into her life. Now, with Elvis’s proposal hanging in the air between them, a new chapter seemed to be beckoning. She hesitated for a moment, the threads of her previous life tugging at her heartstrings. “That’s a…big step, Elvis.”

Elvis watched her carefully, his eyes searching hers for any hint of what she might be thinking. “I know it’s big, darlin’. But I ain’t just talkin’ about Vegas. I’m talkin’ about us. You and me, takin’ on the world together. I can’t imagine bein’ anywhere without you.”

His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Angel took a deep breath. She set her pencil down fully and moved towards him, her hands reaching out to grasp his. “You really mean that?”

“Every word,” he affirmed earnestly, capturing her hands in his own and holding them tight.

Angel looked around the studio, at the creations that represented her dreams and aspirations. Could she really leave all this behind? Yet, looking back at Elvis, she realized that he *was* her dream now, inextricably woven into the fabric of her future. She smiled, the decision suddenly clear in her mind. "Alright, Elvis.”

Elvis exhaled a sigh of relief, his face breaking into a wide grin. “You won’t regret it, Angel. I promise you that.” He pulled her into his arms.

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

Half of Angel’s apartment was already packed in preparation for her upcoming move to Las Vegas even if some of Elvis' description of it seemed much too excessive for her. The boxes piled high in the small living room, each labeled with meticulous care: 'Kitchen stuff', 'Sketchbooks', 'Fabric'. Angel moved among them, her heart a mixture of excitement and apprehension. As she folded another of her delicate designs into a box marked 'Studio', she paused, holding the fabric against her cheek. The texture was familiar, comforting. In that moment, the doorbell rang, pulling her from her reverie. She set the fabric down gently and walked over to open the door. Standing there, with a lopsided grin was Elvis. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint as he saw the chaos of her half-packed apartment.

“What are you doing here?” Angel asked returning his grin.

“I was hopin’ to pull you away from all this packing.” He kissed her briefly on the lips. “I want you to come somewhere with me today.”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.” He motioned behind him and there was a car waiting with a driver.

Angel hesitated, glancing back at the mountain of boxes that still needed her attention. But the allure of an unexpected adventure with Elvis was too tempting to resist. With a playful sigh, she grabbed her purse and followed him out the door.

For the whole of the hour-long car trip, Angel pleaded with Elvis to reveal their destination. With a devilish grin on his face, he continued encouraging her to be patient. As the car continued driving up the mountain, past trees, plants, and the odd cactus, she eventually gave up asking. The road curved and twisted through the landscape, each turn revealing breathtaking vistas that Angel had only ever seen in photographs. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over everything. The car finally slowed to a stop behind the Hollywood sign. Elvis got out first then opened the door for Angel extending his hand to assist her out the vehicle. She strolled to the 'O' and stared out the center onto the metropolis. It was stunning in appearance, enormous in size, and all encompassing.

Elvis stood beside her, his presence a comforting constant. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they both took in the expansive view. “I wanted to show you this,” he said softly, his voice tinged with emotion.

Angel turned to look at him, her eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. “It’s beautiful, Elvis. But why here?”

He smiled. “I used to come here a lot when I first moved to Los Angeles. Things seem so simple and quiet up here.” He sat down in the crook of the 'O' and leaned back. He took her hand. “I’ve arranged a meetin’. Jerry told me about these guys he had met goin’ out one night. They’re called Binder and Bones. He kept sayin’ ‘You gotta meet these guys, E.P.! They’re the ones who put James Brown and the Rolling Stones on stage. You gotta meet ‘em’. When we were talkin’ in the trailer about me gettin’ back to myself and all…I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give ‘em a call.”

Angel sat beside him, her heart beating with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The idea of Elvis reconnecting with his musical roots and stepping back onto the stage was thrilling, yet the uncertainty of it all weighed heavily on her. "Binder and Bones, huh?" she mused aloud, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Elvis squeezed her hand gently, his gaze fixed on the sprawling city below. "Yeah, they're supposed to be real innovators in the music scene.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “The Colonel doesn’t know about this, does he?”

A pack of cigarettes appeared from Elvis's pocket. With his lips, he drew one out and lit it. He exhaled the cigarette smoke. “No, he doesn’t. And I’d like to keep it that way for now. He’s got his own ideas about what my comeback should look like, but I need to do this my way.”

Angel nodded. “Well, I don’t have any objections. You know how I feel about that man.”

Elvis chuckled softly, the smoke curling up into the air between them. "I know, darlin'. That's why I'm doing this with you by my side. You understand me more than anybody else."

“Who knows what’s better for Elvis Presley than Elvis Presley, right?”

Elvis grinned, that familiar twinkle lighting up his eyes. “My angel…with you, I think I can finally get things right.” He drew her in and brushed their lips together.

They separated when they heard footsteps approaching. Jerry approached then along with two guys: Binder and Bones. It was clear that all three of them meant business. Angel withdrew her hand from Elvis's. His chest rose and fell as he looked out at the cityscape again.

The guys came to a complete halt. “Mr. Binder, Mr. Howe, this is Mr. Elvis Presley and Ms. Angel Casteel.”

Angel gave a friendly nod to each of them. Elvis pretended for a second that he didn't notice their presence. He looked immersed in what he was seeing. Then he spoke, “When I first came to Hollywood, I would come up here and sit for hours. Right over there…” From where he was seated, the Griffith Observatory was readily visible across the distance. “...that’s where they shot Rebel Without A Cause. Man, I used to dream of bein’ a great actor like Jimmy Dean. The sign was beautiful then.” He stopped to examine the rusty metal that was only visible from this vantage point. “And now…Feels as though lots of things are like that these days. Broke down, beat up. Rotten.”

Elvis removed his sunglasses and proceeded. “I really like what you guys did, putting James Brown and the Stones together.”

Binder responded right away. “We’re, uh…big fans of yours, too. It’s just that, Mr. Presley, we don’t usually—”

“Oh, Elvis.”

“Elvis, uh…” Binder continued, “Christmas specials aren’t really our thing.”

That made Elvis grin knowingly. “I know.” His grin, however, was short-lived and rapidly faded. “Tell me honestly, where do you boys think my career’s at right now?”

Both Binder and Bones gazed at one other, their silence revealing their reluctance to speak. Bones answered, “Well, it’s…”

“It’s in the toilet, Elvis,” Binder said. He gave Angel a sidelong look. “Sorry for the terminology, ma’am.”

Angel gave a small smile, showing that she took no offense. She appreciated the honesty; it was something Elvis desperately needed if he was going to make a real comeback.

“My girl may look like a lady, but she’s tough.” Elvis laughed and gave Angel a knowing grin before returning to the conversation. “Oh Lord. I knew you were the right guys for this job. You know, back when I was starting out, some people wanted to put me in jail or even kill me, ‘cause of the way I was movin’.” He dismounted from his perch and began to stroll. He stopped when he reached a beam holding up one of the letters and rested against it. “So they cut my hair, put me in a uniform and they sent me away.” Once again, Elvis's mind was wandering off into the past. “That killed my mother. And ever since then…I’ve been lost.”

Angel approached Elvis and placed a protective arm over his forearm. “Elvis…”

He lowered his head and smiled at her. “I’m alright, darlin’.” Elvis turned to see Binder and Bones, who were still listening intently. “When you’re lost, people take advantage. It wasn’t until an angel came into my life...that I realized how truly lost I was. I need you fellas to help me get back to who I really am.” His tone was pleading rather than assertive.

“And who are you, Elvis?” Binder inquired, peering upward through his oversized sunglasses.

“Well, he sure as hell ain’t someone who sings Christmas songs by a fireplace in a wool sweater,” Angel commented with her hands on her hips. Both Binder and Bones laughed nervously to themselves, then quickly resumed their serious businesslike demeanor.

“And what does the Colonel think?” Bones asked.

“I don’t give a damn what the Colonel thinks,” Elvis answered back.

That appeared to arouse both producers's attention as they exchanged happy glances. They agreed to film Elvis's special and confirmed it with a handshake.

“We’ll start drawing up plans,” Binder said, “Set designs and everything and we’ll run them by you. I promise you’re not going to regret this.”

“No matter if it works out or not, I don’t regret anythin’,' ' Elvis declared.

Jerry waved farewell as he led Binder and Bones back to their vehicle at the top of the hill. When everyone else was gone, Angel grabbed Elvis and threw her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her shoulder stroking calming circles all over her back. They held each other for what seemed like an eternity. Elvis took a step back to look her directly in the eye, but his hands remained planted firmly on her waist. “This is gonna be big, baby doll. I can feel it. Bigger than anythin’ anyone has ever done before.” He pulled strands of hair out of her face. “But no matter what happens, I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you, understand?”

Angel chuckled a little. “What’s gonna happen to me?”

Elvis drew her in for a close kiss on the forehead and then lingered there. He took a long breath in. “Nothin’.”

Stay tuned for part 5!! Click HERE to view!

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aztarion · 4 months ago

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OC Deep Dive - Soledad

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

(Ignoring the obvious fire and sunlight here)

That she won’t be useful; that she’s been ruined for nothing.

The blood bond.

Diablerie — not as in being diablerized, but the act itself; of being manipulated into/tempted again; of not being able to stop/her bulimia triggering if she’s for whatever reason feeding from another kindred, something she tries very hard not to do.

Aila — that presence when it stirs.

It’s more “fear for”, but Julian, or specifically whatever he’s thinking when his eyes get that focused black gleam. She knows it like some dreaded visual cue: tunnel vision. It used to be cute, watching him prattle while they lay out on the trailer roof on the New Mexico border two hours before sunrise, but they’re not fledglings anymore — there are very real consequences now.

Her voraciousness — in physical and emotional hunger.

Rats.

Do they have any pet peeves?

People that don’t use their turn signal.

When strangers ask about her scar or tattoos right off the bat.

Getting blood on or washing blood out of her clothes — because she customizes everything and really does try to save them.

Minimalism.

Stock cars.

People who talk too fast. When Julian especially starts talking too fast.

When ANYONE adjusts absolutely anything in her car. However she will do just that to yours.

What are three items you can find in their bedroom?

I guess when she’s on the move she will always have:

Topaz and mahogany heirloom rosary

Matte black finish gun kit (+ nighthawk custom)

Emergency blood bag

really quick vibes...

What do they notice first in a person?

Physically, and in rapid succession, their put-togetherness, what they’re wearing, then eyes, then mouth. Appearance might get a second once-over to take everything in, maybe sense the Beast. Body language and demeanor. Power they exude. In some situations with kindred and in more situations with mortals, she might try to gauge how attractive they perceive her to be. Where their eyes fall; how interested and receptive they are. In kind, how open, honest, or easy their behavior is — if there’s a forced sincerity about it. Sol doesn’t have auspex but she is decently intuitive and can be manipulative. She’ll also analyze how they interact with other people — those they know or mutual strangers.

What she notices first after building a rapport with a stranger is loyalty. That’s the moment it sinks in that this is or could potentially be someone reliable or meaningful to her.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Physically: 7. Much tougher than a mortal obviously, and she can definitely take a beating, but she doesn’t have fortitude and can be a bit of a glass cannon in a straight fight against heavy hitters. If her insides are mostly outsides at some point, she will be screaming crying throwing up (literally if her derangement triggers which then probably kicks off a hunger Frenzy).

Mentally: 9 LOL. Sol’s resolve and composure are insanely high and she has such a weak, dissolving and deeply negative sense of self already… it would be difficult for someone to target her in that way and have any luck getting through to really hurt her. Which is a whole other issue 🤦‍♀️

Emotionally (essentially if you are Julian, or her brother Tiago, or the presence of Aila; to a lesser extent Elena and Lettow): 4. Huge upset here is what’s most likely to pierce carapace, hit that soft underbelly. Sol definitely has got that desert fruit pulpy, nutty and horrifically messy centre underneath all the disconnect.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (Or freeze or fawn?)

It depends. Sol actually works well under pressure (again as long as it’s not her very specific brand of emotionally taxing trigger).

If she thinks she has a chance at getting through, or has no chance at all in a fight, she will fawn. It’s become insidiously intrinsic: whatever you need, whatever you want, I'll bend to any shape, don’t worry about me.

In an unavoidable outright hostile situation she’ll hold her ground and fight but be dirty about it. The nighthawk is pretty effective on mortals lol. With other kindred or when vastly outnumbered however… she’s not a tank but she’s slippery and her scorpion’s-touch-augmented-protean-claws hit like envenomated machetes. She can draw a whip from her vitae and create ugly little parasitic snakes made from spilled viscera. She will incapacitate, possibly fawn again if something can be worked out (Miss Second Chances To Her Detriment over here), and/then/or shoot to kill. Or die I suppose if she loses.

What animal represents them best?

Scorpions, snakes… specifically the species’ that are shyer, solitary and less aggressive, which in some cases those often have the strongest venom — very fitting for Sol. She can be a handle-carefully-and-don’t-push deal these nights.

It’s more out of symbolism but I really like the idea of the hummingbird for her too, in an “in another life/if things had went differently” kind of way (also the Sierra Vista connection — where she grew up). She was once naturally extroverted, poised, playful, dreamy, brave. Never stubborn or too headstrong, but at least less inclined to do what others wanted of her if she disagreed. Those traits have warped a lot, and she’s since got too-sharp teeth and corpse-skin that really is starting to feel a lot like carapace.

She knows she’s a monster, and she has complex views on that, but at the end of it all cannot detach from her conscience. Guilt eats her alive. I think Sol wants nothing else but to keep from what feels like the inevitable complete unhinging of her jaw.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Striking, quiet but restless beauty. You guys will have to forgive my art lol. She has soft hispanic/asian features, thick dark wavy hair, deep olive tan skin, long legs. A slow and alluring (but not provocative) way of speaking and moving.

Obnoxious tattoos, dark undereyes, and on closer inspection her gnarly jagged scar can often have a stranger furrowing their brow.

She maintains a poker face, is intentionally unexpressive, but there’s an unconscious sensuality about her.

Sad eyes, like they themselves are trying to tell you something that even she’s not aware of.

Very cautious and conscientious — an intuitive stranger might clock that the fawn fear response has become her natural state of existing.

Do they have any hobbies?

At home base, tuning her ride and probably Julian’s fleet if one is left around. She hates stock. I hc Elena will not let her near the Datsun though, that they share that don’t fucking touch anything in my car rage 😭

She has a pet project of fixing up an old BMW R80 G/S — the motorcycle model her dad drove back in the day. (give me the strength to finish the art i have of this pleaaasee)

She likes to make things out of scrap metal too — welding shit together into little tools, or just because she wanted to see or keep her hands busy. Loves customizing, recycling, retrofitting, renovating and restoring.

Honing her butchered version of blood sorcery. Sol dropped out of school and is not academically inclined, but she is tenacious and open-minded and very much a quick, kinetic learner with a good eye for detail. Julian fills her in on whatever important prep knowledge and research she needs from tomes for bigger rituals, but he is usually the one conducting those — Sol has no grand plans. Otherwise she experiments a lot with minor powers within both the blood sorcery and protean disciplines, and her own weird magic-melee amalgamation of them. Because I have to dual-spec or I'll die!!!!!

finally had time to finish this….thank you so much for the tag @diableriedoll ^^

i’ll tag @devilbrakers @gauntlings @silkenred @kibellah @vesperblood

@ustalav @auspex @eurodyning

@ruvviks @girlnextvore @baelavelaryon @dykeferatu and any oc perverts reading this because my mind goes blank everytime

#oc: soledad #codex: sol #monster post sorry..i wanted to have art finished too but my wrist is not cooperating #vampire the masquerade #vtm night road #vtm

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tsumskz · 1 year ago

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Hiiii I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if it was possible to do a artist hyunjin x reader, but a spicy one, basically they get in a heated Argument because, life has been stressful and hyunjin has been spending so so much time locked away in his room and not paying any attention to reader, so hyunjin storms out, a couple hours pass, reader decided to take a shower, and after coming out of the shower, only wearing a thin white tank top and lace panties.

Hyunjin comes home a couple minutes after and spots reader on the balcony just looking out, and notices what she is wearing, he goes up behind her and they start being all lovey dovey and they talk things out and say sorry, and then BOOM they start making out and have sweet sex on the balcony.

Idk I'm sorry if it's weird you don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable ofc but it was just an idea I had for a while, thanks for taking the time to read this, have a good day !!!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა - artist hyunjin x reader

warnings: smut (hot balcony sex) , slight angst.

— notes: omg just reading this made my jaw drop. this is my first ever request and never been so excited to write something. wanted to give this a more detailed feel and a bit longer but gonna give it my best shot. i hope it lives up to your expectations ! —

4 days..

It's been so long since you last talked to your boyfriend, Hyunjin. Each passing day feels more unfamiliar than the last. You know he has a reputation for immersing himself in his art, locking himself away in his studio for hours on end. It's his way of diving deep into his creative process, only emerging to use the restroom, which isn't very often. At first, it concerned you, but you got used to it because it never lasted longer than a day.

However, as the third day rolled around, panic started to set in. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was off this time. Was he even still in the room? Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, you finally mustered the courage to approach his studio door. You gave it a couple of gentle knocks, hoping he would hear and come to answer it. But all you were met with was deafening silence. You knocked again, desperation creeping into your voice.

Then, you heard a scoff from the other side of the door, confirming that he was indeed inside and alive. You couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and frustration. Maybe one more knock would do the trick, you thought optimistically. But once again, there was no response. The panic and worry that had consumed you began to transform into a simmering anger. It felt like it was always one thing after another with him.

If he wasn't engrossed in creating a masterpiece, he was tirelessly researching and seeking inspiration for his next project. It seemed impossible to have a normal conversation without art dominating the discussion. It felt like you didn't even have a boyfriend anymore. With a heavy heart, you reluctantly accepted defeat and retreated to your own room, resigning yourself to another lonely night in the bed that was meant to be shared with Hyunjin.

You longed for his touch, yearned to hear him say how much he loved you. You craved the simple pleasures of being a typical couple, going out on dates and making cherished memories together. It was hard to recall the last time you two went on a date, let alone the last time you shared an intimate moment.

These thoughts raced through your mind as you fell into a deep slumber, entering the fourth day of his self-imposed isolation.

—————-

You wake up suddenly, startled by the sound of your bedroom door closing. You catch a glimpse of Hyunjin leaving the room. Without thinking, you rush to the door and see him standing in the doorway of his art studio. Tears start to flow down your face as all the emotions you've been holding in come crashing down. You drop to your knees, overwhelmed by everything that's been building up inside you.

In the midst of the studio's creative chaos, you find Hyunjin, his back turned to you as he adds strokes to a canvas that's as tumultuous as the current state of your relationship.

"Why do you keep doing this, Hyunjin?" Your voice cuts through the silence, a mix of hurt and frustration. "You've been in here for days, and I feel like you're just leaving me to... to just rot out there!"

Hyunjin's hand pauses mid-air, the tension palpable. He turns, a frown etched on his face. "It's not about you," he says with a sigh. "This is my work, my art. It demands my time."

"But what about us?" you counter, the hurt in your voice growing. "Your art might need you, but I need you too. We're supposed to be in this together, but I feel so alone."

He sets his brush down, facing you fully now. "I'm not trying to be selfish, but you knew how important this is to me. Can't you see that I'm doing this for us, for our future?"

“Our future doesn't exist in just your paintings, Hyunjin! It's here, between us, and it's fading away while you're lost in your colors and canvases!" Your words hang heavy in the air, an undeniable truth that even his art can't paint over.

"do you want to end up homeless because without this we will have nothing" His words cut through the air, sharp and unforgiving. "You just sit around, contributing nothing!"

your jaw clenches, disbelief painting your features. How could he be so blind? The house—its cleanliness, the meals that grace the table, the very fabric of your shared life—it's all maintained by your hands. And when he burrows into the depths of his creative fervor, it's you who ensures he doesn't wither away, lost in his canvas-strewn sanctuary. You're the one who remembers life beyond the art, who keeps the world turning while he's lost in his work.

Yet here he stands, accusing you of idleness, oblivious to the love and labor you pour into every corner of your shared existence. The sting of his ignorance is a physical ache in your chest.

“fuck you!" The words erupt from you, a volcanic release of pent-up hurt and frustration, before he turns on his heel, leaving nothing but the echo of the slammed door and a heart fracturing in his wake. The betrayal is a bitter pill, the taste lingering on your tongue. To him, are you truly nothing but a shadow, an accessory to his life of vibrant hues and bold strokes?

The silence of the house wraps around you, a cold embrace as you grapple with the shards of a love you thought unbreakable.

Time seemed to crawl as you grappled with the aftermath of the confrontation. Could it be true that his devotion to art overshadowed the bond you both nurtured? His absence left a void, and questions about his return loomed large in your mind, shrouded in a haze of uncertainty. The complexity of your emotions was overwhelming, and in an effort to find clarity, you sought refuge in the warm embrace of a shower. As the water cascaded over you, it seemed to carry away some of the sorrow, the familiar fragrance of your shampoo evoking memories of Hyunjin—how he cherished its scent, always breathing it in with a tender kiss on your forehead.

Resolved to calm your restless thoughts, you emerged from the shower, selecting a pair of charming lace panties and a simple white tank top from the wardrobe you both shared. A reflective pause in front of the mirror preceded your journey to the kitchen, where you crafted a mug of soothing warm tea. Cradling the comfort in your hands, you stepped out onto the balcony, the view from your apartment unfolding before you. It was there, amidst the tranquility, that recollections of joyous times spent with Hyunjin surfaced, before the tide of your relationship turned so tumultuous.

The love you held for him was profound, yet his seeming indifference left you adrift in a sea of whys. As the hour approached, worry began to knit your brow, the absence of any sign from Hyunjin igniting a concern for his whereabouts.

——————

The faint jingle of keys disrupts the quietude, signaling his return. Uncertainty grips you; should you greet him with open arms or brace yourself for another disappointment? As he steps through the house, the choice is made for you. You remain still, feigning ignorance of his presence, your body bare except for the delicate fabric of your tank top, a stark contrast to the cool balcony tiles.

The door closes with a firm click, and the sound of his footsteps grows louder, a steady drumbeat heralding his approach. Suddenly, his arms are around you, an unexpected embrace that sends a jolt through your body. "I'm sorry, you are infinitely more important than my art," he murmurs, his voice laced with remorse. You can't help but relent a little, his warmth seeping into your chilled skin.

"It wasn't about the art," you manage to say, your voice a mix of sadness and frustration. "It's feeling undervalued, as if my contributions are invisible to you." The words hang heavily between you, a confession of your innermost feelings. A tear threatens to escape, a tangible sign of your emotional toil. "I strive to fill our days with happiness, yet it seems to go unnoticed."

You're enveloped in a silence that's both comforting and tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, the soft touch of his lips on your shoulder breaks the stillness, a silent plea for forgiveness, coaxing you to turn and face him.

Enthralled by his magnetic charm, you find yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, eyes shimmering with the remnants of tears shed. A tide of regret engulfs him as he confronts the sorrow etched upon your features, a sorrow he inadvertently sculpted.

"I love you beyond measure. We'll carve out more time just for us," he vows, his voice a tender murmur. His eyes, once a fortress, now betray a vulnerability, a sheen of uncried tears mirroring your own. "You are the essence of my existence, and I hold dear every sacrifice you've made."

In a moment charged with raw emotion, you reach for him, fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt, drawing him into an ardent embrace. Your lips collide, a tempestuous dance that obliterates all distance between you. As passion crescendos, his hands explore the landscape of your back, a silent ode to your shared connection.

The caress of his lips on your skin leaves a trail of warmth, even as the cool night air brushes against you. Each kiss is deliberate, a silent promise of his yearning, and with every brush of his lips, the thrill of being out in the open, on the balcony, heightens your senses. The anticipation builds with each second that passes without his touch, and now that he's here, the hunger in his actions is unmistakable.

His breath against your neck sends another wave of chills, contrasting the heat that's pooling within you. The adrenaline of possibly being seen intertwines with the longing you've harbored during his absence. His touch is insistent, a testament to his own need as he slides the strap of your tank top, baring you to the night and to his gaze.

The sensation of his mouth on your breast, the mixture of his warmth and the cool breeze, is intoxicating. As he lavishes attention on your nipple, his tongue painting slow circles.

“fuck” you can't help but voice your pleasure. His groan vibrates against you, a deep sound of longing that echoes your own feelings.

turning you around, the cityscape becomes your backdrop, and his hands are firm on your hips making sure to hold you up. The slide of your panties is a whisper in the night, and his fingers are deft as they explore, sending jolts of pleasure through you with every movement. It's a dance as old as time, his skill with his hands a familiar path to ecstasy.

The passage of time seems to dissolve as he unzips his pants, the sound cutting through the stillness of the room. With a deft motion, he eases his boxers down just enough to liberate himself from their confines. Positioning himself at your entrance, the mere brush of his tip against you feels like liberation from an age-old yearning. The months of solitude, of only your own touch to satiate your desires, now seem a distant memory.

As he enters you, a chorus of deep moans escapes from both your lips, a testament to the intensity of the connection. "It's so tight," he murmurs, a hint of awe lacing his voice. His concern is palpable; he fears that any premature movement might bring about a swift end to this long-awaited union.

The initial thrust is a mix of eagerness and caution, as if he's navigating uncharted territory. The sensation of being filled, stretched so exquisitely, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. He follows with another, more urgent thrust, and you can't help but clench around him, a reflexive response to the overwhelming sensation.

“enjoy the view while i’m fucking you," he whispers, his hand drifting to initiate an exquisite dance upon your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your core. Compelled by his command, your eyes flutter open to the celestial canvas above, yet the allure of his gaze draws you back. Craning your neck, you steal a look at him—his focus intense, his movements deliberate—each thrust a promise of restraint, a slap withheld. His eyes lock onto yours, heavy with desire, and you feel the tension spiral within, escalating rapidly until it shatters, leaving you breathless, stifling your cries of ecstasy. He follows suit, his rhythm losing finesse as he succumbs, “baby i’m gonna cum” a fervent declaration escaping him as he collapses, his warmth enveloping you.

in the aftermath, you nudge him gently, a silent plea to seek refuge beneath the cover of your bed, embarrassed by what just took place moments ago. Hyunjin complies, his demeanor not of shame but of quiet triumph. He tucks you in, his lips finding your forehead in a tender reassurance, dispelling any fears of prying eyes. Nestled in his embrace, drowsiness overtakes you, “ i love you” his murmured affection lingering in the air. You acknowledge it with a weary nod, contentment flooding you as you drift into slumber, wrapped in the security of his arms. Forgiveness can wait; for now, this bliss is all that matters.

#skz #skz smut #smut #tsumhal #hyunjin #skz scenarios #hyunjin skz #hyunjin smut #stray kids stays #straykids #straykids texts #bangchan #bangchan smut #seo changbin #stray kids #stray kids fake texts #stray kids smut #hals requests

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cellophaine · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter V: BACKCOURT

Masterlist

Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader

Warnings: Toxic family dynamic, toxic parents, mild abuse.

Author's Note: Woo this is a longer one (a little over 5k 😬). In this chapter, we dive deep into Reader's background to see how she became the way she is now. Art is not in this chapter much, but I promise he'll be back and his appearance will be delicious.

GIF Source: @/roranicuspond

2021. San Francisco.

4 AM. Two hours felt endless in your sleepless state. You sat up and, after a moment of contemplation, left the bed.

You settled on the couch with a glass of water and turned the TV on. Flipping through the channels, your eyes unfocused over the flashing images. A familiar face appeared for a brief second before vanishing. Your body went still, and your finger rested atop the forward button before reluctantly pressing backward. The image changed again, and Art's face filled your screen once more. His lips moved, but you didn't hear a thing. From the close-up, you could see the small changes in the face you had missed so much. His hair looked longer, and as he dipped his head slightly to hear the interviewer's question better, the movement pulled a strand of dirty blond out of the neat slicked back and drew it over his forehead. He looked much happier than you saw him last. You increased the volume to hear him better.

"I've been busy with the foundation. It's a lot of work, but I find it very fulfilling. I might be retired, but tennis is still an important part of my life, you know? And, of course, spending time with my family–"

The screen turned to black, leaving you to confront yourself. You stared at the empty screen, where Art was seconds ago, at your guilty conscience. After all that time, you were still stupefied at the mere sight of him. Your heart ached in your chest, and you felt a new kind of exhaustion taking over your body. Your loneliness crept along the edge of that guilt as you looked away from your own reflection. This empty apartment used to harbour the presence of another, but that was long gone. It took a while for this place to feel like it belonged to only you again.

A muffled sound of an incoming text came from the bedroom. You rose from the couch and went to retrieve it. The text was from your sister.

Call me when you can.

You opened her contact info and called. Two rings later, she picked up.

"Hey Soph. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. Isn't it early for you?"

"It is, but I wasn't sleeping anyway. What's up?"

There was a brief silence on her end. You had a feeling what her call was about before she said it.

"Dad called me. He asked about you, and if you were planning on coming home this Thanksgiving this year."

"And?"

You could hear your sister's soft sigh on the other end.

"He wants to follow up with you on his cut from your second book."

The Dollhouse was partly autobiographical. It took inspiration from your childhood, grew a solid root and allowed the fictional elements to take shape and become the story it was. It spent ten consecutive weeks as number one on the New York Times best sellers list, but the aftermath dulled the achievement. Your parents picked it up, and so did some people they knew, and for a while after that, they sent you texts doused in anger and emails with thinly veiled threats. Most of them came from your dad, all of them explicitly expressed indignation and wrath, and none of them received a response from you.

"He's not getting a penny. The Dollhouse was fictional."

"I told him that, but he wouldn't listen."

"He can take it up to my lawyer."

After a moment, you asked.

"Did mom say anything?"

Your sister fell silent again. Before the release of The Dollhouse, things were already strained between you and your mom, and after, the contact slowed until it ceased to exist. You hadn't talked in a few years, and to you, it was for the best.

2006. Your hometown.

Despite school ending on the 16th, you booked the train ticket home for the 22nd. The early train was quiet as most people in this cabin retreated to their own bubbles. Some read, some slept, and some listened to music with their earbuds. The nerves in your lower abdomen seized, and all of a sudden, the cookie Grace made two days ago became so sickeningly sweet that you had to put it back in the wrapper. You sighed as you looked out into the passing scenery. Home had always been a tough subject for you, and it involved complicated feelings that you couldn't put into words. How could you confide in someone that the idea of going home filled you with a sense of dread?

Standing in front of the door to your childhood home, you took a deep breath and straightened your posture. You rang the doorbell and listened for its muffled echo from the inside. You could see that the TV was on from the bay window with the curtain swept to the side. Your dad was in his usual seat, watching a game. After a moment, you rang again. You watched as your father took a sip of his beer and placed the bottle back on the small table before reclining further into the chair. You heard hurried footsteps making their way to you, and the door opened to reveal Sophie. She excitedly called out your name and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I'm so happy you're here! How was your trip?"

"It was fine. How are you doing?"

"Hanging in there."

Your sister looked relieved now that you were here.

"How are … Mom and Dad?"

You asked, and Sophie caught onto the underlying message.

"Mom is grumpy because Dad's not helping. She's stressed out about the Christmas dinner. She hasn't decided on what to make for dessert."

"Oh, no."

Usually, by this time of Christmas, she already had a detailed plan for the big family dinner on the 25th, from appetizers to desserts to finger food before the dinner started. She prided herself on the Christmas feast, which was hosted by your family every year.

"Yep. Also, the tree hasn't been decorated."

"It's… the 22nd."

"I know. That's why Mom has been in rare form the whole week."

You grimaced. Your sister ran her hands up and down your arms reassuringly.

"You've got this. I'll be here with you."

You nodded, and the two of you headed inside. You dragged your suitcase with you as Sophie announced your arrival, but you were only met with silence. You stopped at the door to the kitchen and took in the chaos. Not a lot of free counter space was spared from the various pots and pans and unfinished dishes. Your mom was standing with her back to you, chopping vegetables and dropping them into the big pot.

"Hi, Mom."

She didn't turn around to acknowledge you, but she addressed you as she took a break from the vegetables to stir a smaller pot.

"I thought your exams were done on the 13th?"

"They were, Mom."

"Then why didn't you come home earlier?"

"I had work."

"I highly doubt that they were so busy that they needed you there."

"But … they were. It's Christmas."

"Almost Christmas. I don't see why you couldn't come home earlier and help me with the housework."

The enunciation in her words was hard to miss. She went back to the cutting board, her movement more precise now, and riddled with more force.

"I booked the train as soon as I was able to."

"My life would have been so much easier if you were a little more thoughtful than that."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I–"

She finally turned to look at you.

"Why are you still standing there? Put your suitcase away before someone trips on it and help me."

Sophie gave you a look of sympathy. You obeyed your mother's dismissal and took your suitcase upstairs to your old bedroom. Your parents made you repaint and fill in the screw marks before you left, and now it had turned into a workspace of some sort. On one side, there was a computer setup with a wooden cabinet filled with files, paper and books. The other side was your bed, with a blue sheet covering the whole bed. You pulled it off and found your old bed sheet, just like how you left it a few months ago. You wheeled the suitcase over to the old dresser, your eyes roaming over the fine layer of dust on its surface. You lowered yourself to the bed, allowing yourself a moment of seclusion away from your parents. You wanted to lay down, to close your eyes, and to escape for a while. Being here for less than ten minutes had left you with a taste of dejection. It'd started to gather in your throat, but you didn't want it to win. You were stronger than this. So you swallowed it down and buried it deep, putting on a smile before heading downstairs to join Sophie and your mother.

Your effort and helping hand in the kitchen didn't improve your mom's mood. She complained about your hair, telling you how much it irritated her eyes and making you put it up with a hair tie. She was there to criticize the ratio of the marinade and the meat, the way you prepared the rolls of grilled beef, and the piping on the cupcakes. It was exhausting, but you kept the smile on your face and did as she said. About two hours later, the fridge was filled with food and prepared ingredients for Christmas day. You went to the washroom to catch a quick break from your mother's nagging and checked your phone. There was a missed call, along with a text from Art.

I hope your trip home was good :). I wanted to call to see how you were doing.

– I'm home now. Sorry I couldn't talk. Maybe later?

He responded within the minute.

Promise?

– Promise.

A short while after that, dinner was served. The preparation was paused for the day. During dinner, you told your parents about Stanford. Your dad was silent for the most part, only responding with a grumble here and there. Your mom, on the other hand, was very inquisitive in a way that made dread grow in the pit of your stomach.

"Did you know you could also take English here? At Lawrence?"

"Yes, I know, but the program is so much better in Stanford."

"So you're telling me Lawrence is not good enough for you? I went to Lawrence."

"I'm not saying that, Mom. At Stanford, the program is really detailed, and they have so much more to offer."

Your dad decided to chime in.

"It's a useless degree anyway. You were born and raised here with English as your first language."

"There's so much more than that, Dad."

He snorted.

"So much more of my money. It's a waste."

"I promised you I'll pay you back. Besides, your money is for the rent for my first year, not tuition."

If it wasn't for the scholarship, you would have never left this place.

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have a place to live."

Your father's friend from college owned the building, so you got the shared apartment at a much cheaper price. Your rent was covered by your dad since you didn't have a lot of money when you started college.

"No, I wouldn't have. I'm really grateful for your help."

"Thank you. Wasn't that so hard?"

Your sister tried to dissolve the tension in the air, and your parents went with it. The attention was taken off of your shoulders, and you were grateful for it.

You went to your sister's bedroom that night to catch up. You sat next to her on the bed while she lay down with her feet propped up against the wall. Grade 11 was proven to be dull and unexciting in the small town. The conversation eventually reared its head back to your parents.

"How do they treat you here?"

You asked, and Sophie sighed.

"They're not too awful most days."

She looked at you, and you could see the empathy in her eyes.

"I don't understand why they're so hard on you."

You shrugged, looking down at your socks.

"I do. Mom has said it so many times. I'm stubborn; I don't listen to them; I wasn't a good kid growing up …"

"So what? It doesn't mean they get to treat you like this."

"Maybe they do. They just want what's best for me."

"The way they show it is not okay. It shouldn't be like that."

A part of you wanted to agree. You wanted, so badly, to believe that you were a good person. Because a good person deserved good things. And if you were the person your parents had made you think you were, then you deserved nothing at all. You gave your sister a reassuring smile despite the doubt in your head.

"I know."

"I'm sorry. It's unfair."

You brushed it off.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault that they prefer you to me. One of us has to be the favourite."

Sophie gave you an incredulous look, and you shared a laugh. You missed this, talking to your sister about anything. She turned to the side, facing you, and braced herself on her elbow.

"So, tell me about Stanford."

By the arch of her eyebrow, you could tell the conversation was going in the direction you weren't exactly thrilled about.

"It's … good. The campus looks nice, but the course work is a lot."

She rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I'm talking about. Has anyone caught your eye yet?"

Your mind went to Art, and you felt a gentle warmth that felt like a ray of sunshine enveloped your heart. You looked away from your sister briefly before uttering one single word.

"No."

Sophie sat up, pushing into your space.

"I can see right through you. You're such a terrible liar."

You kept your lips sealed.

"Come on, tell me."

There truly was no way of denying Sophie's pleading eyes, so you ended up telling her about Art after a few moments of resistance. You watched her expression change as you wrapped up the story.

"Is he your boyfriend now?"

You realized you had never had that talk.

"We … haven't talked about that yet."

"You obviously like him. Why haven't you asked?"

You shrugged noncomittally.

"I don't know. I think a label is unnecessary."

"What if someone swoops in and takes him from you?"

Sophie snapped her fingers, demonstrating the snatching of Art. You held out a hand.

"Okay, first of all, he's not an object that anyone can take. He doesn't belong to me and vice versa. Second of all, if he is so easily … taken away like that, then he never really likes me to begin with, and I'll be better off without him."

It was an upsetting thought, allowing a tendril of doubt to slither in. Sophie shook her head.

"I don't understand you."

"I just feel like we're not there yet, you know? Whenever I'm with him, I feel … seen. There's no expectation that I have to meet. That's enough for me."

"He'd better appreciate you. You're amazing."

You hugged your sister. She had always seen the best in you despite the doubts you had. You weren't entirely sure you were this amazing person your sister seemed to think you were. Breaking away from the hug, you said.

"Speaking of Art, I promised that I would call him earlier."

"Call him here."

"No."

You shook your head vehemently.

"I want to hear his voice at the very least. You don't even have a picture of him."

"No."

You jumped down from her bed, your finger pressed call on his number. Sophie blocked the door while the phone rang. To your luck, Art picked up after the third ring.

"Hey. I thought you wouldn't call."

Your sister squealed, and you had to put a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

"Who was that?"

You harshly whispered, asking Sophie to shut up. She enjoyed teasing you so much that she left an opening to the door. You slipped past her, but not before she sneaked the last words in.

"He sounds hot."

"Shush."

You held your phone against your chest as you went back to your room.

"Hey, sorry. That was my sister."

"Ahh. How many siblings do you have?"

"Just the one."

Art sounded sleepy on the other end.

"You sound tired."

"It's– uh … 2 AM here."

You remembered the time difference.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. It's only 11 PM where I am right now."

"That's okay. I like hearing your voice."

The honest confession sounded like a dream in the slow drawl of his words. Warmth dusted your cheeks, and at that moment, you wanted to ask Art to be exclusive with you. But it was a question better asked in person, you thought. So you held your tongue.

"I like hearing yours too."

His soft, drowsy sighs caressed your ear, and you couldn't contain your smile.

"But seriously, though, you should go to bed."

Art exhaled again, slow and languid, as if he didn't want the call to end. At last, he said with resignation.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later."

"Later. Good night, Art."

The next two days went by so quickly, with even more preparations and decorations for the 25th. Christmas Day finally came, burdened with anticipation. Uncle Eddie arrived with his wife, and Aunt Donna came by herself. The day was long, but it went by smoothly, and you hoped that it would stay like this for the rest of your time here.

Dinner came, everyone settled down, and the twenty questions game began with your uncle leading it.

"How's Stanford?"

"It's good. I'm really enjoying it."

"What is it that you're studying again?"

"English."

Aunt Donna chimed in.

"Oh. Aren't we all speaking English? Why are you taking it?"

"It's so much more than that. I'm learning the history of American literature, how it'll be shaped, and the cultural intersectionality in liberal arts. Uhm, to name a few."

Your dad decided to weigh in with his opinion.

"In other words, fancy school for useless things."

Uncle Eddie picked up from where he left off.

"What do you want to do after school?"

"I want to be a published author."

Your dad sneered.

"Great, another jobless career."

You were taken aback by your dad's downright brash statement, but you maintained the pleasant attitude you'd practiced.

"It'll be hard, but I want to do it. Or give it a try, at least."

"Writing books is not going to pay your bills. When you fail, you're going to run back here and ask me for more money."

"I'm not there yet, so we shall see, huh?"

Your father fixed his angry gaze on you. His nostrils flared, and you knew you had really pissed him off.

"You went to Stanford for one semester, and you already think you can talk back to your own father? You've forgotten your place. You can be ignorant now, but you'll see that I'm right. You'll regret not studying something that's actually useful."

"I'm not talking back to you. I just want to say that it's my life, and I should be able to live it the way I want to. And I'm very grateful that you even gave me the money for rent."

Your mom cut in.

"Grateful? You sure don't show it. And who do you think gave you that life? I did. I gave birth to you. You wouldn't be here arguing with the very people who care about you if it wasn't for me."

You had heard this argument before. Your mother continued.

"The least you can do is listen to me and take my goddamn advice so you won't end up a useless brat."

Sophie's timid voice pulled at the tension.

"Can we just get back–"

But your mother didn't allow her to finish.

"Do you know how much you cost? How much did we spend on your tutors? Private dance and piano lessons so you would have at least some skills for your future self, just for you to skip classes?"

You tried to defend yourself.

"I was 11. I didn't ask for any of it."

Your mom pressed on.

"Everything we've done is for you. But you never showed us gratitude, not even a thank you. And now, you're off to California on the way to a useless job. You will fail, and when you do, don't come to me or your father, for support."

"I will not ask you."

Your quick remark came with the bitterness that could burst at any moment, and you weren't sure if you could contain it.

"I will not take responsibilities for your failure."

At that, you lost it. Your composure, your calmness, your pleasant attitude. All were sucked out of your body, and the only thing left inside was the aggravated animosity. Its rot was spreading through you like wildfire, and you unleashed your anger. Your voice was booming, reverberating through the dining room.

"I'm not asking you to. I've never asked for any of this!"

"Shut up!"

Your dad roared. You barely dodged the gravy boat he threw at you. The ceramic bowl hit your shoulder, splashing what was left of the gravy onto your arm. The sauce wasn't as hot as it was ten minutes ago, only left a dull burn on your skin, soaking through the holes in your sweater. You sat still, not daring to move, as your body became paralyzed by what had just happened. Your sister immediately got up, only to be shut down by your dad.

"Sit down, Sophie! It's what she gets for being disrespectful."

Your mom added.

"Eat your food, Sophie. Let her think about what she's done. She's ruined dinner. She just had to make everything about her."

Aunt Donna patted your hand where the gravy didn't reach, a patronizing tone dripped in her voice.

"We're just very concerned about your future, dear. No need to yell."

Your mom and dad's voices started to blend together as they continued.

"When you crawl back from California because your dream doesn't work out, don't expect a penny from us."

"How is it that you find our life so beneath you?"

You stared at your plate, willing your tears not to fall. The conversation around you continued in apprehension, with everyone ignoring you. Your sister grabbed your hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. But you didn't have the strength to squeeze back.

You half listened to your surroundings as everything your parents said kept regurgitating like a fire alarm that wouldn't stop screeching long after the fire was gone. Your body went numb, and exhaustion draped over you like a weighted blanket. You only stood up after the adults had left the dining room with their dishes on the table, understandably for you to clean up. Sophie helped you with the task.

"Are you okay? Does it burn?"

You shook your head.

"I'll be fine. It's not that bad."

"It doesn't look fine."

You stopped dead in your movement, and without looking at your sister, you said.

"Sophie. I just want to do the dishes, and then head upstairs. Okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"You don't deserve it."

But what if you did? You received exactly what you needed, a punishment that reminded you of the facts: you were worthless, and your future was bleak and aimless. You avoided answering Sophie, instead directing all of your attention to the dirty dishes.

Later on that evening, after your aunt and uncle had left, you headed to the living room, where your parents were, with an envelope in hand. You held it out to them.

"Here's my actual gift for you."

Your dad reached for it without a word. He opened and counted the bills. Your mom got up and retrieved a familiar notebook before settling down next to your dad.

"$1,227."

Your mom wrote the number into the accounting book. After setting it aside, she stared at you for a long time before finally breaking the silence.

"You embarrassed us today."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For … talking back, and disrespecting you in front of aunt Donna and uncle Eddie."

Your mom thought about it for a moment. You hated this feeling. You knew she knew that she had the advantage, and she was making this as painful as possible.

"Hm. Have you learned nothing?"

"No, I have–"

"Do you know remember what I told you in high school? About our method of discipline?"

"Yes, I do."

"Remind me again?"

You swallowed thickly.

"You said– you said you stopped hitting me because … I was old enough to know better."

"Right. But it seems like you haven't learned anything. You still don't know better. You've always done whatever you want, you don't care about anyone, not even your own parents. Who took care of you whenever you were sick, huh? Who worked tirelessly so that you could have a roof over your head, clothes on your body, food in your stomach? And this is how you repay us?"

Your head dipped in shame.

"I'm sorry. I will do better. What can I do to show you that?"

Your dad hadn't said a word, but the disapproving glare he gave you said everything you already knew.

"You always say that you're sorry but nothing has ever changed. Get out of my sight. You're making my eyes itch."

You retreated to your room, and a moment later, Sophie knocked on your door. Her comforting presence was much needed as you drew into yourself on the bed and tried your hardest not to cry.

"I can't stay here."

"I can ask Shelly–"

You shook your head.

"No, they'll know. I can't stay here. I don't want to. I want to leave."

Sophie slid in next to you and pulled you into her arms.

"Okay, okay. I'll take you to the train station tomorrow."

After putting your clothes back into the suitcase, you sat there in your childhood bedroom, not knowing what else to do. You felt hollow, as if your insides were carved and gutted empty, and you were left with only this shell of a body. The skin where the gravy touched didn't throb as much anymore, leaving only a dull pain. Your heart was aching as if someone had taken hold and crushed it in between their palm. You wanted this feeling to go away, to disappear, so you could forget about it, so it would stop hurting. Overcame with the thought of needing some comfort, you didn't stop to think twice as you reached for your phone and dialled Art's number. You needed to hear his voice, to be reminded of what would be waiting for you when the next semester started. The ring went on and on, and when you thought he wouldn't pick up, he did. You sat up straighter.

"Art. Hi. Merry … Christmas."

The background on his end was noisy. You could hear his name being called.

"Merry Christmas."

It seemed like you had called him at the wrong time.

"Are you … are you at a party?"

"It's not really a party, just a get-together at my house. Patrick is here, and we're drinking this thing that we stole from my dad's liquor cabinet …"

He trailed off as a hiccup filled in the gap.

"It's making my head spin a little, I'm not gonna lie."

"Oh. I'm glad you're having fun."

Your voice dropped, and Art caught onto it even in his inebriated state.

"Are you okay? You sound … sad."

You didn't even realize how obvious it was, so you cleared your throat and responded in a more cheerful tone.

"I'm okay."

Art called your name softly.

"You don't sound okay. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry for bothering you. Bye."

You hung up the phone. Seconds later, Art's call came by, and you watched as it rang and ended. Then, a text message came through.

I'm sorry, I'm a little tipsy to talk right now. I'll call you tomorrow.

You tucked your phone under the pillow, not wanting to look at it anymore. You tried to clear your head and think about something else. Still, your mind insisted on reliving the mistakes after mistakes you had made today. Exhaustion eventually took over, easing you into a fitful sleep.

You left without saying goodbye to your parents the next day. Sophie gave you a ride to the station, and by 5 PM, you were on the train back to Palo Alto. You received a call from Art. Just the sight of his name raised a storm of conflicting emotions in you, but the side that craved his affection overturned the other. You picked up after several rings.

"Hey. Sorry about last night. I didn't know my limit."

"That's okay. I shouldn't have called anyway."

"No, no, I'm glad you called. How was your Christmas?"

"It was fine. Are you preparing to go to the ski resort?"

You kept your voice level, hoping that you didn't give away anything like you did last night.

"Yep. We're heading there tomorrow."

The crackle of the announcement system broke out over your head, notifying you of your final stop. You were about to wish him a good trip, but Art spoke before you could get it out.

"Wait, where are you right now?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, but Art was determined to get it from you.

"Are you going back to Stanford?"

"Sorry, I have to go."

You ended the call. Almost immediately, Art's name appeared on the screen. You declined. Seconds later, he sent you a text.

Pick up. Please.

After shutting down his third call, you turned off your device. You went back to your apartment. It was empty. Your roommates wouldn't be here until school started, so you'd have the whole place to yourself. You felt an immense relief as you finally got to be alone, and you would be for at least another week. You didn't bother unpacking; instead, you headed for your room. After changing into something more comfortable, you crawled under the cover and pulled it to cover your head. Only then you allowed yourself to cry until you couldn't anymore, until the sobs that came out of you were reduced to soundless whimpers. Sleep came easier this time.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! I'd love to read your thoughts on the story!

For updates, please follow @cellophaine-archives

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x f!reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson imagine #challengers #challengers fic #challengers fanfiction #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers x y/n #challengers 2024 #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader

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silverbeamcreations · 4 months ago

Text

When Duty Summons

A DP x DC fanfic by Silverbeam creations aka lunarmushroom on AO3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

AUTHOR NOTE:

I'm new to tumblr and new to fanfic writing styles, so comments, hearts, theories, ideas etc, are helpful in my motivation to write more, and I super appreciate it. Any tips for how tumblr works and any fandom and writing tips are welcome as well. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

‐----------------------

Part 4

"peek a booooo?" murmered Danny quietly as he popped his head through another wall. DAnnys fingers tapped along the wall as he gave the room a look around. empty rusted barrels lay along one wall amidst the dust, trash, and other refuse of the abandoned building. At the obvious lack of life signs danny continued grumbling. 15 minutes into chasing down the summoning spell, all signs had vanished. Once gone he had spent the next couple hours searching the estimated area he guessed was likely a good start and then had expaneded his earch.

score 3 crack heads, 1 elderly homeless man that must have been near deaths door as he seems to sense him even though invisible along with a half dozen rats and vermin and he had come up with squat. Hed taken a break to refocus his approach and refuel. While he made a quick pb and j...a quintiple layer monstrosity for max ghost energy, he couldn't shake the flash of ghost energy he felt before the signal had dissapeared. Such an intense rage, lined with pain and perhaps deep within it a coal of fear, sparking the flames of rage. It nagged at him picking at his core.

He reached over, rolling on his bed to fumble for his phone, sandwich half eaten as he opened a familiar group chat.

Dan da dan man: sooooo little fun fact for today. You know those summoning pings Ive been getting all week? Before they were like nudges but this morning seems like they managed to get the right combo buttons as it almost pulled me in, but I have that important english paper and aint nobody got time for that. So I just said like...No? and it kinda worked except .....

Sam a Lamb sauce: Danny. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?

Tuck Nugget: Do I need to make popcorn or prep the guns?

Sama a Lamb sauce: You don't have any guns after the last ditch and run Tucker.

Tuck Nugget: Hey baby no one can dis-ARM me of these sexies...

(Attached photo of a blurry bicep)

Dan da dan man: lol Nice one Tuck

Sam a Lamb sauce: Tucker I swear at the ancients if you start another pun war I will mail you some of my new snap dragon flowers to eat all your socks.

Tuck Nugget: Jokes on you, I gave up socks for scandalating ankles in crocs!

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Ignoring that...Danny please continue telling us what trouble you have gotten into now?

Da dan dan man: yeah that... well when I managed to slap the summons away it kinda latched onto another ghost instead?

Tuck nugget: Daaaaannnnnyyyyyy noooo....

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Can we just ignore it please?

Dan da dan man: Its just that, when I chased after it, there was this like cry? It keeps nagging at my core... It was full of intense anger but I think at the base it was covering fear and well...

Sam a lamb sauce: Your obsessions not gonna let that one go...alright what can we do to help?

Tuck Nugget: Once a hero always a hero.

Dan da dan man: well the thing is the signal disapeared and I searched like sooo many blocks full of buildings and while im gonna go back out and search more, I thought a little reearch of the area might speed things up.

Sama a lamb sauce: Deep dive into gotham cults and wacko groups. What fun.

Tuck Nugget: Im sure the Local night bats have quite the library of loony death summoning groups to purview...

Sam a Lamb Sauce: oh no you cannot go hacking the batman computer again. I do not want them on our radar.

Dan da dan man: But... they prbably have the most up to date info then what the general web would have. Im sure it will be fine,Tuckers got 1337 skillz.

Tuck nugger: (thumbs up <3 <3 <3 emoji)

Sam a Lamb Sauce: famous last words.

Dan da dan man: Im gonna head out again see if I can comb a few more blocks.

Tuck nugget: RIP your english grade

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Let's hope it's just his english this time.

#silverbeamcreations #fanfiction #dc x dp #dpxdc #a call to summons #fanfic #redhood #danny phantom #summons #drabble

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willalove75 · 2 years ago

Text

Alcina's New Maid. Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

This idea has plagued my mind for almost two weeks and I need to get it out of my head so I can function😅😂

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut.

Notes: This might be a few parts idfk I just need it out of my head NOW 😅😅

Click here for the rest of the series

It's the early hours of the morning, the sun has just risen and you're out in the back tending to the garden. You bring the mornings harvest into the kitchen and greet your aunt and uncle, both sitting down at the small kitchen table.

"Good morning." You say.

"Good morning dear." You aunt says, your uncle grumbles at you. "Are you off to get the children ready for the day?" She says, less asking and more telling you.

"Yes, I was just on my way to take care of them."

"Wonderful."

You walk into the bedroom, three young girls in a deep sleep in their beds. You begin to wake the oldest, Ana, who is about 10, and make your way to the middle and then the youngest, Elena, the youngest in the family at only 4 years old. You help them get dressed and send them down for breakfast, you make your way into the other bedroom where the two twin boys are still fast asleep. You wake them up, dress them and accompany them into the kitchen. You prepare their food and serve each child, you try your best to personalize each meal for each child, although your family is not wealthy by any means, you make do with what you have.

Once the children are fed and the kitchen is restored to its usual state, you bring them outside as you sweep the cobblestone path leading up to the house. The children are running around in the yard and in the street, kicking up dirt and rocks as kids do. As you're sweeping you hear the bells, you drop your broom and rush over to the children and begin to quickly usher them into the house.

The bells are only rung when the Lady of the castle comes through the village in her carriage. You've never seen her before, but you've heard rumors of her ruthlessness, many of those brought into her castle are never to be seen again. To avoid her, or her daughters, who are rumored to be worse than the Lady herself, the townspeople ring bells throughout the village to signal her arrival. All of the villagers rush inside and lock their doors, fearful that if the Lady or her daughters even see you, you will be whisked away, never to be seen again.

You hear the stomps of hooves a short distance away as you try and wrangle the children and get them inside, one by one they enter the house and you realize you're missing one. Fear shoots through you as you look into the road and see Elena, bending down in the road, picking up the rock she was playing with. You see the carriage, mutant-like horses pulling it, hurdling towards the child. Before you realize it, you're sprinting towards her, just before she's trampled you dive into the road and knock her out of the way, the two of you tumbling away from the carriage. The horses rear, bringing the carriage to a halt. You scramble and scoop the child into your arms, cradling her close to your chest as you sit in the dirt.

"Oh Elena," you say breathlessly, "are you hurt?"

Aside from a few scrapes, she is fine, but more scared then hurt and begins to cry.

"Shh, you're okay." You whisper to her.

You were so focused on Elena, you didn't realize someone emerged from the carriage until you see the hem of a cream dress and black stilettos standing just a few short feet in front of you. You slowly follow the dress up with your eyes, by the time you expect to reach the face of the person in front of you, you realize your eyes are only up to their waist. You strain your neck up and finally reach the top of the woman in front of you, her face shielded by a shadow cast by her large hat. You wrap your arms around Elena tighter as you're frozen by fear, realizing you're sitting at the feet of the Lady herself. Her one hand draped across her chest, her elbow resting on her arm with a long cigarette holder sitting between her two fingers, a lit cigarette sitting on the end of it.

"And what do we have here?" Her sultry voice taking you by surprise.

You sit there, still frozen in fear, your throat suddenly dry.

"I do not have the patience today to be ignored." She says, leaning down towards you. Piercing yellow eyes emerge from the shadow as she moves.

"I- I am so sorry Lady." You say bowing your head. "The child- she- she's just a child." You say with a shaking voice, your arms wrapped tightly around Elena as you try and hold back tears of fear.

The Lady says nothing, you can feel her eyes burning into you as she stares.

"Please," you say as you sheepishly look up at her. "Please don't hurt her."

She stands up straight and the shadow covers her face again. She says nothing for a moment and then speaks.

"And what if I want to?" She says, her voice sending chills down your spine.

"Hurt me instead, whatever you want to do to her, do to me instead, please, I beg you, don't harm her."

You hear her smirk, even though you can't see her eyes you know they haven't moved off of you.

"Is she your child?" She asks.

"No ma'am, she is my cousin."

"And you would be wiling to die for you, cousin?" She asks as if she's more surprised at who you would be willing to sacrifice your life for than the fact that you're willing to sacrifice your life at all.

"Yes ma'am, my purpose is taking care of them, if anything were to happen to them, I would never be able to live with myself."

"Your purpose?" She asks.

"Yes ma'am. I serve no other purpose than to take care of the children, without them, my life has no meaning." You say sincerely. Since your aunt and uncle took you in, you've taken care of the children, you have no job, you're not suitable for marriage, you truly believe that the only purpose you have in your life is to care for them.

"How pitiful." She says. You look away and stroke Elena's hair, still trying your best to comfort the terrified child. The Lady bends down, you look up and she brings her hand to your chin, you close your eyes, terrified that she's just going to kill you where you sit. You feel a soft gloved finger under your chin, she lifts your face and you open your eyes and look at her, a shadow still mostly covering her face. "Pitiful that such a beautiful maiden is nothing but a servant for children. Children that aren't even hers."

Taken back, you stare at her, you know what you heard her say, but your brain cannot process it. "Beautiful? Did she call me beautiful?" You think to yourself.

"Tell me draga, where do you live?"

"Just across the way." You gesture to the small house behind her.

"And who cares for you?"

"I- I live with my aunt and uncle." You say, unsure of why she's asking you these questions.

"Bring me to them."

You nod your head and stand up with Elena still clinging to you. You walk past the cart and take notice of a buzzing noise coming from the inside.

"Girls," you hear the Lady quietly growl to the cart as she walks past. "Behave."

The buzzing quiets and you walk up to the house, your aunt and uncle standing at the door with horror on their faces.

"Oh Elena." You aunt says as she takes the girl from your arms and carries her inside.

You stop at the door and turn and look at the woman, unsure of what to do next, she stands taller than the ceilings inside, you don't think she'd be able to fit.

"Well are you going to invite me in?" She says, looking down at you.

"Yes, of course." You say and make your way inside.

"Girls." The Lady says and turns towards the carriage.

A massive swarm of flies emerges from the carriage and three girls emerge, all dressed in black robes, one with blood stains on her cheeks. The Lady removes her hat and hands it to one of them.

"Stay here." She commands them.

"Yes mother." They reply in unison.

She bends down and enters the house, kneeling on the floor inside. Finally able to see her face, you're almost taken back at her beauty, her inky black hair curled and held in place with pins, her blood red lipstick, glowing yellow eyes, you're less afraid and more fascinated. She looks over at you and sees you looking at her, you quickly look down as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"How may we help you Lady?" Your aunt politely asks, a little afraid.

"Your niece," she says gesturing to you. "She tells me the only purpose she serves is caring for your children, is that correct?"

"That's all she's good for." You uncle says.

She slowly turns her head and glares in his direction.

"And why is that?"

"She has no skills, she's an orphan with nothing to her name so she's not suitable for marriage, no man will have her, and besides being a burden, all she can do is care for the children."

You look down at your feet as your uncle speaks, although you've heard those words your whole life, they still sting. The Lady purses her lips.

"An orphan?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Her parents, my sister and her husband, perished in a fire when she was a child." You aunt says, you hear the three girls outside of the door giggle. "Our only choices were to take her in or-" she pauses and doesn't finish her sentence, everyone knows what she would have said, all orphans are sent to the Lady's castle.

"I see." She looks back over at you, you keep your eyes on the floor. "Well, if she is such a burden, I will gladly take her off of your hands." You look up at her with fear in your eyes.

"And who will care for our children?" Your uncle asks with anger in his voice.

"You're their father, are you not?" She snaps at him, he doesn't speak but he still has anger in his eyes. "If losing her will be an inconvenience, I will pay you handsomely for your troubles. Much more than a marriage proposal would fare." She laughs as she finishes her sentence.

"How much are we talkin'?" You uncle asks.

"Uncle!" You say in disbelief, you know he was never fond of you, but you never thought he would sell you, especially to her.

"Silence you wench! You have no say in this matter." He shoots daggers in your direction. You look at your aunt, tears filing your eyes, she looks away from you, not able to look you in the eyes.

The Lady's glare becomes more intense as she watches him reprimand you. She turns and looks at the girls out of the corner of her eye.

"Girls, my bag please."

"Yes mother." One of them says, disappearing into a swarm of flies, they fly over to the carriage and return, the girl emerging from the swarm with a large, leather purse in her hands. She hands it to the Lady and she pulls out a large pouch, handing it to your uncle.

"That would be half. I shall have one of my maids bring you the other half in a few days."

You uncles eyes light up as she drops the bag in his hands, it looked so small in hers, but easily fills both of his hands.

"Deal." He says, his eyes not leaving the large pouch in his hands.

"Uncle please," you beg.

"Enough, pack your things." He says.

You run into your room and lean against the door, tears falling down your cheeks, trying to stop the hyperventilating. You hear a small knock on the door, you take a deep breath and turn to open it, you aunt and Elena are standing there.

"How could you let him do this?" You say through tears. "She's going to kill me. You're sending me away to my death."

"I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do." She says, her eyes watery. You were never particularly close with either your aunt or uncle, you were always looked at as lesser than them. Although your aunt was kinder than your uncle was, maybe because you looked so much like your mother, regardless, neither of them seemed to care much for you.

"Don't go y/n." Elena says, tears in her eyes. You lean down and hug her.

"I'm sorry love, but I have to. I don't want to leave you, but I have to." Her little hands grab at your dress and you hold her close.

You aunt pulls Elena off of you and you pack your things. You don't own much, so everything fits into a small bag. You walk back out into the living room, your hands gripping the bag, trying your hardest to stop them from trembling.

"My Lady," you aunt says, breaking the silence. You uncle stares daggers at her, while the Lady looks at her curious of what she's going to say. "What can we do to ensure her safety? I- I don't want harm to come to her."

The Lady laughs, her deep laugh shakes the walls of the house, a terror fills your chest.

"You have my word, no harm will come to her." She says as she caresses your cheek with one of her gloved fingers. "And I am a woman of my word."

Her touch sends shives down your spine, the corners of the Lady's mouth curl as she feels the effect she has on you.

"Say your goodbyes. We must be going."

You turn and hug each child, you get to Ana and hold her tightly.

"Take care of them, okay?" You gently say. She nods her head with tears in her eyes and hugs you.

You get to Elena and you wrap your arms around her and kiss her head.

"I love you, please listen to Ana, okay? For me?"

She cries and nods her head, burying her face into your dress.

"Be brave." You say gently.

"I'm scared." She cries into you.

"I'm scared too," you say, looking into her eyes, "But we have to be brave when we're scared, when we have to do things we don't want to. Okay?"

She nods her head and hugs you again.

"I love you y/n."

"I love you too Lena."

The Lady clears her throat and you take a deep breath and let go of the child. You wipe her tears away and kiss her on the head again. You stand up and hug your aunt and turn towards the lady and nod your head.

"And what? You don't have anything to say to me?" You uncle says angerly. "You ungrateful, useless-" he stands up and walks towards you, the Lady reveals one of her sharp, long claws and puts it to his neck. You all gasp and your aunt tries to cover the children's eyes.

"I surely hope you treat your daughters better than that." She growls. She must have put the fear of the Black God into your uncle because for the first time in your life, he's silent, and terrified. She retracts the claw and looks at you.

"Let's go."

She backs out of the door and takes her hat from the girl holding it and places it back on her head. You follow her out the door and she leads you into the carriage. You look back at the place you called home once more and wave to the kids before climbing in. The Lady climbs in next to you, the carriage leaning to the side as she gets in. A massive swarm of flies enters the carriage and the three girls appear across from you.

"Oh mother she looks fun!" One of them says.

"Oh yes, mother can we play with her? Please?"

The third one grabs your arm, staring intently on the cut you got when you were saving Elena.

"She smells delicious mother, can we have a small taste? Please?" She begs.

"Girls, enough." She commands, the three girls immediately falling silent, the one releasing your arm. "She is going to be one of my new personal maids." She says, looking over at you, you feel her eyes on you and you keep your eyes on the floor.

The girls giggle and begin to chat amongst themselves. You hear whispers of them talking about a dungeon, who they were planning on taking down to it, whispers of hunting, you try your best to keep your nerves under control but the Lady seems to pick up on them immediately.

"No need to be afraid," she says looking down at you. "As long as you're obedient and you behave, you will never have to experience the dungeon, or worry about any of them." She says gesturing to the girls. She gently pats your leg, her hand can practically wrap around your entire thigh. The thought sends chills down your spine and you look out the window to distract yourself from thinking about it.

You reach the castle and you look out the window in amazement, you've never seen it up this close before, it's as breathtaking as it is ominous. You get out of the carriage and Lady Dimitrescu leads you inside.

"I presume you know how to clean, and well given you've watched after so many children for so many years?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, I will introduce you to the head maid and she will give you your assignment and a uniform. You start tomorrow morning, I suggest you clean yourself up and get a good nights rest tonight." She says, eyeing the dirt stains on your dress from earlier.

"Yes ma'am."

She leads you into the kitchen and introduces you to the head maid. She excuses herself and you're lead to the maids quarters, you're shown your small room, although it's still bigger than the room you had at your aunt and uncles house. You're given fresh uniforms and the head maid hands you a sheet with your duties.

"You will begin in the library tomorrow morning, I will show you around for the first few days, but after that you must remember where to go on your own. It is also very important that you do not, under any circumstances, enter the Lady's study or chambers without her explicit request, understand?"

"Yes." You say, looking over the list of chores.

"I can't tell you how many new maids I've lost due to them wandering in there, either on accident or to snoop around. Do not do it. Understand?"

"Yes. Understood." You say, looking up at her.

She leaves and you shower and put on the clean pajamas that were left in your wardrobe. You lay down in bed, surprised at how comfortable it is, and before you know it, you're asleep.

You wake the next morning and put on your uniform and pull your hair back. You grab your supplies and meet the head maid. She gives you a quick tour as she leads you to the library, you do your best to remember which room is which. You make sure you engrain into your mind which room is the Lady's study and which is her chambers so you never accidentally end up in there. You get to the library and the head maid leaves you to work. You look over your list, you have to dust, polish, return any stray books, sweep and mop the floors. The library is large, but you figure the floors are going to take the longest. You begin by putting away any books you see laying around, carefully replacing them to their correct spot.

You hear a faint buzz across the room and the sound of giggles, it's incredibly unsettling, but you do your best to ignore it and keep working. You hear books falling to the floor, the sound echoing across the room and it startles you. You walk towards the sound, the closer to the mess you get, the louder the buzzing gets. Out of the corner of your eye you see movement and turn around, you see one of the daughters giggle.

"Oopsies." She says, covering her mouth as she laughs and disappears into a swarm of flies.

You kneel down and pick up the books and return them to their shelves. "Well, it's not much more different than dealing with the kids at home." You think to yourself.

Once the mess is cleaned you return to dusting and polishing. As you're cleaning you hear the shrill laughter of the girls as they buzz through the castle, although much more frightening than the laughter of children, you quickly get used to the sounds and eventually you don't even notice it.

You hear the laughter enter the library and you do you best to keep focused on the floors. You hear footsteps behind you and you turn to see the three girls, the redhead running up to you and getting right into your face, examining you closely.

"Daniela please, let the girl do her work." The blond says.

"Get out of the way!" The brunette says, pushing the read head away. "I want to get a closer look at her." She says looking you up and down. "Oh I bet you taste sweet," she says, licking her lips. "I would love to get just a little taste." She holds up a sickle. "Just a little taste."

"Cassandra mother will kill you if you lay a finger on her." The blond reprimands her.

"Ugh." She says lowering the sickle. "You always ruin the fun Bela, I wanted to make her squirm!"

The girls still tower over you a bit, you don't even notice the smile that crossed your face as they bickered, reminding you of the kids you practically raised.

"What are you smiling at?" Bela says, looking at you curiously.

"Oh, nothing, sorry." You say as you look down. "You guys just reminded me of the kids a little, that's all."

"Oh, were they bad?" Cassandra asks with wild eyes.

"No, not at all, they were amazing."

"Well that's no fun." The Daniela says. "I can't wait to see what mother has in store for you."

You look at her, unsure of what she meant.

"Oh Daniela hush, you don't even know what mother wants with her." Bela says.

"All I know is that if she ever brings you down to the dungeon, I want to be there so I can get a taste of you." Cassandra says, licking her lips.

"Do you know why mother paid to bring you here?" Bela asks.

"Honestly, no. I have no idea." You say.

The three girls look at you curiously, none of them seeming to know the answer themselves.

"Well, it was lovely talking to you girls, but I really should get back to cleaning, I wouldn't want to fall behind on my first day and anger the Lady." You say.

The three girls look up and giggle and disappear in a swarm of flies.

"I should be offended that you would think it takes so little to anger me." You jump when you hear the voice behind you.

"Oh, Lady Dimitrescu, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were there." You stutter. "I didn't- that's not what I-" You fumble with your words, trying to save yourself.

She chuckles. "Oh draga, I am not offended. Not this time."

"Oh," you look down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you."

She steps away and takes a seat on one of the chairs near you and crosses one of her long legs over the other.

"Is there anything I can do for you ma'am?" You ask, your eyes still focused on the floor.

"You are allowed to look at me dear." She says.

You look up and she leans forward, your eyes go to her massive chest as she leans forward, her dress perfectly showing off her impressive breasts. You immediately snap your eyes up, hoping she didn't notice. Her lips curl into a smile, "damnit. She noticed." You think to yourself. She sits back into the chair and opens the book you never noticed in her hand.

"There is nothing I need from you draga, not yet." Her yellow eyes feel like they're piercing your soul. "Please, continue, don't allow me to distract you from your work." She smiles at you and you shyly smile back.

"Oh, okay. Well, if you do need anything, please let me know." You say.

She turns her attention to her book and you go back to finishing sweeping the floors.

As you're cleaning you swear you catch her watching you, you try to focus on doing the best job you possibly can even though your nerves are extremely heightened at her presence.

You finally finish in the library, you look around and realize that Lady Dimitrescu is no longer in her chair, you didn't notice that she left, you're not entirely sure how long it had been since she left, but you're grateful that you were able to do a good enough job where she didn't say anything.

You gather your things and head back to your quarters to look for the head maid to see if there's anything else you needed to do since it was only the afternoon. To her surprise, there was nothing left for you to do so you had the rest of the day to yourself. You showered, changed into a new outfit and hung out in your room until dinner.

Once dinnertime came you made your way to the kitchen and got in line to eat. You could tell there was a pecking order amongst the maids, made up between the highest-ranking ones and the ones who have been here longest. You did your best to not step on anyone's toes as you waited in line. You could tell there were cliques among the maids, you tried to make yourself as invisible as possible as you tried to find an open seat with your tray in your hands. You notice a maid stuck her foot out to try and trip you, you carefully walked around her and avoid looking at her as you pass.

"You think you're better than me?" You hear someone say.

You had no idea who they were taking to, but you didn't think they were talking to you so you kept walking.

"You, new girl." You hear her say. You turn around and realize she was talking to you. "You think you're better than me?" She asks, anger in your eyes.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were talking to me. But, no, I don't not at all." You say.

She walks up to you and smacks your tray out of your hand, your meal scattering across the floor.

"Know your place bitch." She growls at you. "Now clean up the mess." She says as she walks back to her seat.

Stunned, you stand there for a second before cleaning up what was going to be your dinner. You look over and realize that there wasn't much left and you head back to your room. You lay in bed, your stomach growling. "How was it easier to deal with the three girls than it is dealing with the other maids?" You ask yourself. You finally roll over and fall asleep, hoping there won't be any more issues with the other maids.

The next few weeks are about the same, the one maid knocking at least half of your meals out of your hand. You eventually figure out when she gets to the kitchen for meals and try to get in before she does so you can actually eat, it angers her, but you do your best to ignore her. You have more run-ins with the girls, they seem fascinated by you, and you couldn't help but be a little fascinated with them too. Lady Dimitrescu pops up a few times throughout each week in whatever room you're working in, it strikes you as odd, but you try not to think too much of it. You can't imagine that she has time to visit every maid as frequently as she sees you.

You were eventually given the task to take care of requests that the girls ask of you, although they really didn't ask for too much. You removed blood stains from their dresses, cleaned and polished their weapons, usually their sickles, helped them remove blood stains from carpets their mother specifically asked them to not get blood on, the usual, at least the usual for this castle.

One day you're cleaning the main stairway, leading from the foyer to the second floor. You hear the usual buzzing and giggles and you smile as the girls run amuck through the castle. A swarm of flies appears in font of you and Daniela appears.

"Y/n, I need your help!"

"What's up Daniela?"

"You have to tell Cassandra that I'm less messy than she is. She doesn't believe me!"

"Daniela, respectfully, I am not getting in the middle of whatever you and Cassandra have going on today. Plus, it's not nice to lie." You say with a smile.

You hear a laugh from the second floor and you look up to see Lady Dimitrescu staring down at the two of you from the balcony. Your cheeks turn red as you return your attention to your work.

"Ugh!! Mother! Make her tell Cass!" Daniela whines.

Lady Dimitrescu descends the stairs towards the two of you.

"She's right Daniela, it is not nice to lie."

Daniela bursts into a swarm of flies and angerly storms away and you try and hide the smile on your face.

"You're very good with the girls, I know they can be," she pauses for a moment to carefully pick her words. "A handful."

"They're not so bad, plus, they're like any other siblings, they all bicker the same, just over different things."

She smiles at you and gently hums as she walks down the stairs past you. You pause for a second to listen, you never realized she was able to sing, no less had such a beautiful voice.

"What else is on your to-do list today?" She asks as she reaches the bottom of the steps.

"Once I finish the stairs I just have to dust and mop the hall up here."

"And you are off tonight, correct?" She asks.

"Yes, my next night shift is tomorrow night."

"Delightful, I am going to need your assistance tonight."

"Oh, uh, yes of course."

"Meet me in my chambers after dinner."

You freeze for a second and look down at her, she looks up at you with a smirk on her face.

"In your, uh, chambers?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No ma'am. I'll be there."

"Excellent."

She walks away and you take a deep breath. You continue the stairs and try to finish as quickly as you can while still doing a thorough job.

Once you finish you shower and change into a fresh uniform, you hurry to the kitchen and quickly grab your food and eat before the maid that has it out for you throws your dinner across the kitchen. Luckily you're able to finish by the time she shows up, she sees you cleaning up your plate and she shoots daggers at you. You have no idea why she seems to have it out for you, but you try your best to ignore and avoid her. You go to leave the kitchen and she goes out of her way to walk past you with her tray in her hands. You look forward and try to ignore her, as you pass you feel a sharp pain across your arm and you yelp and put your hand over you arm only to realize you're bleeding. You turn to look at the maid and you see her turn her kitchen knife back in.

"Oops. Sorry." She says sarcastically.

You hurry to your room and wrap a bandage around your arm, you realize you have a little blood on your dress but you don't have time to change. You rush out of your room and make your way to the Lady's chambers.

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #willalove75 #wlw fanfic

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