#I didn’t have the heart to tell him the best drugs are already legal

[cryptidscorvidsandcoffee]

Living in Portland is fucking crazy man I walked outside and there was a guy in seven inch heels and a mink fur coat handing out pamphlets for his plan to legalize all drugs.

[arl3kinka]

Hello :D do you have any p1 Dude headcanons?

hi hi.

oh boy, I thought I had a few, but after I sat down to write them just realized I might have a bit too much more than what I’ve expected, haha.

POSTAL 1 DUDE; headcanons

first of all! some headcanons make reference of how he was before the first game, so trying to apply them to the guy who’s terrified, sitting on the floor while hugging his gun would be pretty useless

also, if instead of a hyphen there’s a star it’s to address DID in Dude (I don’t have DID myself and I’m not close to somebody who has DID, all I know is from research I’ve done myself, so if there’s something wrong please tell me.

if you’re not into the DID idea just ignore the stars.

anyway, here we go:

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— Before what happened in 1997 I think he was still a disaster, but a bit more functional.

I’m not gonna dig a lot into how he was while growing up, but he’s an only child that comes from a christian yet dysfunctional family, so after he finally had enough saved money and the legal age he moved to another city (not Paradise) to start again and never looked back, probably with a bit of help coming from Uncle Dave, the only family member that cared about him.

★ P2’s been with him since he was a kid/pre-teen. P1 doesn’t really knows who or what P2 is and at first is pretty much afraid, thinking he’s a demon of some kind. But after a while and seeing how he stands up for him (when he’s unable to defend himself, make friends, etc) and he’s not really trying to harm him he relaxes for a bit.

— He’s always been pretty much a loner, but not to the point to isolate himself completely. He had a tiny group of friends who were also as ���weird” as he was who were also into the alternative/goth subculture. Those were probably the best years of his life.

But still, following the last point, I also think he’s one of those people that when they feel bad they isolate themselves for some time and then come back like nothing happened. It usually worked, until it didn’t.

— I have no idea of where I readed I don’t know if it was the Wiki, TV Tropes, in a reddit comment or somewhere else but I think that during the development of “Postal” the Postal Dude was around 27 years old. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ll go with that.

And, to add some more flavor, I don’t remember if it was Tumblr or Reddit, but somebody had the headcanon that the 14 of November, the day the first game begins, it’s also the Postal Dude’s birthday.

I can’t remember who had such a good idea but I love it way too much, I love angst with all my heart so now it’s my headcanon too.

(if I see the original headcanon again I’ll give credits to the person)

— [ tw // mentions of drugs ] Definitely smokes both cigarettes and weed, but the last one just from time to time. Has tried acid or mushrooms but rather stick to weed.

He hasn’t done crack or anything too heavy, not before 1997.

— He has little to no idea of how to cook. He can do some basic stuff to survive, and he has tried following a recipe in the past, but it’s definitely not his best . Not like he enjoys it either.

— His body: pretty tall. He has a bit of a complex with his height, finding clothes of his size can be complicated and it’s a bit awkward too.

His body is a bit built (he does some work out because of the idea that somebody can attack him at any moment is enough to make him try to learn some self defense alone in his room). Compared to P2 he's has more corporal mass, but not as much as P3 would have. He's an in between. Not skinny but not fat either.

He’s also pretty pale. Not because he can’t get tanned or anything, but because he would rather go out when the sun is already setting or during night or, in general, prefers to stay at his house.

In general he’s one of those people you see on the street and catch your attention: it’s not always that you see a really tall guy with long ginger hair.

— He doesn’t cut his hair because he likes how it looks on him but also because he’s too lazy (and anxious) to go to a hairdresser. He sometimes cuts it himself, and since he has no idea there have been times it ends up disastrous, but since I think his hair is a bit wavy it doesn’t look really bad.

He also doesn’t maintains it really well, he only uses shampoo and, maybe, one of those 3 in one bottles and that’s all. If it’s really cold he dries it with the hairdryer, but rarely does so.

— His handwriting is HORRIBLE. Not like if it’s like hieroglyphics, you can read it, but it’s just really ugly (the diary/war journal entries is how he writes, but since he was pretty stressed and scared it’s a bit more agitated). Also makes too much pressure, not to the point of ripping of the paper but you can feel it on the other face of the sheet surface if you brush it with your hand.

Likes to write for himself, it’s therapeutic and the best way to cope, the less harmful to himself too.

— Following the last point he also likes to make some doodles, especially when bored. Nothing too serious though, the typical thing you do when you’re in class bored and you only have a pen in hand and a paper. You’ll see plenty of them that decorate his notes and diaries. They’re a bit chaotic, his traces being a bit messy.

— If he was accepted in RWS he might have some knowledge about the videogame industry or related. Not sure of what, probably graduated in some studies about it. Maybe a programmer? I dunno.

— Definitely neurodivergent. Either autistic or ADHD. Or both.

His main interests being weapons, movies and videogames. Predilect genres? Terror and horror. He’s not much of a reader though.

On a side note, easily overwhelmed with people he’s not close with touching him (or in general, he’s not opposed to it but would rather if the other person asked for permission) and large crowds, and the main reason he wears he started wearing sunglasses it’s because sensitivity to bright lights.

Still, he’s undiagnosed so he has no clue why he’s like that and why can’t he be normal, sometimes thinking he’s a bit dramatic. His group of friends also had other neurodivergent people who he could rely on so he didn’t feel that bad after all.

— He hated going to clubs for that same reason, even the more alt ones. Too much noise and people. He probably went there because of his friends and enjoyed it for a little while, but would’ve rather been doing anything else.

★ P2 liked it more than him, so when they made plans with their friends he was the one who was in control most part of the time.

— He’s the kind of person that I think would listen to pretty much everything, but definitely his favorite genre is hard rock and metal and its sub-genres: goth metal, black metal, grunge, industrial, you name it. Maybe nu metal it’s not really his thing.

Still, he jams pretty much everything so you could catch him singing a Spicegirls song and he would deny it with his life.

★ It’s in fact P2 who prefers nu metal and wouldn’t care what he’s listening to. Would probably tease P1 about it though.

P2: “You’re listening to Madonna? I thought you didn’t liked pop”

P1: “...shut it”

p2: “Whatever you say edgelord… "LIKE A VIRGIN JUST, LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME- ♪"”

— He’s bisexual, but still in the closet and pretty deep in there. He has done a few things with other guys but nothing too serious or further than making out probably. Partly because he has some internalized homophobia from the family he comes from (in himself! would never judge or care is one of his close ones was in the queer community) and because generally he sucks at dating.

★ Again, P2 is more open about it than him, and probably the one who had those interactions with other guys, but since P1 was not really uncomfortable with the subject he never went too far.

P2 tried to talk to him about it, but P1 just refuses.

— Also, how did I forgot to mention this? Religious trauma.

Now, he has a weird relationship with his christianity and beliefs, his morals, and how he views himself since he was teached to be a good christian, and he kinda wants to be good at the eyes of God, but at the same time he’s into too many stuff his parents told him they were satanic and bad. He has mixed emotions about it, it’s like he wants to let it go, but he’s unable to do so.

To him the cross he carries around his neck is not for the aesthetic, but he’s not because he’s a good christian either. And when he’s feeling at his worst? It’s like a dog collar, reminding him how all the trauma his family beliefs have harmed him, but at the same time he cannot let it go for some reason. It’s like an abusive relationship both with himself and with his religion, if he even believes in it. It’s complicated to understand? He’s just as confused as you are.

Maybe the problem it’s not the religion itself, maybe it was his family and now because of them he can’t really feel comfortable praying (even if he sometimes finds himself doing so on the nights of rough days) or having a normal relationship with his christianity. Whatever it is, he’s traumatized.

★ And P2 doesn't helps either. He just does not cares about it and when he sees P1 having a breakdown about it, knowing how hard the subject is for him, just prefers to not to get involved, because, anyways, what can he do to help him? He just does not know either, it’s something he has to resolve himself. He cannot help him in everything.

P1 sometimes has called P2 a demon during his attacks, and even if he just ignores it it’s true that it can get annoying after all the times he has tried to help him, and every time they had a fight about it P1 ended up worse, so P2 decided to not get involved any more time for that too.

— I think he’s both shy and introverted, but don’t misinterpret me; not shy in a cute bean who gets all nervous and blushy. No. More in the staring at the person like if he was a deer in front of the lights of a car type of shyness, trying not to get too nervous, and after a few seconds he responds to whatever that person said or asked, hoping it wasn’t too cringy or awkward. He usually gets like that when he’s interested in a person (doesn’t matter if it’s platonic or romantic) and doesn’t want them to get weirded out by him

More introverted than shy, that’s for sure.

— If he’s having a good day his neutral face just looks tired, in his worst I doubt anybody would be able to get to see him because in those days he locks himself in his house and refuses to go out, but if it’s the case (probably the clerk of a shop because he ran out of food) it’s a mix of anger and fear (mainly due paranoia and hallucinations, trying to put and angry face to make the others don’t bother him).

— He could be INFJ (Ni Fe Ti Se) or INTJ (Ni Te Fi Se). If that was the case I think it would be due to Se grip.

I could go more into details because I really enjoy MBTI and see how its functions work on fictional characters.

★ Not the same as P2 of course, but that's a story for another day.

— Pretty much stoic, but on the inside? A mess of emotions he does not know how to untangle correctly. He can get emotional when he’s alone, but that’s a part nobody would ever see of him. He’s not going to let anybody see him in such a vulnerable and weak state.

— Now, returning to the main point. I could really go into details of what or why I think it could have happened for him to literally go postal, but I think the main point is that he moved to Paradise trying to escape from his life. And you may ask “but you said those were the happiest years of his life!” yep, completely, but there can be a few things that alone could have been bad but tolerable, but too many of them make them unbearable: maybe he distanced himself from his friends, had to move somewhere cheaper because of money, his mental health going downhill, etc.

The thing is, he moved to Paradise, and it was probably his worst mistake.

Uncle Dave lived there, that’s why he chose that city, but even with that he had almost no contact with him besides the first few days? He was on his own, alone again.

— Ironically, I think he actually worked for a post office. It’s the only job he could find.

— Both his physical and mental state got way worse. He’s never been a really healthy person, but still tried to take care of himself at least a bit. Going out only when heavily necessary and, after a while, not even going to work anymore. That's when he really ran out of money and got the terrifying letter: he got evicted of his “safe place”. Was his house even a safe place at this point? He couldn’t feel safe anywhere anymore.

He could have called Uncle Dave, but at this point? He was just so disconnected with reality he didn’t know what to do.

★ P2 saw him fall and had no idea of what to do at this point. He was tired of trying to help him so he just ignored. P1 felt so bad that, even if he find P2 annoying at times it was the last thing he needed, the last familiar thing he had disappeared hurts him to the core.

— [ tw // mentions of self-harm ] Even if writing in his journal really helped him to calm down during bad days it doesn’t mean he didn’t do other more harmful things to himself when he was at his worst. Before moving to Paradise he handled it better, he was able to tone it down pretty much since he moved from his parent’s house, but after everything got so overwhelming again? He doesn’t know any better. And the worst part of it? Finds it both comforting and thinks that he deserves all this suffering. For everything. For moving away from his parents, maybe they were right after all. For being a bad christian, God, if he hasn’t done it already, would probably turn his back the day he has to pass Heaven's gates. For after being so happy and having friends and thinking he was getting better and how he throwed all out the windows. It’s all his fault, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything, not even therapy, and cannot call his friends. Nothing. The world’s still going on without him. He just feels like when he was a kid, but worse.

★ And here’s where he appears: the Other Dude (to me not the same as P3). He’s shows him his most intrusive thoughts, those who make him feel sick. OD slowly persuaded him to do horrible things not to himself, but the others. He’s twisted and manipulated everything, every little hope he had. P1 confused P2 with OD at this point, and was the one who made P1 get out of his house after a really long time, but with a gun in his hand, ready to kill everybody who made him feel so miserable and worthless. At this point he’s just gone.

At first, ironically, P2 tried to get in the middle of it, a bit confused of what or who OD was. Why he was so similar to himself? How long has he been there? But even OD persuaded him at some point.

Both P1 and P2 were tired of the way they were living and feeling. So why not change it?

I’m not sure who’s the one who got out of the house ready to cause a massacre, if P1, P2 or OD, but the thing is they all agreed at some point.

— I know this is going to be a bit weird, but I don’t think the whole game stages are real? It sounds weird, but let me explain: you really think a guy who has been locked inside his house for so long, having horrible hallucinations, almost no sleep (and if he had any, probably full of nightmares), not taking care of himself is really going to go too far? It does not matter how many weapons he may carry, it’s practically impossible.

Maybe the first 2 or 3 stages, but not much more before the police/militars/whoever it was got him at some point. The others only happened in his head, his mind going ahead of him, overthinking, and lately, his guilt getting over him.

By this I’m not saying he’s less of a horrible person, he did what he did and it’s sickening, it does not matter how bad he was feeling, killing people who have nothing to do with you and your problems is not the answer. Even if they were the cause, it’s not the solution.

— Leaving aside that all the “Postal” games are usually a parodies of real life and black humor (asides from the first game and “Postal Redux”) and taking it for something more serious, I don’t think “Postal Dude” it’s the name of the Postal Dude.

It was a nickname given both by the survivors of the massacre and the media.

— Also, after what he did he was everywhere. In the newspapers, in the TV, in the radio. That’s how Uncle Dave and the group of friends he had back in the city he lived before found out. But how could he? He was such a nice, quiet guy… he wouldn’t hurt a fly!

His group of friends, who since he moved without saying anything, didn’t pick up their calls and in general ignored them and decided it was for the best to just let it be.

Uncle Dave, on the other side he was worried. What the hell happened during all those years they were separated? It couldn’t be something he decided overnight, there had to be something more, right?

— He got his hair shaved at the asylum. After that he didn’t had it that long in his whole life.

— He got locked in the asylum, and being locked in there, alone again with his thoughts, it was dead of him. Metaphorically speaking.

★ P1 went dormant, refusing to think of what he has done, or at least accepted to do. He couldn't take all that blame, it was impossible. Every time he remembers it he wants to puke. He now really want to be dead. There’s no way he can redeem himself from that, God definitely has abandoned him. OD also disappeared. He just provoked all of this and now what? He accomplished what he wanted, where is he? He bring out the worst part of P1, was he trying to corrupt him and breaking him was not in the plan or was the plan breaking him from the start?

Whatever it was left P2 alone, also feeling guilty of what he has done. He does not feel as bad as P1 but he also cannot feel happy as OD probably feels. What they’ve done it’s horrible, but how OD manipulated them to do it? Even worse. Even for P2 whose morality is more gray-ish than P1s.

He hates it, he’s locked in there with the hallucinations and barely speaks to P1 because he’s completely broken and refuses to do so. Now it’s the other way around. He’s growing resentful to him too for that, they’re both cupid, can he at least make him some company? Like he did when P1 was a child too? It’s unfair.

He has something clear though: if OD ever shows his ass again he will NOT let get on him like he did. And even if he’s annoyed at P1, not even him.

— After some time Uncle Dave brings himself to visit him. At first it was so grim. Dude felt so horrible for his actions he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him, but after some more visits, therapy and meds he started to light up a really tiny bit. It was something.

★ It was not really him, P1 was pretty much not wanting to know anything from the external world, it was P2 who decided to take the lead. P1 didn’t wanted to live anymore? Fine, he would take his chance then. To live the life he never could since he’s always been on P1 mind, rarely being the one in control.

Maybe he was pretending, or maybe he genuinely wanted to get better, but the thing was: he wanted to get out of there, if there was a chance to do so, he would try it. At first do what the workers said, and if that didn’t work he would escape. He does not care. He wants to try to live.

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okay I got a bit too carried away- I’m sorry-

hope you liked them! I’m not really skilled nor do I have practice when it comes to creating headcanons about characters even if I have a few ideas.

I’m thinking about posting a few more in a future,, but school work is killing me-

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.6

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age, drugs, slight smut for this chapter but nothing graphic, questionable consent (?) I guess? Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

“EVERYONE HAS A DARKER NATURE. EVERYONE. GOOD MEN FEAR IT, AND EVIL MEN EMBRACE IT.” - JAMES ISLINGTON

The silent hum of the air conditioning filled the space like a foreboding chant. Nothing else but the sound of the hospital machinery and random noises outside pierced the stillness of the room as you stared, unseeing, at the green and orange numbers that blinked on the monitor above the bed. 

You barely have any recollection of how you managed to find yourself in the hospital, but you do remember brief memories of Taeyong picking you up from the floor you found yourself crumpled on after you got the call. You remember seeing Jaehyun's parents at a brightly lit corridor and his mother pulling you into a hug as she broke down and his father telling you how his son hasn't woken up since he was brought to the emergency room.

You remember your heart breaking in shock, mind too numb from the godforsaken pills you have been taking and your own injury. So many times you wondered to yourself if you were still caught in one of your nightmares, but every time you tried to break free from it, you're slapped back with the reality of how all of this is real.

Your fingers gently tightened on Jaehyun's hands now as your gaze landed on his face. He looked so peaceful, like he's just sleeping, that you almost wanted to bend over and try to kiss him awake. You don't even have any idea what time and day it is already, but you have barely left his side since you were brought to him. The nightmares and sleeplessness? They're barely a problem for you anymore because right now, you're entirely not resting at all unless your body forces you to crash from physical exhaustion. Even then, you usually only sleep for about two to three hours at best to make sure that you never miss a moment with your fiance.

"Severe traumatic head injury. He was lucky enough that the airbag shielded him from the worst of the impact."

The words of his attending doctor echoed in your head again like a faraway voice. You could only remember bits and pieces of what he said to his parents back then as he reported his findings, but you caught enough context for you to draw a picture of the situation. You remember Jaehyun's mother asking the chances of her son waking up again, her voice barely holding up from her emotions. 

"I cannot promise anything, Ma'm. I'd say he has a 60 percent chance. He's fighting."

And he is. You know Jaehyun inside out. He might be unconscious now, but there is no way he is giving up. Not from something like this. 

"Keep fighting baby…" you whispered in the stillness of the room as you lifted his hand gently to your lips to kiss. "I'll wait for you. We still have a wedding to do."

The slight creaking of the door barely made you look away from his sleeping face. You only did at the gentle sound of a throat clearing, your eyes slightly widening as you recognized the man who just walked inside the room. Taeil had the same mildly shocked look on him as he stopped on the  other side of the bed across from you. 

"You…"

"Are you a relative of the patient?" He asked now as he tucked his clipboard under his arm. You simply nodded, watching him quickly glance at the numbers on the monitor before his eyes settled on you again.

"I'm his fiancee."

That made him raise his brows slightly. He pulled a pen now from the pocket of his coat to quickly write something on his file. "What a coincidence. Not a good one obviously. I'm sorry to hear about him. Mr. Jung, right?"

You swallowed. You didn't want to acknowledge anything that he just said so you tried to divert the conversation instead.

"You're not his doctor. Why are you…"

"Oh. He was turned over to me today. I am one of the resident neurologists here but he had to be moved to me because his first doctor has too much in his plate already. Don't worry, I was briefed properly about his case."

Your gaze followed Taeil as he bent over to check Jaehyun's oxygen level as well as the other wires attached to him. You don't know what to feel about him taking over, but at least you already know him previously.

"Are there any changes? Positive ones?" You asked in a frail voice that Taeil definitely didn't miss. You told yourself to not act silly and ask questions that probably do not have answers yet, but you couldn't help yourself now. The man seemed to think over his words first, noticing your state, before calmly giving his reply.

"No particular ones, but the fact that there are no negative developments is… something. I will have to request for some tests to be done on him again tomorrow so we can see if there are positive changes in his brain."

Neutral. Not good, but at least it's not bad either.

"How are you? I was about to check on you again. Is your head okay?"

You were still thinking over his words that you barely caught his question. Looking up, you tried to scramble for an answer to give. To be honest, you haven't given proper attention to your own injury since this happened. You would even only remember to take your medications on your clearest, less anxious moments, which, honestly, isn’t a lot. 

"I'm uh… the wound has closed. But the headaches. They're still there."

He simply nodded. "Any other side effects?"

You didn't immediately answer. You didn't want to sound whiny, but it's not like you're going to lose anything by telling him the uglier parts of your recovery. You swallowed to try and dislodge the slight blockage in your throat.

"Nightmares…" you said now, voice soft. You briefly remembered the last one you had back in the manor before you woke up to the bad news and you felt your stomach turn again. "Lots of them. Hallucinations sometimes…"

The doctor watched you carefully and you know he is trying to compute things in his mind despite his face remaining calm.

"Have you been keeping to your schedule with your medications? Are you taking too much?"

You firmly shook your head no to his last question.

"No, I haven't been overdosing. But… I've been skipping my pills the last few days because of...because of this."

"How have you been feeling since you started missing your dosages then? Do you remember?"

That made you actually stop and think about it for a moment. Now that you are paying attention, you did notice how the nightmares have calmed down slightly. Even the hallucinations are almost gone. You frowned slightly to yourself.

"A bit… better actually."

Taeil took his time to observe you a bit more before writing something on a new page of his clipboard.

"You must have had severe reactions to the mixture of pills I gave you. I'm going to prescribe you new ones and ask the nurses to pick them up and bring them to you here. Can you promise that you'll try and take them though? You really need them to fully heal."

You nodded and gave him a slightly sheepish look.

"I will, thank you very much."

Taeil dug his hands into the pockets of his coat and gave you a gentle smile.

"Well, that's it for today. I'll come back tomorrow to give you updates about Mr. Jung." He had already turned and started walking away when he suddenly stopped to look at you again.

"Oh, and another thing. Please try and get some sleep. Recover… and then focus on helping your fiance."

******* You didn't really know what woke you up. Stirring from your sleep, the first thing that registered to you was the sound of distant traffic mixed with the gentle chirping of the morning birds from outside the window. A warm feeling radiated on your cheek and made the back of your eyelids glow red.

You flickered your eyes open and immediately rolled away to escape the ray of sunshine that slipped from the open curtains and shone directly at your face. You easily evaded it as you moved over to the other side of the bed which was empty and cold from the night before.

That was when you finally remembered that you were back in your home, in the same bedroom you share with Jaehyun. The day before, his mother offered to take the responsibility of watching over him so there was a sudden change of plans that finally gave you the reason to check back into your apartment after so long. If it were you, you would have preferred not leaving your boyfriend’s side until he wakes up, but you also knew that your future mother-in-law wanted to spend time with him so you relented. 

Of course you weren't thrilled to be home alone, especially with Jaehyun not being there, but the comfort that a real mattress provided—over the small couch you used to sleep in back at the hospital—is definitely a welcome change for your body. You even tried to take your medicine properly, the new ones that Taeil had provided, in the hopes of getting knocked down fast. Your adrenaline and anxiety had been fueling you in the past days, but you know from the way your heart thumped and your hands shook that you need a solid rest.

And you got it. You still feel a little groggy now but your body is definitely lighter and your head clearer. The nightmares didn't even come, and while they were replaced by total darkness or dreams in white that still made you anxious, you are willing to take those anytime over the graphic ones that you used to have.

You gently sat back against the headrest of the bed now and reached out for your phone to check the time. It's barely 7AM but as expected, Jaehyun's mom has already provided you with updates from the hospital. He’ll have some tests taken today as Taeil advised and then they’ll hear more about his progress. From the looks of it, she seems still set on watching over her son, which means you still have at least today free to yourself.

You quickly typed a reply to her and sighed. You’re thankful that even though you weren’t related by blood, his parents have always treated you as if you were their own. Having a family is not something you’ve really experienced in your childhood, so that’s something you’ve always appreciated about them. That is also the reason why you wish for the best out of this situation, because you also couldn’t bear seeing your fiance’s mother and father heartbroken. He’s their only son, after all.

A quick look around your room left you feeling empty. The last week has been so hard that it felt longer and now you’re struggling to find your normal pace again. In an effort to bring yourself to focus, you decided to pick up your phone once more and started flipping through your calendar to check your schedule. It didn’t take long for you to frown when you realized the upcoming dates there. You’ve plotted important academic schedules in advance and one quick look at it told you how much you’ve obviously missed in the past week. You’ve been so lost in the mess of everything that has happened that you’ve entirely forgotten about your job at the manor. You realized that they didn’t even call you once to ask about your absence, probably because they also know about the situation, but even that is not enough excuse for you to entirely fall off the radar.  

Biting your lip, you quickly scrolled through your contacts now to look for the number you need. Your thumb hovered over the call button momentarily, but you eventually pressed it anyway. Your eyes wandered towards the clock on the wall, hoping silently to yourself that it wasn’t too early for you to call.

“Rosewood Manor, how can I help you?”

You straightened on your seat.

“Hey, Taeyong. It’s me. Sorry if I called so early.”

The other boy seemed to have been taken slightly by surprise by the way he fell silent at the other end of the line. You tapped your finger against your knee, waiting for him to speak again.

“Hi. No, it’s fine. Work started for me about an hour ago. Are you okay? How’s things on your end?”

You nibbled guiltily on your lower lip and finally got off your bed to walk over to the window. You pushed the curtains open and stared at the slight snowfall that had started falling on the ground. You’ve missed so many days of reporting to them but the first thing he does is to check if you’re fine.

“I um—things are still the same. My boyfriend’s still at the hospital.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Look, I want to apologize. I haven’t really reported to work and I didn’t even call about it. It’s just that—things have been so crazy lately, but still that isn’t an excuse for me to just not show up.”

Taeyong, however, was understanding as always. You were about to go off for another round of apologies when he gently cut you off. 

“Hey, it’s fine. We know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately so we also weren't expecting anything. Don’t worry too much about it.”

“But, the boys’ examinations and portfolio review is happening in three days and I haven’t really checked in with them. How are they doing now?”

“Oh...that. Well, we actually tried looking for a temporary tutor to help out but I...uh… I think he isn't really cutting it. Maybe because he isn’t the one who started the program with them. But he’s a big help still.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that. I should have at least—look, I can drop by today and just try to fix things.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. Don’t you need to be at the hospital?”

You started going around your room now, trying to gather the scattered papers and files that you’ll need. It’s a good thing you woke up early so you still have time to prepare for work. “My boyfriend’s mother is the one watching over him today so I have the day off.”

“And your injury? How is it?”

Your eyes landed on the new bottles of medicine sitting on your bedside table.

“Better. I’m feeling so much better.”

You heard Taeyong sigh in relief over the phone. “Thank god. We were so worried about that. Well, you really don’t need to go, but if you have time, I guess doing it today won’t hurt. It will help us a lot.”

A small smile tugged at your lips now and you switched the phone over to your other ear as you started arranging your bag. “Thank you so much for being understanding. I need a distraction anyway. I’d rather work than stay home alone… Thanks for not firing me.”

That made him laugh a little. “I’ll tell the boys that you’re coming over. Oh, and be careful on your drive here. The roads are a little bit slippery today because of the snow.”

“I will, thank you. I’ll be there by 9.”

******* “Noona!”

You have barely finished arranging your materials on your desk when the door to the room burst open and ushered an anxious-looking Jisung inside. You looked up quickly at him, only barely catching Chenle wobbling with his crutch before your vision of the entrance was blocked by Jisung’s tall frame. His hair looked swept up as if he ran and there was a slight flush staining his cheeks. He stopped right in front of you, stopping just in time for him not to topple you over.

“Hey, Jisung how are—” You tried to give him a smile but he was quick enough to grab your hands between his.  

“Are you back? Are you really back for real?” He pressed now, eyes wide as he tried to bend over to look closely at you. He looked like a puppy, the only missing thing being a wagging tail to complete the look. You couldn’t help the brief laugh that passed over you as you tried to calm him down.

“I am. For the day, yes. Sorry I missed so many of your sessions.”

“We thought you left us,” Jisung continued, his lower lip protruding just a bit. Just then, Chenle had finally reached the two of you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. This is actually the first time you saw him again since the day the two of you had your accident and you’re glad to see him healthy despite his broken leg.

“Hi, Chenle. How are you?”

The boy scratched the back of his head and looked away slightly. “Fine… I’m sorry, noona. I wasn’t able to visit you when you stayed with us. I’m really really sorry about what happened in the forest.”

You tried to give him a reassuring smile and freed one of your hands from Jisung’s hold to ruffle his hair. The action seemed to have calmed him down a little because he finally looked at you again, a small apologetic smile on his own lips.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. But be careful next time, okay?”

“Are you going to be our tutor again, noona?” Jisung pressed once more and you turned your attention back to him. To be honest, you’re still not sure how your schedule will turn out after this, but you couldn’t really bear to break the poor boy’s heart at the moment.

“Yes… I’m here to teach your big brothers today for their tests though. We’ll have to schedule you and Chenle’s lessons again. Is that alright?”

A brief look of disappointment flashed on his face but he was quick enough to pick it up. Jisung smiled and gave your hand a squeeze.

“Okay. We can wait. It’s good you are back, Jaemin-hyung was so—”

“Yah, don’t hog her by yourself. You’ll scare her away.”

A new voice made the three of you look back to the doorway. Haechan smiled at your little group as he strolled casually into the room followed by Jeno and Jaemin. The three of them joined your crowd and you felt Jisung finally let go of your hand as he stepped away to go over to his brothers’ side.

“Hi. Sorry, I only returned now. Taeyong told me that you—”

You weren’t able to finish what you wanted to say as Haechan gently stopped you mid-sentence. He leaned his head to the side, eyes briefly scanning you from head to toe. Unlike Jisung, he looked calm and only barely excited.

“It’s fine. We knew you’ll come back. How are you?”

“Oh… I’m good. My head is better. I haven’t had the chance to thank all of you for taking care of me when I was here.”

“How about your boyfriend?” It was Jeno who asked this time and you quickly turned to him to address his question. Your eyes briefly slipped to Jaemin who was standing behind him before you could even speak though, and for a moment you had the impression that Jeno was shielding him—or blocking him from you. You blinked a little bit in confusion, wondering if it was just your imagination that was making you think that way.

“He’s still… still unconscious,” your smile dropped a little but you tried your best to keep your voice casual. “We’re getting more tests for him. His doctor said that he isn’t showing bad signs at least.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about him,” Haechan said with compassion and you gave him a grateful look. Your gaze settled on Jaemin again, however, who for some reason had barely looked at you since he came into the room. You know that he can be quiet and reserved at times, but there is something in the air around him that makes you slightly worried. He’s so still, but the way he carries himself makes it seem like he’s so strung up at the same time. It also doesn’t help that Jeno seems to be almost pushing him back from view.

“Hi Jaemin… How are you?” You tried to gently ask him to make sure that he is okay. He didn’t look at you at first, but when he finally did, you felt yourself freeze a little. His eyes looked dark and almost emotionless when he met yours and there were shadows under them as if he hadn't slept properly for days. He didn’t even answer and just simply stared, his gaze blank and accusing at the same time.

Haechan casually glanced over his brother and chuckled. “Our Jaeminie here has been sick for the past couple of days so he’s a little out of it. But he’s going to be fine now,” he put a hand over the other’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze as if to calm him down. “Right, Jaemin? We’ll try our best to go to class today since noona is finally back, hmm?”

Jaemin, however, didn’t even seem to hear him. He continued staring at you the same way that kept you pinned on your spot.

“Are you leaving again?” he finally asked and you almost felt goosebumps rise on your skin. It didn’t sound like a question… but more of a threat. You swallowed.

“I’m going to have to arrange my schedule till things get better…” you answered carefully, as if you’re navigating dark waters. That didn’t seem to cut it for him, unfortunately.

“So you’re not leaving. Forever?”

You blinked. To be honest, you’ve been thinking of quitting and just finishing the rest of the month if things didn’t improve, but you don’t think that’s the right answer to give at the moment.

“No… not for now,” you finally managed to say. You watched as Jaemin seemed to visibly relax, his stiff shoulders loosening under Haechan’s grip. He didn’t say anything after that, but he at least looked away, seemingly more satisfied with your words.

“Great. I think we should get to work,” Haechan broke the silence and looked around the room as if the tension you were feeling was just something only you could feel. He nodded towards Chenle and Jisung then. “You guys go back to your own classes. You’ll have your share of noona once it’s your turn.” He then glanced at you, smile still in place. “Should we start then?”

You nodded. “Is Renjun still not back?”

“Not yet. He’s going to be here tomorrow though,” Jeno answered as he took his seat on one of the desks.

“I see…”

Haechan also found his spot, but not before you’ve noticed him urging Jaemin to do the same. Playfully, he took the pencil you’ve arranged on the desk and started tapping it against the wood of the table.

“Don’t worry. We’ll tell him you’re back. I’m sure he can’t wait to have his lessons again~”

******* You looked over the window for the third time in the last fifteen minutes and sighed. The day had been busy with you trying to catch up on the boys’ lessons that you barely even noticed the state of the weather outside. When you finally did, it took you by surprise when you saw how much of the ground was covered by snow—one look at it told you that it is at least a feet deep by now. Your first instinct was to try and maneuver your car out of the lot before your tires get entirely buried in it, but then you remembered that you promised to wait for Taeyong to come back before leaving the manor. The butler requested for you to temporarily watch over the manor while he tries to do some last minute errands back in the city, but it’s been two hours since he originally promised to come back. You eyes glanced at your watch now, then back at the quickly darkening view outside. 

“...severe snowstorm has blocked some of the main roads in the city at the moment. Expect heavy traffic and don’t forget to drive safely.”

You turned to the television now to catch the last of the rambling dialogue of the reporter about the weather. You’ve been debating on whether to call Taeyong or not to check on him, but you didn’t want to seem impatient to go home when you only really wanted to make sure if he’s safe. From the looks of it, he’s stuck somewhere because of the hale, too.

You were on your way to get your phone from your bag to at least try to shoot him a message when you suddenly heard it ring. Getting it just in time, you almost sighed in relief when you saw his number there. You quickly took it and went over to the window to answer it to make sure you get some proper signal.

“Hello? Taeyong?”

“Hey. Finally. I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour, thank god it finally connected.”

“Oh, sorry, my phone’s in my bag. I think the signal’s getting bad because of the snowstorm. Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, about that, I’m still stuck in town. The traffic’s so bad here because a section of the main road is blocked. Road maintenance is supposed to come thirty minutes ago but I think there’s a delay because there are other roads they are working on.”

Your gaze drifted back to the television where scenes of the same blocked avenues were being flashed. “Yeah… the news says the same.  Are you safe though?”

“I am. I’m really sorry for making you wait. I’d tell you to drive back and not wait for me anymore but I don’t think you’ll also make it home in time with all this traffic going on. I don’t think it’s going to be safe. Do you mind waiting for a little bit more? I’ll tell you once the roads are better.”

You thought it over quickly, a frown settling on your face. You really want to go home, but he’s right. There’s no point in trying to drive back if you’ll only find yourself stuck in the roads for hours. Not being a big fan of night driving yourself, you can already imagine the stress waiting for you if you add a snowstorm to the mix. As much as you wanted to leave, you’re left with no choice, at least for the moment.

 “I can… I’ll just wait for you, I guess. Do you want me to do anything here while you’re gone? Dinner for the boys?”

“Oh no, no, you don’t need to do that, that’s not part of your job,” Taeyong sounded abashed when he said that. You stepped away from the window then and took a seat by the fireplace that Jeno started earlier. Half of your concentration was on the news which has now shifted to a different set of reports also caused by the snowstorm. “They’ll know when to go down and eat. Don’t worry about them. Where are they right now?”

“Ah, I think they went back to their rooms? I did tell them earlier that I’ll try to wait for you.”

“I see. Yes, I think that’s better. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated. If things don’t get better, I think I’ll have no other choice but find a hostel here and wait for the weather to calm down. You can stay there and just ask for help from any of them. You can stay in the same room just in case.”

You didn’t quickly react to the offer. Instead, your eyes flickered to the doorway of the room before refocusing your attention back to the conversation. It’s not like you have anything against spending the night again at the manor—you’ve done it before, after all—but it’s honestly not really something you’re comfortable to do again. Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been okay with overstaying at strangers’ houses but your gut feel is also telling you right now that it shouldn’t be your top option regardless of the situation you are in.

Still, you didn’t want to come off rude to Taeyong, not when he is only being kind to offer you temporary shelter while being stuck in the middle of nowhere himself. So instead, you went against your initial doubts and offered him your thanks in return. It’s just Plan B that he’s proposing after all. 

“I will. Keep me updated though if you need anything you think I can help with.”

“Thank you and I will. I have to go now though. Please make yourself at home. I’ll try to call again after an hour.”

“Okay. Take care.”

You put your phone down now with a worried frown as you heard the line drop. You couldn’t believe this is happening the first day you got back to work but it’s not like you can really blame anyone for it. The only good thing is that you’re sure Jaehyun is being taken care of right now so that is at least one thing off your shoulders. You didn’t really need to rush anywhere, not especially to a vacant home. Leaning back against your seat, you tried your best to relax as your gaze travelled around the room once again. You deliberated on sending a text to your mother-in-law to tell her about your situation but decided against it, not wanting to worry her more. You sighed. For now, you guess you didn’t have any other choice but to wait.

You did try to distract yourself by watching the news for a few more minutes before finally giving up on it. With resignation, you picked yourself up from your seat again and turned the television off. For a moment you simply stood in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what to do with your time when your gaze settled on the door again. Everyone retreated to their own rooms after they finished with their lessons so it means the house is pretty much yours for exploring if you wanted to. You toyed with the idea for a little bit, before finally resigning yourself to it. It’s not like there really is anything else left for you to do, and Taeyong did say you can make yourself feel at home if you wanted to. With a sigh, you finally turned on your heels to leave the room and peered silently into the hallway. It was deserted as expected, but still your eyes travelled left and right to check if there’s anyone out and about at this hour. It was only after you made sure that you were alone when you finally allowed yourself to step into the corridor.

Of course, you have a plan. You’re pretty much sure that checking out the rooms on the first floor is acceptable since it’s where you’ve been rotating your classes so you’re going to stick to those areas. You remember finding a library there once and you focused on finding your way to it to maybe check out some of the books in the collection. 

It did take you about five minutes to finally find the place you were looking for. For some reason, the sections in the manor always confuse you no matter how many times you try to memorize each one, probably because of how big and similar-looking they are on the outside. You’ve already tried four doors when you were finally welcomed by the familiar-looking bookshelves at the fifth one. You sighed and gave one quick look around the room before slipping yourself inside after making sure that you’re alone.

There will probably never be a time when you won’t find yourself fascinated by anything in this grand home. If the architecture of the mansion is not enough to convince anyone how rich the family is, their book collection is enough to assure that at the very least. You’ve only ever taken a quick glimpse of it once during one of your lessons with the boys, but one look of the titles in their shelves is enough to make any literature major excited. You looked at the floor to ceiling collection now, your fingers gently running over the spines of the books you could reach with a small smile on your face.

You were about to check out the rest of the collection on the other side of the wall when something in the middle of the room caught your attention. You didn’t really catch it at first because of the shadows that concealed it when you first came in, but you could pretty much discern the outline of a blanket covered standee now from where you stood. You frowned. Taking careful steps, you closed the distance towards it to try and figure out what exactly it is that you’re seeing.

A closer look revealed it to be an easel covered with white cloth. You could see the outline of the canvas where the blanket falls over it while shadows of colors peeked out into the thin fabric from the surface it was covering. How odd… you knew that Renjun had a different art room for his paintings so to see this now here in the middle of the library seems uncanny.

You didn’t know how long you remained standing in front of it, too. You know you should have walked away—after all, the white cloth hiding it away from plain view means whatever is on that canvas is not meant for everyone’s eyes to see, but you simply couldn’t tear yourself away from it. It’s as if there was a silent force asking you to pull that cloth to reveal what’s underneath, the inclination so strong that you could almost hear its voice breathing down next to your ear, unrelenting until you do what it says.

The next thing you know, you had your hand attached to one end of the fabric. You stared at it now, wondering last minute if you should go ahead or not. You swallowed and glanced around one last time around the room. If you’re alone… it wouldn’t hurt if you could take a peek, right? Nobody will know. You just have to see, then cover it back again. Before you could even think about it too much, your arm was finally moving on its own as it gently tugged at the covering. You watched as it fell gently on the floor, like a bodiless ghost melting into the shadows on the ground.

Your eyes couldn’t make out what you were seeing at first. The dim lighting of the room wasn’t helping at all, but you were sure that it was a woman’s silhouette that was staring back at you from the canvas. Colors swirled around her, like some unknown mass trying to drag her back into unknown depths. Shapes and tones jumped from the picture, but her form stood out from the rest, gracefully twisted as if she was in the middle of trying to fight and succumb to it at the same time. You frowned. Taking a step closer towards it, you tried to study its details under what little illumination the lamps above afforded you.

That’s when it all happened simultaneously. Your heart stopped beating the same time your eyes widened as they finally focused on what’s in front of them. It’s as if the ground suddenly vanished from underneath your feet and you were falling, falling, deep into the abyss despite your body being frozen in fear and shock.

You know this painting. You’ve seen it before. It was the same one by Renjun, the one that you saw on your first day working in the manor.

But it was different now. Instead of the unfinished state that caught your attention before, everything about the picture now is in sharp focus. The lines on the woman’s nude body, the hands—which you thought were simply dark swirls dragging her back—and her face twisted beautifully in pleasure and madness stared back at you like a nightmare.

But it was not those which truly shook you to your core. It’s the realization that it was your own face in the portrait that was staring back at you, silently screaming for you to run away.

You stumbled back in shock. Your chest felt tight as you tried to grasp for air while your hands fumbled to find something to hold on to keep you from crashing on the ground. Before you could even take another step, however, something hard hit your back and you felt strong arms wrap around your waist like a vice. You have barely realized what was happening when you felt someone lean over your shoulder, lips pressing against the shell of your ear.

“Isn’t it beautiful? You’re the perfect muse, don’t you think?” Renjun asked softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

******* You didn’t know how long you stayed frozen in his embrace. For a brief moment you thought you were dreaming again until you felt his arms slowly tighten around your waist. As if a jolt of electricity shocked you, you immediately turned to push him away as you scrambled to put some distance between the two of you.

Renjun didn’t seem the least bothered when your eyes finally focused on him. He remained on his spot, his gaze on you unwavering. You, meanwhile, were shaking from head to toe, the vision of the painting still branded vividly in your head.

“Renjun—what’s this?” you managed to stutter as you pointed at the artwork in the middle of the room. You couldn’t even spare to look at it again while he merely gave it a casual glance.

“It’s you. I’ve been working on it for a long time. I was about to show it to you but it seems like you couldn’t wait for it yourself.”

You felt nauseous. A part of your rational mind was slowly losing it as you tried to process his answer. Something's not right. Something is so terribly wrong.

“Why—why did you do this?”

Renjun simply stared at you and leaned his head a little bit to the side as if he was only mildly curious of your reaction. Your stomach turned even before hearing his answer.

“You said it’s beautiful.”

“This is not right—!”

“I came home because they said you were leaving for good,” he continued speaking softly, effectively cutting you from what you were about to say. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you took another step back as you watched him get close to his artwork. You watched in horror as his thin fingers lovingly ran over the corners of the canvas. “Jaemin almost lost it… It’s a good thing I got here on time.”

And just like that, everything seemed to have clicked into place. The glances, the touches, the words that seemed to have a different undercurrent under them… they weren’t just fragments of your imagination. Every little thing that has gnawed at you from the inside came into crystal clear focus and you felt your knees go weak from the weight of it all. It took every fiber of your being to try and keep yourself steady now, your legs moving on their own as they took small backward steps away from the boy staring at you now with dead eyes. You couldn’t breathe, but it was the last words he told you that finally snapped you to run.

“I don’t think you’ve realized it yet. But no, you cannot leave. Ever.”

You didn’t know where you got the energy for it but in seconds you were flying out of that room and running blindly down the darkened corridors. Your blood pumped noisily in your ears and your chest felt like it was going to split from the sudden exertion you put on it, but you didn’t stop, not even looking back as you tried to put as much distance between you and the library. You didn’t even know where you were going. All you’re focused on is to find the exit and leave the house as soon as possible.

A loud bang that sounded off to your right startled you and you screamed, the force of your shock making you whip around and almost lose your balance. Before you could even hit the floor, however, a pair of hands caught you and you immediately turned, grasping at the chest of your rescuer.

You froze. Haechan smiled down at you as he tried to steady you on your feet.

“Haechan,” you gasped as you took fistfuls of his shirt and tried to shake him in your panic. “Renjun—he’s—please, help me. He’s after me—” you gasped out, almost out of your wits. You’re on the verge of a total breakdown that it almost escaped you, the way he simply smiled down on your shaking form. It was only when you felt one of his hands gently caress the top of your head that reality slapped you in the face again. You suddenly stopped struggling in his hold, pupils shaking as you watched him study your features lovingly.

“Shh… it’s fine. I got you,” he whispered and you could swear ice pricked you from the inside. A slight movement to the right made you turn your head and you saw Jaemin lean casually against the banister of the stairs, his face serene. He gave you one quick look before a gentle smile finally lit up his features.

“Has it started?” he asked and you felt Haechan’s hold on you tighten.

“It has.”

You didn’t struggle. It was as if any trace of fight you had left you in that moment and you let your hands fall limply on your sides. Haechan also loosened his grip on you and you stared at the two boys blankly, your chest heaving as if fighting for air. They didn’t move from their spots and simply followed you with their eyes as if relishing the fear and realization flashing in your face.

Trapped.

You’re trapped.

You’ve always been.

You didn’t even realize that your legs had started moving again on their own as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together in your mind. You were only shaken from it when your back finally hit the front door, the cold metal of the knob pressing against your spine. Jaemin and Haechan remained on their spots still, even as you blindly reached out for it from behind.

You were expecting it to be locked, so you were a little bit surprised when you felt it give way under your hand when you tried to turn it open. Just before you could even entertain the idea of escaping, however, any trace of hope you had quickly died as you turned and came face to face with Jeno standing right in front of the entrance. He didn’t look the least surprised seeing you there, as if he was waiting for you in the first place.

You eyes took in his calm countenance before slowly moving to stare downwards at what he was holding by his side. Your gaze locked on it in fear, and that’s when the flight response in you flared up again.

Jeno’s hunting rifle shone dully in the light of the entryway, his pale fingers wrapped on its handle.

“There’s really only one place you can run, noona, but I won’t advise it,” he said evenly and you felt your blood freeze in your veins.

“After all, no matter where you hide, I’ll still find you in that forest.”

It happened all at once. You broke into a run, your body screaming at you to go faster as you heard gunshots pierce the air.

---

CHAPTER 7

A/N: Good lord, I wasn’t expecting I’d finish this today but I got one large iced coffee and well... things happened. Anyway, enjoy! Let’s hope the format won’t mess up this time. T.T Finally, all hell broke loose~ <3

Tag list! 

@negincho, @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore​, @jsturkey, @aj-7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights, @xsnelly, @lihyuck, @laheyspizza, @miyeux27, @haoshitt, @mindofthescattered, @huangberryyy, @d1nne, @choppedupcactus, @neokat​, @yutasnabi​

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

[couldyouspeakmyname]

Shishigumi and the reader who has adopted children

You know I'm a sucker for blended families

-Maeve

Ibuki

Already is kind of a dad to the rest of the Shishigumi and Louis

While Ibuki is initially really nervous about adopting a child, as soon as they hold them, all his fears melt away.

If they’re an older child, he’ll let them call him by his name if that’s more comfortable. He doesn’t have to be called “dad” to be a parental figure. 

Ibuki is very supportive of his child, and has a lot of patience. 

Ibuki may actually be prone to adopting a child out of the baby stage. He may even adopt an older child who just needs a home (even if they’re almost of legal age to live on their own).

Ibuki would be great with troubled kids. He has the patience of a saint, and has seen a lot of bad in the world, and been a lot of that bad.

Ibuki allows the child to adjust at their own pace, and never pushes them to fit or meet a standard,

Ibuki cooks for them, and listens when they talk. 

Ibuki wants them to be comfortable, always. 

He enrolls them in the best school he can, and goes to every major event. 

He allows them to style their own room, even if he doesn’t always understand what they like. 

He’s adamant that at least three nights a week you all have a family dinner. 

He tries his best to help with homework or any problems they may have. 

Free

Free is freaked out at the idea of adopting a kid. It probably takes a few years for him to be comfortable with the idea.

Honestly? He’s just worried he’s going to be a terrible father. He’s already kind of a menace, he’s not even sure why you’re still with him.

Then again, Louis turned out great and Free likes to think he had a hand in that. 

After some time he finally comes around to the idea. Why not? He can do this. 

When Free and you adopt a child, it’s probably going to be an infant or a younger child. 

It only takes a few hours before Free is a doting father figure, and labels your new child as ‘His’.

Free loves playing games with his kid. If they’re a toddler when you two adopt them, he’s probably going to go crazy at the toy store with them (who needs ten nerf guns?). Free had it rough growing up, he wants his kid to have the childhood he didn’t get to have.

Free isn’t great at homework, but he tries.

Free teaches them self defense early on, just to make sure they can protect themselves when he isn’t around

That dad that plays any game his kid comes up with, and makes forts out of blankets and pillows. 

Dolph

Dolph is actually on board with the idea of adoption

I could see Dolph adopting an older kid, maybe even a pre-teen or teenager. They’re more difficult than a younger child, but Dolph is okay with that. He’s patient, and knows how wild kids can be. He was in a gang, there’s not much trouble a kid could cause that would come anywhere near the trouble he dealt with in the gang

Dolph is big on education, keeping his child in school and having them graduate is important. 

Dolph is calm and collected, and he listens and gives advice where it’s needed.

If he did adopt an older kid, he’s okay with working with a phycologist. Sometimes you just have to talk without worrying about getting in trouble.

Dolph wants his kid to always feel safe and secure. They will always have a room and a place to come home to. 

If they’re worried about someone taking their stuff, Dolph will install a lock on their door. This way they can lock the door and have peace of mind. It is their room. Dolph isn’t going to take things from them.

Same thing with food. If they’re more comfortable keeping snacks and need a mini fridge so they know they wont go hungry, he’ll do what he has to to make them feel secure 

Helps with homework and attends school events. 

 Doesn’t hold his kid to unfairly high standards. If they get a ‘C’, he’s fine with that, as long as they gave it their all.

He’s strict, and has rules. Don’t be out late, don’t do drugs, have dinner with the parents at least twice a week, homework before video games. It’s basic rules, but he’s ridged about them. In a way, that gives his child structure. 

They don’t have to call him dad, but if they do it makes him all emotional

Makes them ask you before they do something

“Dad can I-” 

“Go ask Y/N”

Agata

Agata would probably do best adopting a small child or a baby

He has a lot of anxiety, and he’d do better parenting a kid from the beginning 

Agata raises his child with his whole heart. It doesn’t matter that they were adopted, there’s no question that Agata would die for his child. 

Agata puts the needs of his child above his own, without question. 

Agata is honest when his kid asks if he’s adopted. Agata isn’t going to hide that from them. He will answer any questions they have, and let them know that you don’t have to be blood related to love someone

Agata is that ‘cool’ dad that plays video games with his kid. Agata lets them win.

Agata also beats any levels they get stuck on. 

Agata doesn’t like the PTA, but will go to all school events, and is there for all milestones

Agata tries his best to make sure his child is confident in themselves, and knows that Agata will always be there to back them up

Agata is kind of a softie, you’re going to have to be the rule enforcer

Not to say Agata can’t get strict, he can, but he doesn’t want to

Agata will always make sure his child knows their home is a safe place to go to

If his child ever wants to know their biological parents, Agata will help them. 

Miguel

Age doesn’t matter for Miguel. He’s willing to take any kid that needs him, and is a good fit for you two

He quickly establishes a healthy lifestyle. He wants them to live a long time, and fuel their body properly 

Cooking may actually be how he bonds with them initially, if they’re older. If they’re really little, he’ll bake cookies with them

Miguel is at all school events, and may even be part of the PTA

Miguel may be pretty quiet, but he’s not one to hold back praise when a child does something good. He’s big on positive reinforcement

Rarely raises his voice. Instead, he talks everything out.

He’s very patient, and quickly learns his adopted child’s personality, and adjusts accordingly

That big beefy dad that’s having tea/playing pretend with his child

He can and will switch his child out of a class if a teacher is unfair. A lot of adopted children may have a hard time adjusting, and not all teachers know how to handle that. If they can’t, Miguel will find someone who does. 

Miguel is going to be overprotective of his child. He chose to adopt his child, and it’s his job as a father to make sure his child thrives. He’s not going to allow anyone to drag his kid down the path Miguel himself once walked.

Miguel is that dad that doesn’t talk a lot, but you can talk about anything with. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’s going to listen. 

Sabu

Sabu doesn’t care about age when he adopts a kid. He would be prone to adopting a child that’s mute or deaf, or a child with another disability. 

I have a headcanon that Sabu doesn’t talk much, but knows sign language.  

He’s also very quiet and patient,  and not much phases him. He’s also very flexible, and is willing to make big changes if that’s what his child needs

Sabu is also very involved with schooling, even if most of the staff find him unnerving. It doesn’t take long for them to warm up to him though. Sabu has a good heart, even if he makes a bad first impression. 

Sabu helps with homework, and is fine with taking breaks and coming back if his child becomes frustrated. 

He will totally get a side car for his motorcycle 

If the kid he adopts doesn’t know sign language, Sabu teaches them.

Sabu loves for his child to be passionate about their hobbies. 

Sabu likes it when his child expresses themselves, even if it’s not always traditionally.

If Sabu has a kid, and they want to do his mane, he’ll let them. He doesn’t even mind going out in public with it if his child is particularly proud of it.

Never is afraid of telling his child he loves them, or that he’s proud of them.

Jinma

Jinma would do better adopting a child that was a smidge older.

He does a lot of research before adoption, and tries to find information on what to do, what you two need, and problems that may come up

If they are older, Jinma is going to get them a psychologist if they need one. If they’ve been in the system for a while, they may need a third party to talk to

Jinma is also going to make sure his child has no siblings out there. If they do, he’s going to do his best to reunite them. If they’re not adopted yet, expect Jinma to try and adopt them as well.

Jinma is big on school, so he tries to learn what kind of schooling works best for his child. Are they a tactile learner? A reader? Once he knows, he works in that learning preference for homework. 

Jinma is great at communicating with his adopted child, even if they aren’t a great talker. 

Jinma doesn’t need his child to call him dad, but if they do, he’ll be thrilled.

Dope

Dope could adopt any age of child and be happy

Dope is great at reading body language, so it’s easy for him to understand what is child is saying, even if they don’t want to talk initially. 

Dope is also very big on schooling, but he tries to find a school his child is comfortable with.

If his child was close with their foster parents, Dope is fine keeping them in their lives if they’re also okay with it. 

Dope reads to his kid every night. He will also never say ‘no’ if they want books from a store (but they have to be paperback)

Dope is the dad who will le their kid crawl into bed if they have a bad dream. He also gets up so you can sleep. 

Dope finds the best way to communicate with his kid, and loves spending time with them. 

Dope is what teachers fear. Parent teach night involves Dope trying to figure out lesson plans, accuracies in education, and making sure his child is set up to succeed. He’s both a pain in the ass for the teacher, and a blessing, since he will always be there if they need chaperones or any other volunteers. 

Hino

Hino would rather adopt a child that’s younger, but they don’t have to be a baby (he’s fine if they are though)

Hino puts all his love into his child. It doesn’t matter that they’re adopted, they’re his

Hino loves styling his child, but is fine when they pick out their own outfits (even if it hurts his inner fashionista)

Loves doing family activities with all of you together

If they have a nightmare, and need dad to be there, he’s going to fall asleep in their room

That dad that has waaayyyy too many pictures of his child. He screensaver is you and your child.

Hino is always there for any event, but avoids the PTA. 

That being said, he will volunteer for events, and weaponize his good looks. 

Builds up his child’s self-esteem. No matter what species they are, they’re beautiful. Not only that, but they’re smart and capable. Hino wants them to know there’s so much more besides looks. 

[chocominnie]

Desperado — 09 (M) | JJK

Pairing: Badboy!Jungkook X Reader

Summary : A messy situationship at it’s finest. You don’t even know whats headed your way, just even engaging in the slightest within him. See, he has an assignment to complete. A mission granted by his father thats do or die. You just so happen to be a major pawn in that assignment. He didn’t mean to take an interest in you. Surely it was an accident right? Only except. you hold much value in this game that he’ll do anything to complete it. Oblivious is what you are. Poor thing. Poor.. Poor thing.

Genre: Mature/ Mafia!Jungkook

Trailer: xxxxx  preview 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Word Count : 7.3k

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak…High angst, usage of drugs, drug mentions, mental illness, switch!jungkook, Brat reader, possible stockholm syndrom, kidnapping, assault, death of side characters, murder, weapons, usage of weapons, masturbation, physical violence, blood, alcohol, weed, unprotected and protected sex, spanking, honestly its a lot of aruging…

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

TW : Suicide, Body Hanging for display.

Her hair moves so flawlessly and the her breasts spill over the mini triangle bra with each sensual move she makes. The way her waist and body whines against the pole could leave absolutely anyone in a trance.The rhythm of the music blasts in the air and she’s directly on beat to it, not missing anything through the song playing. 

The led lights are dimmed low enough in a red color, but enough for everyone to see. Shes uncaring at the men in the room sizing her up in her designer high waisted thong that hugs her hips very well, showing off her round, plump ass. That was what she wanted, the attention all on her while they throw hundred dollar bills for her. 

“ Who knew someone could get down and dirty like that.”

To no suprise, Jimin, the ladies man but heartbreaker for sure, enters the private room and closing the door beind him. He throws a stack of money towards her, as he was the seemingly late one to the meet-up. 

“ Jungkook is late, he’s never late. What’s taking him so long?” A grumpy Namjoon says, looking down at his apple-watch. It’s half past 10 pm and usually he’s the first one here.

“ He’s probably sucking up to yn-”

The girl turns her head sharply towards the boys, overhearing what they said. She furrows her eyebrows at them, “ Why would he be doing that..”

Taehyung lets out a small groan. “ Because Mr. Lover boy has gotten himself a crush. The worst part is, she’s his target for this mission.”

“ Shut the fuck up. I don’t have a crush on her, i’m just doing my job.” A semi-loud voice roars through the doors. Everyone stops to look at the sudden intruder and to relief it’s him, Jungkook. 

Of course he has to lie about that. He knew for sure he caught himself up with you and the feelings were strong. Though the big bad mafia boy catching feelings for his target is highly uncommon, and Jungkook doesn’t know the consequences.

“ Jungkook..” The girl says, frowning at him with her hand on her hips. He takes a seat on the couch and tilts his head at her to go on. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the young boy. “ You fell for her.. so what about us?”

It isn’t hard to say that he doesn’t have any more feelings left for the girl. She and him both knew what they agreed upon. The pair had history together, sexual to be exact. Romance was hardly there if he were to be honest. She’d began actually working for Won-Shik, under this club they’re in now which is owned by him, a year ago. Jungkook had entered the club once when he was considered a minor, but that was to pass a message along to the girl from his father. He was told to go straight in and straight out. Of course, he did the exact opposite. Sat around looking at all the half naked women that night as the music blared loud. 

It wasn’t until his phone rang and it was Casper telling him to hurry up and come back to the car, is when he finally decided to get up and look for the girl. When he did find her, it was over with for him. The girl was, and still is, stunning. One of the many foreign girls in the club but she’s the one that stood out of all. She wore nothing but a small outfit as she danced on the pole. Her beauty mesmorized Jungkook that night as he watched her dance in awe. Soon enough she came to him showing her her dimply smile and perfect teeth.

He was stunned alright. She knew he looked to be too young for the club so she asked him his age. He told her, and thats when she nearly called security on him until he told her who he was and affiliated with. The message was passed along accordingly to her, she got the memo. Jungkook though, kept coming back to that club and always going to where she was, following her around the club like a lost puppy. She enjoyed his time, as all she did was sit and talk with him and that turned out to not be enough for him. He wanted her, and she insisted that he was too young for her. 

So Jungkook did what any other person would do when feeling rejected, he started to present himself like a true man and mafia boy. The gym was his favorite place after that and he buffed up very well. That jawline of his got sharper and his personality gained more confidence and dominant by the time he turned nineteen. He of course kept going at her, shooting his shot anytime he could and yet kept getting denied. It wasn’t until his nineteenth birthday is when he begged her telling her how bad he wanted her, and that lap dance he kept suggesting months before. Since it was his birthday and he was legal, she gave him what he wanted but that still wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her underneath him bad. The slight age gap between them didn’t phase Jungkook at all. What he wants, is what he gets. 

And he did.

And kept getting it, and getting it, and getting it since then. 

“ Relax baby, I’ll still be coming around you know that.” His voice is smooth, smirking at her.  He wasn’t going to be coming around as much, but he knew that would disappoint her. 

She purses her lips and begins walking towards him and sits directly on his lap, straddling him. Jungkook can’t push her off the way he wants to because it would confirm the crush rumors from the boys about you. So he lets her sit there, uncomfortable as hell for him. 

Namjoon clears his throat to get the rest of the group attention. It’s nearly 11 pm and Crystal has been blowing up his phone ever since he stepped foot in the club. He told her beforehand about the meeting, but she wanted him at her apartment by at least 1 am. 

“ We all know you love yn, but remember who you are Jungkook.” Namjoon says, glaring at the boy who returns the glare back at him. “ Fuck you. Like I said, im just doing my job.”

“ If you were doing your job Jungkook, there’s no way in the hell that it should take you this long. “ Jin retaliates. He knows hes right.

By this time, Jimin had finished preparing seven perfectly rolled blunts filled with the most finest imported weed. He places them onto the tray, taking his own and then passing the tray to Yoongi. Each of the boys take their own until it reaches down to Jungkook who takes his and puts the tray back onto the table. 

“ Enough about her. I was summoned to go over the details for the next seven days. “ Jungkook groans, sparking his blunt and inhaling. He passes it Melanie, who takes it to inhale as well. 

A malicious smile comes upon Yoongi’s face as he exhales the smoke into the already fogged up air. One thing he loves to talk about is torture. One of bangtan’s best walking torture device to be known.

“ Tonight we are starting.. I say you let me go first.” Yoongi pauses, taking a long inhale of his blunt. “ I’m coming for their trade transaction place. Arson, let me burn the bitch down and then fuck around with their father.”

It’s a good idea. Sending a message after burning it down straight to it’s opponent. Fire is Yoongi’s thing, and that’s his signature marking in the Bangtan Boys. The father of the shooter was one of their dealers, until the shooter’s father fucked up by taking money out of bangtan’s cut little by little. The boys knew about it, they waited for the perfect time back then to take action. Of course, giving them a mission to complete.. or so he thought. The mission was a false one. Created by Jungkook to catch him off guard. Jungkook used some of the mafia men on Won-Shik’s side to set up a trade off of drugs, decieving the shooter’s father by thinking they were just setting up a regular mafia trade from another gang. The trade was complete, but their protection was no more. Needless to say, the men didn’t even make it back to their cars. It was a bloodshed war between Jungkook’s assigned men and their men. The point was to send a memo that the Bangtan Boys were coming for them, and coming hard. 

Everynight for two weeks unimaginable signs were sent to their family. Ranging all the way from several gunshot bullets going through their home, to severed heads of previous betrayers of the bangtan boys, sitting right on their porch. By now, all the other gangs in Korea knew not to have any business with them. 

“ Day 2 I want it. I’m going for the mother. That scamming bitch and her precious flower shop? I’m shooting it up. Whoever lives, lives. Whoever dies, dies.” Jimin shrugs, smirking as he leans back in his spot.

“ Day 3, for me I’m sending another message. One of their men is gonna die in my god damn hands. I’ll be sure to take a selfie and send it to the father. The body will lay hanging on that pretty little oak tree in their yard.” Taehyung says. The boys are roar with shock that he’s said that. Normally he doesn’t like touching a dead body, so it’s a change for him.

The boys continue listing off the days and assigned tasks for the rest of the night into the wee early morning. Namjoon left after his, of course going straight to his girls apartment. They don’t judge him, seeing as though the boy really is in love and knows when and how to handle it. He definately doesn’t mix business and his love life together, unlike his other hyung.  Soon enough the banter and socializing ends and it’s time for Yoongi first. 

Night 1

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to find the place. The empty steets of Seoul have soon faded into just dirt roads with the city left behind. The humming of his porsche echos through the night time air. Yoongi takes one final turn, making sure to pull into the place slowly like a true hunter keeping it’s eye on its prey. It’s not a full house tonight, even better. 

Taking the jug of gasoline out his car, he carries it with ease up to the empty warehouse. The wildlife outside don’t make a noise. As if they know who’s approaching and just shut right up. Forty degrees fahrenheit outside and lastnight’s snowfall piled all around.The darkness outside is haunting, anything could pop out at any second to kill the man. That doesn’t scare him at all. Darkness is always what he crave. Inside and out. 

“ Sir.. do you want us to go in with you?” 

Yoongi stops dead in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten about the back-up men Jungkook ordered for him. It’s not like he needed them anyways, but since Jungkook can’t be there with Yoongi, that was the next best choice. 

Rolling his eyes without turning around,“ No. Wait in your cars. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Just like that. The boys are off like lightening. Yoongi takes one final step towards the two double doors, and begins to pour the gasoline at it’s starting point. Usually, he’d go from the inside out, but seeing as though he wanted them to scurry out fearing for their lives, this is the next option as well. Soon enough, the enire jug is empty and he’s now poured all of it around the outside of the warehouse. Leaves crunch with every step he makes back to the starting point. Part of him hopes they can’t hear him from the outside. It’ll ruin the plans. 

The lighter in his pocket feels so smoothe against his palms as he reaches for it. It’s one of his signature ones with his initials on it. An andrenaline rush runs through his veins as flicks the ignition with his thumb. The flame all bright and orange as he stands there infront of the building. It’s going to be a damn good night.

Without hesitating, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair and throws the lighter right onto the gasoline puddles. The way the whole ring of fire lights up infront of his eyes makes him laugh hysterically while watching the whole building go into flames. The loud crackling sounds of the now decomposing warehouse jumps him back into reality. 

He heads right towards the big tree next to the right of the warehouse, leaning on it with one foot up against it with his hands crossed. That sinister smile doesn’t leave his face. He enjoys the view of the men from the inside running out as fast as they can. Some falling in the ring of fire in the process. The fire is no match for any human as they try to stop drop and roll. Ha, as if that would work with a 15 foot fire consuming the warehouse. The dead bodies pile up on their own, just burning in the fire over their simple mistakes of falling and thinking they would survive the fire.

Until the golden egg comes out. He’s furious as runs out perfectly, as if he’s been through this, without managing to catch on fire. Yoongi chuckles, leaning off the tree. “ Kang Dong-Woo.”

Usually Yoongi would use the honorfics to people who were much older than him. In this case though, he doesn’t deserve honorifics. 

“ Min Yoongi.” He says, harshness laced within his voice. Dongwoo frowns when nearing the man. He knows what Yoongi is capable of, and that’s what sets his fight for flight into action.

“ Let’s get straight to it. Your daughter is after our leader. She seems to be doing the dirty work for you yeah? Did you not train her enough? Of course you know she wont be able to live after this right?”

Dongwoo laughs right into Yoongi’s face as if he was joking. It angers Yoongi, so he grabs Dongwoo by the shirt and drags the man over to the fire where he kicks the back of his legs to where he’s kneeling inches away from it. 

“ I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dongwoo.” He growls, tightening his grip around Dongwoo’s arms that are behind his back. “ You want to die?”

“ She’s gonna fuck you all over.” He growls.” You may think she’s not capable of finishing off you guys one by one, but she is. I raised and trained her since a kid. She’s stronger with more energy than me. She’ll kill you all when you least expect it.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.” The dumb bitch can’t even shoot right. Going for someone else knowing Jungkook would save them is an ameteur move. Should’ve went straight for his damn head.”

“ I’ll make sure she’ll bring you guys hell Min Yoongi. All of you. Tell that shit to Jungkook and his daddy for me alright?” He mocks, laughing again at the boy to taunt him.

Yoongi doesn’t care for it. He’s had enough of this foolish talk. With one swift move he kicks the man’s back making him fall down to the left side, away from the fire. He’s lost it. He’s totally lost it at this point and there is no going back. Kick after kick after kick, he doesn’t stop. No. Not until the Dongwoo is sure to cough up blood. The crimson liquid poors from his mouth as he lays there. No remorse is felt.

Besides, the bastard bitch needed to get the message. Consider it message recieved. 

Night 2

The flower shop is full, but not full to its entirety. There's tons of different bouquets and arrangements set around the pretty shop, from what he can see from the outside. It’s almost closing time, an hour left. Jimin’s fingertips grip on the steering wheel, anxious but patient to make his move. He’s running off of pure adrenaline and 2 cans of monster that are crushed and sitting in the passenger seat. Waiting isn’t his forte and he’d honestly like to get this show on the road now.

The moon is out and shining bright tonight. A sigh escapes his lips when he glances again at the shop. The only reason he’s not done it yet is due to the fact that there is a child and his mother inside. Rule number 2 of Bangtan, injure no child. The price to pay if you were to break the rule? Simply it would cost you your own damn life.

As if time would of went any slower for the boy, the child and his mother finally made their transaction and made it out of the store, heading across the street to continue their journey of shopping. It’s go time.

He knew to come prepared with his bulletproof vest and full face ski mask, long Sleeve black shirt to cover all the markings he has and also the two tattoos on each of his arms. He knew that the little lady wouldn’t be so dumb to not carry, or at-least have someone inside that would be her undercover security. Considering who her husband is, there’s no way she won’t be protected.

Oh how innocent the people look to not know what’s coming next. Jimin loads his Glock 19 with golden bullets that have Bangtan Boys initials and symbols on it just before pulling his mask down and getting out the car. He makes sure to signal his back-up men to create a distraction so he could make his entrance. Sure enough, a loud boom in the near distance of what sounds like some type of construction falling, echos loudly. It turns heads from all around to look where the sound came from, making it easy for Jimin to slide into the flower-shop.

Not a sound made by him. He draws his gun and pulls the safety off the trigger, then cocks it. Eyes are all on him as his eyes shift around the room looking for his target. There she is, eyes wide in the middle of a transaction for two middle aged couple. His eyes set into hers, lowly smiling and pointing it at her. The way everyone frantically screams and cries out doesn’t phase Jimin, no. It just encourages him even more as he starts firing shots mid air, shooting any and every person in sight for the hell of it. Bodies drop to the ground, and the bloodbath begins.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to step over everybody, eyes still set on his target. The middle aged couple’s shrieks were cut short by their bodies dropping to the ground with three shots each to their hearts.

“ Park J-” He cuts her crying off with a finger to his lips, daring her to say his name in public. She gets the memo. “ I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The barrel is pressed against her temple as she trembles with fear. He cocks his head to the side, smiling at her when he taps the gun against her head harshly, repeatedly. “ You know why I’m here.”

“ You kill me and she will murder you all.”

Jimin chuckles, “ That’s what you guys think. We don’t have time for your gimmicks. It was you guys who stole money from us. Why did you think you’d still be protected from the law from us? Getting your daughter to go for the leader first is dumb, like the rest of you.”

“ We almost went to prison for you guys, remember that? We needed that cut money from you guys to pay off our legal fees. Thats why we stole. We completed your dirty work while trying to pay off the fees, its the least you guys could of did as a reward.”

“ That’s not how it would’ve worked. You fucked up. All of you.”

With two shots to the leg, she falls into Jimins arms. He rolls his eyes and throws his body off of him and onto the floor. It’s going to be a headache trying to explain to the dry cleaners why there is blood stains on his designer ripped jeans.

Night 3

It was too easy, way too easy. It took nothing to lure that man right into Taehyung’s trap. Nothing but a simple few slick comments made to him for him to get a riled up at the wrong person. Taehyung had spotted the man prior heading into the park with a small duffle bag. He assumed it was for a night trade off for some other person who had delivered drugs for him. Nontheless, it was merely too easy to pose as the alleged person who completed the mission. 

A rookie. That guy must’ve been a rookie. 

When the money was handed off to Taehyung, he tossed it to the side and struck the man down. The two did fight on the concrete floor for a bit but the man was no match for Taehyung’s quick moves. Taehyung’s pocket knife dances around the man’s throat as his body is pinned to the ground. 

“ Rookie mistake not verifying if I’m the real one.” He chuckles, pressing the blade against the mans neck. The man pleads for his life but it’s no use. Message must be sent, that it’s no way you’ll fuck around with Bangtan and escape.

“ You know, I would’ve trained you more than Dongwoo. Letting the weakest link go run an errand? Ha. Your boss set you up for that one.” 

Although the man is merely innocent, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from slicing into the man’s neck. A blood curdling scream comes out, but soon hushed over as his will of breathing and screaming is cut. It’s music to Tae’s ears. 

The body is transfered per request of Taehyung to his back-up men. It’s not like him to touch a bloody dead body. So they take him into the back of their car and follow Taehyung to the residential house of the shooter. Nothing more than 10 minutes away. 

The lights are cut off in the neighborhood. Not a sound made other than the two cars coming down the street. Everyone seems to be at peace and quiet in their homes. Sleeping to say the least. Upon arrival, Taehyung parks his car right infront of the house. The back-up men drag the bloody body out the car and onto their lawn, placing it right under the oak tree. 

Taehyung takes the rope be brought along with him, and begins to tie multiple knots around a sturdy branch from the tree. When done, he wraps some of the rope around the dead boy’s neck, tying it into a slipknot and hoists him up high into the air. 

The body dangles from the tree like a flag waving in the sky proud and high. He signals for the boys that the assignment is done and that they’re free to leave. Taehyung though, he just sits back in admiration of his work. It’s been a while sinice he felt this way. So he stands there soaking it all in. 

Message recieved. 

Since it’s been three entire days of hell, Jungkook knew his day will be approaching faster than ever. If only it could get here faster though. Truth is, Won-Shik isn’t too happy about Jungkook’s plan still not being complete. At this point, the father is going against him any chance he gets to just get this over with. 

Luckily, tonight he’d be able to meet with his father again with some good news. It hasn’t been brought to his attention yet about your father being in Taiwan. With the technology of Won-Shik’s men, your father could be brought here within 12 hours tops. 

“ Father.” Jungkook says, entering his office doors. The boy fixes his leather jacket upon entering and places his hands back into his pockets. “ I have news.”

Won-Shik is one to not play around with. Interupting his office time is a big, big deal. One is to not enter without it being urgency. That rule still applies to the heir of the company. “ It better be damn good because your plan isn’t getting anywhere Jeon Jungkook.”

Won-Shik takes his glasses off and sets them to the side on his desk. Its full of papers and photos of himself and Jungkook when he was a child. His favorite one right in the middle, where Jungkook had just ate some cherry flavored ice cream and his lips were all red as he smiled for the camera showing his two front teeth. It reminded him of when Jungkook was easier to manage rather as to now where he’s a damn menace.

“ Taiwan. Her father is in Taiwan. I don’t think it’s Taipei though.. he’s hiding so a city wouldn’t be ideal. I say search the mountains first, then the city.”

Bringing this proposal to the table meant that Jungkook wanted to atleast gain his father’s trust back. Hell, he wanted all this to be over with by now because you were driving him crazy to the point where he’s beginning to actually forget who the hell he was and why he was assigned this mission. The plan was not to fall, but to complete. He’d be lying if he wasn’t knee deep in love with you right now. It all comes down to him protecting you from his father at this point. 

“ So your little plan is suddenly working huh.. still doesn’t mean she gets to run free Jungkook.” He says, smirking at the boy to challange him. Jungkook knew that. Once it’s proven that your father is the snitch, all of the family dies.

You’re innocent. Too innocent to know that or to be even tangled in that mafia mess of his. Part of him wishes he never met you and never had been assigned this mission. Then everything would be so damn different and emotions wouldn’t be caught up in this. From the moment he met you, he knew it would be hard. You have always held a special part in his heart. Only because you acted just like his mother. Sweet, but sassy and it hurt him a lot on how you remind him of her. You even word your words just like her, even when upset. Everything about you, is just like her. 

It was hard to not get attached to wanting to get to know you more. Somehow he thought that if he got to know you, he’d somehow fill that hole inside him of his mother’s disappearance. As if you were going to be his new replica as you would be the one to put a band-aid on that hole to patch it up. 

Here you are, not knowing you could die any moment and it will all be thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who couldn’t save you fast enough. 

“ I know. But she’s innocent. She doesn’t even know her dad worked with us. I swear she doesn’t.”  Jungkook bites his lip in hopes that there could be someway to save you by the hands of your father.

 “ I dont care!” He roars, jumping out his seat. Jungkook flinches, backing up a bit from the sudden outburst. “ You know not to mix business and pleasure. You reap what you sew. You get to pay the consequences.”

Jungkook knew that though. 

“ Father-”

“ Nothing more. I’ll have my team start the search right now. You on the other hand, get you god-damn shit together Jungkook. You’re the heir, not a damn lover-boy. Got it?”

It is no use of arguing with him. Jungkook looks down at the ground and nods his head yes just before Won-Shik dismisses him. It’s going to hurt. Seeing you dead. He hopes for a miracle can happen, that your father will not be the snitch. That you and him could live happily ever after. There will no be any happily ever after about this situation though. One will die. Just a matter of who it will be. 

The vibrating sensation in his pocket snaps him out of his trance. An incoming call from Namjoon. It’s alarming since today is Namjoon’s day of hell, and only one thing could be happening right now if he’s calling for Jungkook. 

There’s been a mistake.

“ What is it Namjoon.” 

“ She fucking outsmarted me. The bitch caught on to where my location would be for the next kill. I don’t know where the fuck she is Jungkook.. this is bad.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, closing his eyes while letting out strings of curses come from his mouth. Shit couldn’t get possibly worse than this right now. Namjoon said he’d wanted to go straight for the killer and bust her up a bit. Give her some words and a branding on her. He had wanted to do it with a knife, carving the initals of Bangtan Boys into her upper hip. Namjoon had zero problem tracking her next location down, as he had been keeping an eye on her all day. To him, it seemed as if she would be heading to an orchestra shop in the city. Every step she took, Namjoon took it too. 

Until she rounded the corner to go inside the shop and she wasn’t there. There wasn’t any outlet. The shop was on a dead end street surrounded by other shops that they both had passed. There was no way she didn’t go back, he would of saw it. He saw her go into the store, so she had to be there right?

Wrong. You see she knew all this time that Namjoon was followering her while in disguise. The orchestra shop where she led him to, she knew the owner. They were good friends. She had spoken to him asking if that she could use his upstairs office to read over some of the newest edition of music pieces for her to practice. He obliged, and she made up there in time before Namjoon came inside.

Up there, she’d be lying if she wasn’t scared to death. All this week the boys had definately given her hell. Each day with zero remorse. It was taking a toll on her for sure. Taking up this assignment by herself wasn’t something easy but she wanted to prove to him that she can be just like him. That she wanted to work with him too to take down Bangtan for decieving them and leaving them in the dust. 

She can’t do it. The boys are to expierenced for her. It’s a bad mistake that she cannot come back from. You see, she thought it would be easy to befriend you and become close to you after you’d laid eyes upon Jungkook your first day here. She knew you’d soon fall for him, like any other girl did, and that would be her easy acess to him from you. It was all planned beforehand. To be quiet and observe you and your moves with him. In her mind, Jungkook needed to die first. The boys can’t function all that well without him, so that would be the weak spot to take advantage of if he would’ve died when she knew he’d take the bullet for you. She coudn’t shoot him first, it’d be too straightforward and blunt. 

It was going all well. Deep in the inside she was jealous of you as well. Sungmin had been her crush for years, they even almost dated. Until you came along and he left her in the dust for you. Sungmin is everything she wanted in a boy, but you took that away from her. Her chances to date him ruined by you. It hurt everyday to see him head over heels in love with you, when that was just her at one point before you came along. Not only that, but she seen the way you play with Sungmin’s emotions. It made her upset that you do that. Sungmin’s love is a drug, whether it be friendship love or romantic, nobody can get enough of it. 

All this stressed her out to her max. Her family being hurt because of her, her mom unable to walk for the next few weeks is all because of her. Only cause she cannot complete this task she brought onto herself. As if being in danger because of Won-Shik and Bangtan wasn’t enough beforehand, she just made things worse all in all. There is no way out of this for her and her family. So it’s time to just accept it and say goodbye to it all and start a new life. 

“ I’ll find her. You wait at the base and I’ll report back to you guys after I find her. When I do, you will come and finish your damn task Namjoon. Do you hear me?” Jungkook’s beyond pissed at this point. If it wasn’t for him, the boys would be lost as fuck without him.

He shoots Casper a text, letting him know that he is to follow him closely as he searches for her. To his luck, Casper was already outside his apartment building in his car. Not long after he pops those contacts in and changes his outfit again, he’s cruising the streets of Seoul in his midnight purple lamborghini. 

The pain in his shoulder throbs with each turn he has to make with the wheel of his car. A little pain medicine would of helped beforehand, but rushing to get this shit over with was more important. This bitch definately has it coming. It’s been taking Jungkook these past few days to not just up and kill her. No that would just be too easy. Torture and marinating her to lose her shit at the last minute is something so satisfying to him. 

The streets of Seoul soon end behind him and the Mappo Bridge comes into view. It had been an a whole hour searching around the areas of where she could’ve been, including where she was last seen. No sights of her at all. She’s good at this for sure. Text messages are sent back and forth between the boys and Jungkook. They’re all on edge, tired, and frustrated at this chasing game that they’re all playing.

He’d almost missed it. The body walking alongside the side-walk of the bridge with their head hanging low and hoodie on. It’s the hoodie of his school, but most importantly it has their class graduation year on it. It has to be her. Jungkook flashes his hazard lights on, letting Casper know to pull over with him. 

It’s now or never.

After sending the text to Namjoon, he’s out the car and jogging towards the suspect. Height, body type, and shoes match the alleged identity. It seems she’s too into something to notice the extra footsteps behind her. He can’t do anything to her though, it’s not his night. 

“ Kang Minlee.”

She stops dead in her tracks as if a ghost had called her name. Frozen, she stands there contemplating on running or staying. If she runs, she’s dead. If she stays, shes dead. 

“ You think..” He pauses, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. Her face is red from crying and her glasses all fogged up from underneath her mask. For a split second, Jungkook does feel regret. 

Killing a classmate of his wasn’t something he’d ideally let happen. But it’s far too late to not have her killed off. “ You think that running away is the best option?”

Minlee trembles underneath his grip, “ I made a mistake. Please just let me go. Let me and my family go and we’ll leave you alone forever.” She breaks down into tears, placing her hand over his in attempt to let her go. 

It didn’t hurt Jungkook to see her like this. All in all it just feels weird to him. Weird to have one of his classmates begging for her life to be spared from the gruesome events to come. 

“ You know I can’t do that.” It honestly can’t be an option at this point. It’d be better to just continue out her days of hell with her family. “ You came for me, that means you die.”

Finally she jerks her arm back from his still in tears as she starts to back away slowly. Jungkook knew that she wouldn’t run. Not in this case. Letting her cry it out was the best way, hell it’s the only way because Namjoon would be here any minute to brand her. It would mean she belonged to Bangtan after that, and she’d have to keep quiet as they planned out her death.

Her sudden movement from the ground to climbing up the railing of the bridge alarms Jungkook. She cries louder when Jungkook comes closer to getting her down so he stops. Suicide? Right now? What happened to being all big and bold? It confuses Jungkook as to why she would take her own life right now. Either way she’d still end up dead and unhappy if Bangtan would kill her or she’d kill herself. 

“ Jungkook!” She semi-yells, pointing to the direction behind him as another guy approaches them. Just in time, the sound of Namjoon’s car can be heard from afar. He’s getting close.

The guy she’s pointed to is Casper, who’s also alarmed at the fact that she’s close to the edge right now. Jungkook holds his hand up at Casper for him to stop right there and shakes his head, meaning that it’s too risky for Casper to step in right now. Casper nods and Jungkooks turns back to the scene. 

“ Don’t you think that I’ve suffered enough? Everyday you guys give me hell. My mom can’t walk because of you guys, and my dad has health issues. You left us in the dust when we needed your support the most! I was almost put up for adoption a year ago because of you!” She sobs, wiping her never ending tears with her hoodie sleeves. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, or do. It’s not like him to have sympathy over a rival. It’s just not in him at this very moment. 

Minlee continues on, “ Yn? She took what’s mine. My Sungmin. She plays with his heart and it hurts him a lot. I wouldn’t have did that. But no, he’s head over heels in love with him. I got left in the dust when she came along and it looks like everyone loves her, including you Jungkook. My friendgroup does anything and everything she wants because she’s just oh so little miss perfect. That was supposed to be me!”

There it is. The jealousy. Jungkook would have never known it. It’s all news and shock to him. Sungmin and Minlee? Didn’t seem like a match to begin with. 

Her dramatic meltdown continues on, but Jungkook allows it. Namjoon will be here any minute to sneakily get her down. Where is he and why the hell is he taking so long?

As if on cue, Namjoon pulls up to the scene and immediately gets out his car running towards the girl. Jungkook waves his hands for him to stop, eyes wide with a finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to jump. A death from their school? Surely was to be put on him and his boys. 

Namjoon stops infront of Jungkook’s car, confused as to what’s going on. Jungkook mouthes to him the words suicide attempt. That’s when Namjoon gets it and decides to let him handle getting her down. 

“ Yeah it was meant to be you. But I plan to take Yn away anyways. Then you and Sungmin could come together again.” Jungkook’s convincing isn’t convincing enough, she doesn’t buy it at all.

“ If I get down I’m going to die. There is no escaping that within the next few days i’d be dead in your hands. I made a mistake and there is no going back. Spare my parents. Let them live. I’m the one that started this. I’ll be the one to finish it.”

The girl lifts one foot off the railing and leans backwards. Jungkook’s breath hitches along with Namjoons. No. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

“ Kang Minlee!” They both scream, running towards her. It’s too late though. Her body falls gracefully down as all three of them watch over the railing. She looks peaceful, a smile on her face while her body is sprawled out in the air.

Inches before she hits the water, the three of the boys look away with only the sound of dense water splashing to fill their ears. Namjoon sighs, putting his hands against his head. Jungkook stands there in complete shock. Casper, well Casper just shakes his head knowing the two boys weren’t prepared for that.

“ We fucked up Jungkook.”

“ I fucking know that Namjoon.” His voice cracks. It isn’t like Jungkook to cry. No not at all. Especially for a target like that. At the end of the day she was human and she did what any daughter would do for her family.

 She was also your friend.

You hadn’t heard about her death yet the next day. It’s a normal saturday morning for you. This time you’d decided to go to the cafe with your laptop and write your essay for your Psychology class. The cafe is nice, it’s cat themed and has some pretty kittens running around the outside of the kitchen and customer service area. 

As soon as you order and sit down with your Caramel frappe you spot a white kitten laying near you on the floor. A smile comes upon your face when it comes to you when you call for it. They don’t have these in Canada. Cat Cafes. The kitten lets out his purrs when you rub his back as he lays across your lap. The nametag says Mochi, a cute name for a cute kitten. 

Minutes seem to pass by without your knowledge. You’d been too into typing to hear the news on the tv being broadcasted live. It wasn’t until you heard suicide of a teenage student on Mappo Bridge. That got your attention.

You listen carefully as the news reporter goes into detail of how the body was found. It had gotten caught on a rock as the stream moved it around. A mother had found it with her kid as they walked across the bridge that early morning to look at beautiful water. It saddens you to know someone took their life. Maybe if that person had access to getting help, they’d live to see many more days. 

When they announce the name and show a school picture of the student, the look on your face drops. 

Minlee. It’s Minlee on the screen. Its all too much for you right now. Your stomach twists and turns along with your hands that begin fidgeting. She seemed so healthy and happy these past few days when you saw her. It didn’t add up. It wasn’t going to ever add up to you that you had just lost one of your new friends.

Packing your things up in a hurry, your phone begins to go off with a bunch of text messages at a time. You know it could be the groupchat. What you wanted to the most right now, is to go home to cry and calm down. You shove everything in your backpack and place the kitten back on the floor nicely before taking off towards the door. You bump into somebody on the way out, causing them to drop a picture in their hand. The two of you both reach to pick it up, but they pick it up first before you.

“ I’m sorr-”

You’ve seen her before. Long curled hair, big dimple on her left cheek, and bangs. 

There’s no fucking way. 

[backtothefanfiction]

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 5

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: One good night out turns into a two month affair.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Drug use, relationship abuse, mental manipulation, drinking, cheating, angst, language, smut, praise, fingering, slightly rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex (you know the phrase kids...).

Word Count: 6335

A/N- This is a heavy chapter so I have done a longer authors note here. Please read before continuing if you haven’t already read it. Events in this chapter take place 11 months before Italy and a couple weeks after Will’s chapter.

PART FIVE| 11 MONTHS AGO

'Hey Will said you were back. Want to go grab a drink tonight?'

'Yea, sure. Who else is gonna be there?'

'No one else, unless you want to invite others. I kinda just wanted to spend some time with you and catch up.'

'Okay, sounds good to me.'

Frankie had run into Will as he was coming out of a bar earlier that afternoon. He was grateful that Will hadn't notice him coming out through the doors of the establishment, allowing him the chance to pretend like he was just in the neighbourhood; and the fact they had run into each other outside a bar was just coincidence. When Will had casually dropped into conversation that you were home and that he had seen you, that had triggered something in Frankie. Whether it was just his slightly drugged up and alcohol riddled mind or something else, Frankie couldn't tell, but he knew he couldn't get you out of his head.

Frankie had always had a thing for you, ever since Benny first brought you home with him after your last tour together and introduced you to everyone. You were gorgeous, deadly and had a wicked sense of humour, you were everything he wanted in a woman and that's why he had been absolutely terrified to make a move. As time went on and you found your place amongst the group, Frankie came to appreciate how lucky he was just to have you in his life and as a friend and as time moved on further still, it became clear to him that he'd completely missed his chance.

He had started dating Laura just over a year ago now. She was nice, pretty, sassy. She reminded him of a slightly watered down version of you and believing he had fully missed his chance with you and would never get the real you, he figured he could do a lot worse than settling for Laura.

Around month nine of the relationship Frankie started to recognise he wasn't happy. He soon found himself relapsing into old habits he'd fallen into after he'd first come home for good and the PTSD had settled in. It started off as sneaking a bump off someone in the bathroom of a bar one night when they had gone out for drinks with some of Laura's friends. Just a little something to get him through the rest of the evening. A couple of days later it had happened again. It was only when Frankie had dug out his old burner phone from a lock box in the garage and contacted his old dealer, did he realise he was no longer in control anymore, but he didn't care. That's how he had ended up drunk texting you at half past three on a Tuesday afternoon asking you to go out with him for the evening so he didn't have to be at home with 'her'.

---------------------------

“Hey.” you said getting up from the booth you had commandeered as you waited for him to arrive.

“Hey.” he grinned as he wrapped you up into his arms, his head burying into your hair. It was so soft and smelt amazing, like coming home. “You been waiting here long?” he asked as he reluctantly pulled away from you, both of you sitting yourselves back in the booth. Frankie had taken a moment longer than he should have to get out of his truck when he had first arrived, prioritising snorting another line of coke up his nose off his dashboard, instead of coming straight in to you. A slight panic fogged his brain as he feared he'd taken longer than he had and made you wait ages for him.

“Nah, I only got here like 5 minutes ago or something like that.” You confessed and Frankie relaxed a bit. “Do you want me to go get the first round?” you asked, pointing towards the bar.

“No, its alright, I'll get it.” Frankie said hopping up from the seat. “What do you want?”

“I'll just take a beer.” you replied. You really were a girl after his own heart.

Frankie came back with two bottles of beer a few minutes later, handing one over to you as he tried to manoeuvre himself back into the booth without using his hands. “So when did you get back?” he asked casually, a typical conversation starter.

“Nearly two weeks ago.” you said, taking a sip of your beer.

“Where did you go again?” Frankie asked, his memory of where you'd been the last 6 months hazy.

“Colombia.” you said.

“Ahh, te dio la oportunidad de trabajar en tu español.” Ahh, gave you an opportunity to work on your Spanish.

“Cállate, mi español es muy bueno. Después de todo, aprendí de los mejores.” Shut up, my Spanish is great. I did learn from the best after all, you said stroking his ego and making him blush slightly.

“So what were you doing down there?”

You looked down at your bottle, unable to meet his eyes. “A whole load of stuff that, probably wasn't very legal.” you said, giving him as vague an answer as you possibly could. You looked up, expecting him to have a judgemental look on his face, but instead you were met with one of sympathy. You'd all landed yourselves in some form of shit or another since leaving active service and Frankie was the last person who could pass judgement.

You sat there for almost an hour just talking, drinking your first beers slowly. “You want another one?” Frankie asked, motioning to the empty bottle in your hands that you were now peeling the label off of.

“Yeah, sure.” you said with a smile. You looked to your left to find the pool table had also just become free. “Do you want a game?” you said motioning to the table where the last occupants were throwing the cues on top of it.

“Yeah sure. I'll go get the beers, you go rack ‘em up.” he said, hopping out of the booth with a smile.

You made your way over to the pool table, reaching your hand into the pocket of your jeans, searching for loose change. You took the quarters out, slotting them into the machine. The balls dropped like thunder as they were released, rolling towards the end of the table so you could pull them out the hole in the side. You rolled the discarded pool cues to the side of the table as you reached for the triangle, placing it on the top near you. You bent down to pull out the balls, dropping them blindly inside the triangle above your head. When you had pulled out the last one you stood and was met with Frankie's still smiling face making his way back over to you.

He handed you the beer and you took a sip before placing it on the edge of the table so you could use both your hands to pick out the balls, moving them into their correct spots within the triangle, then sliding them all into place. “Who's going first?” you asked Frankie who had put the pool cues that had been on the table, back into the rack on the wall, choosing his own to play with in the process.

“Well that depends, you get any better at breaking.” you screwed up your mouth at the cheap shot he'd just taken. You were a decent pool player but you were awful at getting the game started.

“Fine Morales, looks like you're going first.”

“Thank you.” he said, jokingly tipping his head at you as he put himself in position at the end of the table.

There was a loud crack as Frankie hit the triangle, the balls bouncing off each other in different directions. You winced in disbelief as he managed to pot two balls with just one shot. He flashed his eyebrows at you, showing off. “You know I think that was one of each.” you taunted him, bringing him back to earth. “You can only chose one, what's it gonna be?”

“Just because I know how much you love playing stripes...” he said leaving the sentence open with a shrug before moving himself around the table to pot one of the solid coloured balls. For a moment, both of you watched eagerly expecting it to go in, but it leaned to the right at the last second and bounced back, away from the hole.

You took a quick sip of your beer before placing it back on the side. “Ready to see how it's done.” you teased, dancing around the table sizing up your first shot. You started out with an easy shot, potting it with not much trouble. Frankie gave you a small nod of acknowledgment before you began circling the table again, working out your next move. You saw it near the corner. You lined up your shot and... clunk, you sank another ball into the hole.

You stood back from the table grinning as you looked over to him, ready to taunt. “That's two.” you said, a faint giggle at the end of the sentence. You danced around the table again looking for the next one. You decided to try your luck but ultimately missed.

“Hey, you can’t get them all in one go.” he said, pushing himself off the wall where he had been leaning. He handed you his beer to hold as he took his go. He fumbled his shot and you were soon handing his drink back to him to take your next go.

It had ended up being a quick game. You had won, easily potting ball after ball, much to Frankie's amazement. “Okay, you had to have been cheating. I want a rematch.” Frankie said, playfully challenging you.

“I mean, I am more than happy to give you one... then beat your ass again and then again and again.” you laughed.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Just rack 'em up again. I gotta go to the restroom.” he said backing away towards the door to the toilets.

When Frankie came back from the toilet he carried himself differently. He seemed both a little bit shinier but also spacey. It was a look you had recognised in people around you many times and had even, on occasion, experienced yourself. You had experimented with drugs a few times over the years, sometimes to keep your cover when trying to get intelligence out of a contact, other times just because it was a night out and you wanted to let your hair down. You never made a habit of it though. You never would have pegged Frankie of making a habit of it either, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to you, as you thought back on his behaviour at the start of the night, that it was.

“Hey, you ready?” he said as he picked his pool cue back up, snapping you away from your internal monologue. 'He's a grown man, he knows what he's doing' you berated yourself, shrugging off his actions. “You wanna break this time?” he asked you, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

You pulled a face of discomfort. “Uhh.”

“Come on, I'll help you. You'll never get better if you don't practice.”

“Fine.” you said rolling your eyes, your footsteps falling heavier, stomping, mocking a stroppy teenager. He laughed.

“Come here.” He said ushering you to the table and taking a stance behind you. “You're problem is you doubt yourself and then get shaky on your follow through.” He said as you leant forward and lined your cue up with the ball. He leaned over with you, one hand on your left arm, helping hold it steady, the other finding a home over your hand on the cue.

He helped guide it back and you relaxed into his touch as you let him manipulate the shot. It was a gentle, yet forceful, nudge of the cue that sent the white ball careening quickly towards the waiting triangle of balls at the other end of the table. You turned back to him, smiling in triumph at the clack of balls as they scattered across the table. That's when you realised how close the two of you were. You couldn't help but look directly into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, somehow they were both bright and glassy at the same time.

You weren't sure why you were doing it, but you found your fingers reaching for the front pocket of his jeans, hooking just the tips of them in slightly, nudging the bag of blow. His eyes grew panicked as you began to pull the small baggy from his pocket, curling it into your fingers. You bit your lower lip, trying to search his eyes for how he was going to react, if he was going to react. He didn't move. A part of you thought about just getting rid of it, just tossing it out, but you were having a good time with Frankie, he was having a good time with you. You felt safe and it had been so long since you'd had a good night out you thought 'fuck it'.

Neither of you said anything as you began to creep away, bag still firmly scrunched into your fingers. Frankie tried to act casual, attempting to go back to focusing on the game as you snuck off to the toilet. He assumed you had gone to get rid of the coke, he never imagined you'd have some yourself.

You rushed into one of the stalls, quickly assessing how best to go about this. You decided that none of the surfaces were sanitary enough to do this properly. You sighed, half excited, half still berating yourself for stooping to this, as you took a seat on top of the toilet lid. You tucked your hair out of the way before opening up the baggy and tapping only a small amount of the white powder onto the back of your hand. You listened a second, making sure there was no one else in the bathroom with you. Silence. You quickly lifted the back of your hand to your nose, closing off one of the nasal passages and then sucking in all of the powder, with your intake of air, with the other.

You'd forgotten how awful it felt in that first moment, your nose burning. You coughed and continued sniffing as you attempted to clear the passage, waiting for the initial pain and discomfort to subside. It only took a moment for the rush of euphoria to set in. You resealed the bag, then wiped off any remaining remnants on your hands, before tucking the baggy back into your clutched fingers, hiding it, as you left the stall. You quickly checked yourself over in the mirror, self consciously wiping underneath your nose, then fixing any stray hairs.

As you went back out into the bar, the effects of the drug really started to settle in. Everything seemed shinier and brighter, happier. You made your way back over to Frankie who was stood leaning against his pool cue, awaiting your return.

He stared at you intensely, trying to work out what it was that you had done with the drugs. It was only when you came to a stop directly in front of him and he got a look at your eyes did he realised what you'd truly done. He found himself breaking out into a small smile of adoration, impressed by your courageousness, but it carried with it this underlining guilt in the pit of his stomach. That feeling of guilt though was quickly quashed altogether by another feeling as you pressed yourself close to him once again so you could discreetly put the little bag back in his pocket. You gave him a sly smile and that was it. That was the moment Frankie knew he was completely in love with you. You gave him a coy grin before reaching for your pool cue and continuing the game.

Watching the coloured balls dance across the table top when you hit them, felt so much more satisfying now. You didn't even care if you were losing as long as you got to keep watching the balls of colour roll back and forth across the table. You enjoyed your beer and your company, you and Frankie nudging each other and taking any chance possible to touch one another now you were both happy and relaxed. “Come on Morales.” you said as you placed your hands over his shoulders, giving them an over exaggerated massage like he was about to go into a fight. He tried to shrug you off so he could concentrate and sink his last ball. You stopped your movements but didn't take your hands away and both of you froze watching the ball intently as he took the shot. Clunk.

He stood up straight and whirled around, wrapping you in his arms, a big grin on his face. “You know I let you win right?” you teased him.

“Sure you did.” he said placing a kiss on top of your head before leaning back slightly so he could get a better look at your smile, his arm still firmly around your shoulder. He leaned back against the table, his legs spread apart slightly so you could rest between them. You were both smiling content in the embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away.

Frankie moved his hands to rest against your hips as he began to wrestle with the idea that had just popped into his head. He looked longingly to your lips, wanting to kiss them. Your smile faded as you scanned his face, realising what he was thinking. It was probably only 3 or 4 seconds but it felt so much longer due to the pace at which your next thoughts flooded your head. 'Oh my gosh, are we gonna kiss? What about Laura? Maybe they broke up? Oh I really want to kiss him.' then his lips were on yours and it was like someone had just set off a bunch of fireworks in your brain. Your head felt like it was fizzing and tingling, you couldn't help but smile as you melted into the kiss.

Frankie felt your lips pull tight against his as your smile burst from your lips and it only encouraged his own. He pulled away only briefly so you could both acknowledge how happy you were right then in that moment, but you quickly closed the gap again, practically throwing yourself into him, desperate to feel that tingling feeling in your brain again. At your enthusiasm, Frankie wasted no time deepening the kiss, his hands snaking down to your ass and pulling you tighter to him. This was everything he ever wanted, what he'd dreamed about for years now and it was finally happening. It felt better than he could have ever imagined it to be. Your kisses were powerful and hungry and for a moment you both almost forgot where you were.

Frankie quickly broke the kiss. You were about to protest when he took hold of your hand and started leading you to the door.

Neither of you said anything as he lead you to his truck. He gave you one more quick passionate kiss before opening the passenger side door to you and encouraging you to get in. You happily hopped in before turning back to give him another kiss as he closed the door.

He drove you both back to your place, using his spare key to let you both into the apartment. You had given each of the boys a spare key to your place just in case of emergencies but this was the first time you'd ever seen Frankie use his and it made you happy. The image of it felt so natural to you, like you were both coming home together after a long day.

You didn't have time to revel in the domesticity of it though as Frankie pulled you inside, rapidly closing the door before latching his lips back onto yours. You felt him lift you up into his arms and he carried you to your bedroom.

Your feet dropped back to the floor as you both made it through the doorway, Frankie wasting no time to start undressing you and himself between hungry kisses, both of your tongues fighting to pull each other back together after every break.

When you were both completely naked Frankie wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, lifting you slightly, walking you both towards the bed which you collapsed onto together, Frankie coming to lay on top of you. You reached your hands up into his hair as he covered your naked body with his own. It was only in that moment that you fully realised he hadn't been wearing his trademark hat this evening. You made a mental note of the actions significance and happily kept smiling and giggling into his kisses.

A sudden feeling took over in the pit of your stomach as you watched Frankie's gaze darken, his lust for you taking over at your joyful sounds and the way your naked body moved underneath him. You felt his hands move to your hips and he suddenly flipped you over onto your stomach before guiding your hips up so you were resting on your knees, your ass and pussy on full display for him. “Oh god.” Frankie groaned at the sight. “Hold it there baby, there's something I wanna do.”

You felt him get off the bed and heard him shuffle around on the floor for something. It took you a moment for your brain to realise what he was doing. He was rooting back into his pocket for the cocaine. You thought about saying something but decided not to for fear it would ruin the moment and this would all stop. This was Frankie. You had wanted this for so long and you were willing to put up with anything just to have his love and attention all to yourself.

You felt his hand smooth over your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, giving it a squeeze before he let go. You shifted your head slightly so you could look back and watch him as he opened the little baggy and began gently patting the powder out of it, leaving a line of it across your right cheek. The dark look in his eyes as he stared at the sight made your knees want to go weak. He could sense the slight tremble within you, “Hold still for me baby.” he said as he took hold of you again, his hands firmly placed either side of your ass, holding you still. You closed your eyes, thinking if you didn't see what was about to happen, maybe you could act like it never did.

It all happened so quickly you didn't even have time to really take it in. Frankie quickly leant down, taking the powder up his nose, his tongue coming out to lick up any remaining powder before he thrust his face between your folds. You let out a startled squeal of pleasure as you felt Frankie's tongue dive straight in, catching you completely off guard. His patchy facial hair tickled your skin and you jerked back further towards his face, Frankie moaning in pleasure at the feeling.

He quickly pulled his mouth away, thrusting two fingers inside you instead, stretching you out and making sure you were ready. His fingers took a moment to explore your heat and you moaned as this thick fingers stroked your inner walls. You let out a groan when he took his fingers out and you were about to lift your head to turn and whine pathetically about it when he suddenly thrust his cock inside you.

“Oh fuck.” you cried out as you attempted to adjust to his size. He leant over you, his arm wrapping around your upper chest, pulling you to your hands. His head nuzzled into your neck, trying to get you to turn your head so he could kiss you. As you began to turn it towards him, his hand that had been holding your chest moved up to grasp your jaw, forcing your lips to his. He felt you clench around him as you reacted to the power move and he gently rolled his hips into you, your back arching, trying to encourage him even deeper.

He began pounding into you rapidly as he straightened himself up again. His grip on your hips was firm, holding you steady, pulling you back into him with every thrust. The feeling was overwhelming and the lingering effects of the cocaine only heightened everything more. “Oh my god baby, you feel so fucking good.” he praised you as your moans of pleasure rang out through the room.

You felt him lean forward again and you turned your head, seeking out his lips once more. “I've wanted this for so fucking long.” he grunted out between kisses. He almost melted when you moaned back into his lips in response to his words. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your back into his chest again, making his rapid thrusts even deeper. He was hitting a certain spot inside you and it was devastating, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head as you relaxed it against his shoulder.

A feeling began to rise inside you. It felt so overwhelming and rapid you weren't even sure what was happening until it had already happened. Frankie felt your walls pushing back against him and when he thrust back he was forced out of you completely, your release gushing all over his cock and the bed. “Jesus fucking Christ did you just-” he couldn't even say the word. He was so fucking happy and impressed, but he saw the look of surprise on your face. He quickly crashed his lips into yours as he tried to reassure you that what had happened was a good thing. No a great thing. “Fucking do it again for me baby.” he said as he lined himself back up with your entrance and thrusted himself inside you once more.

You couldn't help but cry out, your mouth falling open against his. You felt so sensitive between your legs it didn't take much time at all before Frankie had you squirting again. “That's it, that's my girl. You're so fucking beautiful when you do that baby.” he said as he turned you around to face him. He could tell your eyes were unfocussed, completely blissed out from each devastating orgasm he was pulling from you.

He placed his hands either side of your head, smoothing your hair out of your face as he kissed it. He sat himself back on the bed, trying to avoid the wet patch on the sheets, pulling you to sit on top of him. He held you close as he pulled you back down onto his erection and you relaxed your head against his shoulder as he continued to smooth your hair. He began rocking you gently on top of him, letting you have a small break, both of you enjoying the moment of being close.

When you felt your strength coming back to you, you lifted your head from his shoulder, fixing your lips to his again. He lifted you in his arms, laying you back on the bed. He lifted your legs back, allowing him to push himself deeper inside you as his thrust began to pick up again.

You placed your hands either side of his head, forcing your eyes to focus on one another. “Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.” he said, his forehead pressing into yours. You're mouth hung open again, your breaths coming out fast inbetween his thrusts, your moans stuttering wordlessly from your lips. He could tell your eyes were starting to become unfocussed again as your next orgasm built inside you.

He placed his hands under your hips, lifting them slightly allowing his thrusts to reach deeper still. The feeling inside you was devastating and your hand reached to rub circles over your clit, encouraging your release to come even faster. Once again Frankie felt himself being forced out from inside you as you once again gushed all over him and the bed, only this time he had a much better view. He was getting so close to his own climax and this only spurred him on even more. He barely gave you a moment to recover before he was thrusting himself back deep inside you.

His thrust were rapid as he chased his own finish and your fingers clawed at his back as you tried to ground yourself. Frankie let out a deep growl as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. His thrusts became sporadic, stuttering as he lifted his head to capture your lips in his own as he finished inside you. He stilled inside you and you relaxed into his arms as you felt every pulse of his cock inside you. It was a feeling that made you feel proud.

You looked up into his eyes. They were ones of complete bliss and adoration. You wanted to tell him you loved him but the words caught in your mouth so you settled for kissing him once more. This time the kiss was tender and not just because you were both exhausted. It said everything you both didn't feel like you could say. A silent acknowledgment of love.

------------------

“Hey where are you going?” you asked him as he climbed from the bed an hour later and began pulling on his clothes.

“I gotta go.” he said as he shrugged on his t-shirt, unable to meet your eyes,

“Oh, okay.” you said, sitting up and curling your knees up to your chest. You watched him silently as your racing thoughts from the bar slowly started coming back to you. They were more prominent now in this post sex quiet. “Frankie.” your voice said tentatively. It was half broken as the reality of the situation set in and an ache began to form in your chest, along with a churning feeling in your stomach. He looked back at you, eyes sorrowful.

Frankie felt like he had just been punched in the gut. He could see the hurt behind your eyes and it killed him. He knew his love for you was so great and he hated that he was hurting you in this moment. He made his way across the room to you, his arms leaning on the bed either side of you as he leant down to kiss you. “I'm gonna make this right, I promise.” he said as you dipped your head away from him. He gave you a tender kiss on your fore head. “I'll text you in the morning.” he said before placing a hand under your chin, encouraging you to lift your head once more so he could give you a final kiss goodbye. You could only watch silently and helplessly from your bed as he turned and walked away. You practically flinched as you heard the front door close behind him, the sound echoing around your quiet apartment, the reality of your actions setting in. What the fuck had you done.

---------------------

True to his word, Frankie had indeed messaged you the following morning. There was no mention of Laura just an 'I really want to see you. Can I come over later.' You had of course said yes and you had both had a repeat of the night before, just this time with pizza and TV. You had wanted him to stay, but you also understood why he couldn't. He promised you he would soon though.

You had both carried on that way, the days turning into weeks. Wild nights turning into wild afternoons, always with the promise that at some point Frankie would break up with Laura and you would be together properly soon.

One week turned into two months and with every passing day your feelings for Frankie were growing stronger and stronger. You didn't care if he hadn't left Laura yet. You didn't care about the drugs, mostly because you could see he was using less and less when he was around you. You could see he was getting better. He was happier and shinier and you knew when he was ready he would end things with her and move in with you.

It was a Saturday evening when he turned up on your doorstep drunk and high and unable to get his key into the lock to let himself in. When you finally opened the door to him there were tears in his eyes. “Frankie?” his name fell from your lips as a question as he stumbled through the door. He made a beeline for your kitchen, searching the cupboards for more alcohol to drink.

You rushed over to him as you saw him pull a half full bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. He didn't even bother to get himself a glass, just started sipping it straight from the bottle. “Frankie, what the fuck is going on?” you asked as you snatched the bottle from his grasp.

“She's pregnant.” he choked out. Your face dropped, complete shock taking over.

“What?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Laura, she's pregnant.” he said again. His gaze wouldn't lift from a spot on the floor. There was silence between you as you both let the information settle in.

“What are you going to do?” you asked him tentatively.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you.” he said again, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

“No-”

“I don't want to be with her-”

“Frankie she's carrying your kid.”

“I don't want to be with her, I want to be with you.” he said again stepping towards you, his hands outstretched reaching for you. You remained frozen to the spot as his hands rested either side of your face. “I love you. I don't love her, I want to be with you.”

“How long have you know?” you asked him, your voice cold. He was silent. “How long have you known?” you asked him again, your voice rising, becoming desperate.

“About a week.” he finally admitted. You stepped backwards, away from his touch, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Please baby, please-” he began to beg, trying to step forward and close the distance between you again but you kept stepping away, shaking your head in disbelief. “Please, you make me better. I'm better when I'm with you.” You turned away from him, leaving the room in an attempt to get away, panic rising up inside you.

“I'll tell her everything, I'll get help, I promise just please-”

“FRANKIE STOP!” you shouted, rounding on him. He finally fell silent, allowing you a moment to breathe, to think. “I can't do this anymore.” your voice said broken. “If you really loved me, if you were actually going to leave her you would have done it weeks ago when you said you would. If you didn't want to be with her, why were you still sleeping with her, why did you get her pregnant-”

“I don't even remember it.” his voice came back broken and his knees gave way, his back leaning against the open kitchen door. He was sobbing now.

“Frankie, you need help.” you said to him tenderly as you made your way towards him. You sat on the floor beside him, your head leaning on his shoulder. His head slumped against yours in defeat.

“How did I fuck this up so bad?” he asked you. You didn't answer. You didn't need to. “I wish I had a time machine, like that car in that movie, back to the future,,, or that hot tub in that stupid movie Benny made me watch.” he started, his voice calming. “I wish I could go back to when I first met you and tell you how I felt about you. I wish I had told you I loved you the moment I saw you. I wish I'd never let Will or Santiago have the chance to fuck you before I did. Maybe then you would be the one carrying my child right now and not her.”

You let his words hang in the air. You wished more than anything that things could be different right now but they weren't. Frankie had a drug addiction. He had cheated on his girlfriend with you. He had promised you he would leave her but he didn't. Instead he had gotten her pregnant. You had been willing to over look so much for Frankie but for your own sake you couldn't do it anymore. There was a child involved now and there was no way you were gonna hang around and make this situation more difficult for everyone. “I'm gonna go to Italy.” you told him. He looked at you lost.

You had gotten the call that morning. You had been wondering all day whether or not you should take the job but now you saw it as the only option you had. You both needed space. Frankie needed to be there for Laura, for his kid and you couldn't be here as a temptation for him. “My supervisor called this morning about a job in Italy. I think I'm gonna go. I think we both just need some space away from each other to clear our heads.”

“How long?”

“I don't know. Could be a couple of months, could be longer.”

“I love you.” he said again after a moments silence, hoping it would change your mind, hoping it would make you stay.

“Promise me you'll get help Frankie.” was all you said. You were on the next flight to Italy the following morning.

                                    ------------------------------------------

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @peterhollandkait @a-bang-for-your-bucky @asta-lily @codenamewife @lazyunknownwerewolf @emmy626 @natura1phenomenon @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @fangirl-316 @thisisthewaytofiction @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @aficwhore @slayerx147 @alberta-sunrise @itspdameronthings @nano-pax @bunnypascal @niki-xie @eowynshairflip @mamacitapascal​ @dobbyjen​ @t3rradactyl

[racheloveyunho]

Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

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 5 years ago.

 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Needed You Pt.2

Word Count: 1,864

Characters: Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Derek Hale (brief), Reader

Pairings: Isaac Lahey x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight TW: mentions of abuse but nothing too graphic, small fluff

A/N: okay so like the ending was low-key rushed cuz i was losing inspo but would anyone care for a better part three?

Masterlist    Link to Part One

You sighed softly, resting your head against your locker as you winced slightly, feeling your ribs aching. The last time you talked to Isaac was nearly a month ago, and things hadn’t gotten any better for you. Your uncle’s problem only got worse, you didn't know what you should have expected. 

You were more than exhausted, you wanted to look for some way out, but couldn't. Everything became more and more difficult.

You sighed softly, closing your eyes before sniffling. You grabbed your books and closed the locker, backing away as you bumped into Isaac, jumping slightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately saw the red in his face as you clenched your jaw, noticing something was wrong. 

Even after all that time apart, you couldn't say that you didn't care about him, and couldn't read him. You could tell something was up.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said softly.

That was the first time you had spoken to him in a while, the first time he spoke to you.

You walked past him, holding your books to your chest. 

---

“I’m home,” you called once you entered the house, your eyes immediately watering from the stench of alcohol mixed with something you presumed to be drugs.

You ran your fingers through your hair, walking up to your room and shutting the door behind you. You didn't have much time to move in, most of your stuff was left at your old house, and the rest was still in boxes. You never fully unpacked.

You dropped your bag on the floor, picking up an old shoebox filled with pictures. You knew nothing in that box was going to be good for you, only causing you more and more pain than you were already in.

You looked through all the pictures, sitting on your bed as tears filled your eyes. Everything was so peaceful and happy for both of you then. Your mothers were still alive, you were still on talking terms. Every time he passed you in the hall, you could feel a part of you dying.

You looked through another box that you kept under your bed, labeled Isaac. It was a box of memories and materials the two of you shared. 

You noticed a small stuffed animal, you had a panda while he had a bear, with each other's initials carved into the feet. You looked at all the crappy artwork the two of you had done as kids while you let out a soft laugh, sniffling.

You stumbled past a small birthday present that you made for him earlier this year, but never had the chance to give it to him. It was a mini photo book, with pictures of the two of you. 

More and more tears welled up in your eyes as you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

You just wanted a break, you just wanted to go back.

You heard a loud noise as your heart jumped, opening your eyes as you stuffed everything in the box, throwing it back under the bed.

You could hear a few things dropping, meaning your uncle was awake. You dried your tears, quickly running out of your room and going to him.

---

“Scott, I have listened to everything you said and all I can feel is (Y/N) drifting further away from me!” Isaac groaned, leaning against the locker in the locker room.

“You're getting my advice mixed up with Stiles. I told you to just talk to her again, and apologize and be there for her,” Scott sighed.

“Every time I try to talk to her, she just gives me that look and next thing I know, I’m walking the other way,” Isaac explained.

“Well, then you need to push past those nerves and build up the strength to talk to her. Why don't you sit next to her during class or something?” Scott suggested.

Isaac sighed, before nodding.

“Fine. But if this doesn't work-”

“It will. Come on, the bell’s about to ring,” Scott put his lacrosse equipment into his locker before the two of them walked out of the room.

---

You sat in the car, looking at the bruises on your face as you clenched your jaw, letting out a soft breath. You just had to make it through the day, and then it was the weekend.

You grabbed your bag, exiting your car when you heard the bell ring, meaning you were late for class, but you didn't care at that point.

Meanwhile, Isaac sat at the table, looking around for you. Chemistry was one of your favorite subjects, he knew you would never be late on purpose. He could feel slight worry in his chest, as he heard the bell go off. A few seconds later, you walked through the door, while Isaac tensed up, immediately taking notice of your bruises and dimmed appearance.

You looked around the classroom, finding the only empty seat next to Isaac.

“C-Can I,” you started while he nodded his head.

You wrapped your arm around your stomach, closing your eyes tightly and taking a deep breath. Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You could feel Isaac's stares on you while you tried to keep your focus on the board in front of you. The tensions were definitely high.

You could hear a small grunt as you looked at Isaac, seeing him gripping on the table hard as you frowned.

He let go of the table, grabbing his bag before storming out, earning confusion from the rest of the class. You saw Scott quickly get up, running after him.

---

“Isaac, calm down!” Scott said he was pushing Isaac back, holding him against the showers.

“They have bruises! (Y/N) has bruises! Their uncle is hurting them!” he yelled. His eyes were glowing yellow, while Scott kept him under the water, trying to calm him down.

“I know, Isaac! But you have to keep it under control! I know there’s a full moon tonight but you need to keep yourself under control or else you’ll end up hurting (Y/N)!” Scott yelled.

“I’ve been hurting them! I was supposed to be there for them, and be their best friend! All I've done in the past months is hurt them! I just want (Y/N) to be safe, that's all I want,” Isaac’s eyes lost their yellow, while he slumped back, letting out a soft cry.

All the pain from losing his best friend, alone with seeing them suffer every day was hitting him hard, and all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and tell you that it would be okay like you did for him.

---

“(Y/N),” your head shot up immediately, trying to look for the source of the voice calling your name as you walked out of the library.

It was only 9, but you were too tired to deal with any creep or weirdo Beacon Hills had to offer.

You continued to walk, before a man walked in front of you, stopping you.

“You need to come with me,” he said.

You frowned, before crossing your eyes.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you scoffed.

“Just listen to me,” he replied.

“No. Who even are you?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I'm Derek Hale, I’m Isaac's legal guardian and friend, and all I can tell you is that we need your help with Isaac,” he replied.

You felt your bones shake, hearing Isaac’s name.

“Fine,” maybe it was wrong to trust the stranger who claimed he knew Isaac, but your worry overfilled you instead.

You followed him to his car, before the two of you drove off.

---

“Isaac!” Scott held Isaac down, trying to keep him still while he attempted to get the chains.

The hair had grown from Isaac’s face, his eyes glowing yellow, along with his claws visible.

You followed Derek into the abandoned train station, feeling an uneasy feeling in your heart as you heard slight yelling.

“Scott,” Derek said, putting you in front of him.

“(Y/N), hey!” Scott had a small smile on his face, while you looked confused.

You could hear someone yelling in pain, immediately recognizing Isaac’s voice as you felt your heart racing.

Isaac put his hands over his head, yelling out as he tried to block out all noises.

You saw the claws, along with his eye color as you took a deep breath. Something was wrong. You pushed aside everything, focusing on your friend that needed your help.

“I-Is that Isaac?” you asked softly, while Scott nodded his head.

He led you in front of him, while you heard Isaac whimpering. You looked up at Derek and Scott, before turning your attention back to Isaac.

“Isaac?” you said softly.

He opened his eyes, before moving back, away from you.

“Isaac, it’s me,” you said again.

You could feel the fear and panic in your chest, while you tried to remain calm. Derek explained the bare minimum of the situation, while you thought he was crazy.

“(Y/N),” he cried.

You scooted closer, while he backed away once again.

“Stay away from me! I-I don't want to hurt you again,” his cries made your chest ache while you went closer to him, stroking his cheek.

He was frozen for a second, before you saw his class retracting, the hair on his face vanishing, resembling your best friend in front of you, eyes bloodshot and broken.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, taking you by surprise as you sniffled, eyes watering before you hugged him back.

You missed him more than anything in the world.

---

“So, werewolves are real,” you shook your head, while the two of you stood outside the train station, in the company of each other.

“Yeah…(Y/N), I just have to say-”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

You both said at the same time, before Isaac shook his head.

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you, and that I wasn't there for you, and for acting like a dick, and just for everything,”  he said.

“No, Isaac, you didn't deserve what I said about you. I’m sorry, and I’ve just missed you, so, so much,” he gave you a soft smile before hugging you once again.

You felt a feeling of safeness and security as you buried your head on his chest.

“Can we please be best friends again,?” he asked softly.

“Yes, of course,” you let out a weak laugh, pulling away from Isaac as you wiped away your tears.

He put his hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheek softly.

“Did you uncle do that?” he asked softly.

You have him a sad smile before the word yes fell from your mouth softly.

You saw his face drop, while he shook his head.

“Let me help you. We can get you out of there, and-” 

“No, Isaac,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N)-” he started.

“I just need you to be there for me, okay?” the tears in your eyes reappeared as Isaac nodded softly.

“I love you, Lahey,” you buried your face in his arms again.

“I love you too, (Y/L/N).”

taglist:

@sonnydoesrandomshit​

@aprilfire18​

@confuscita​

@asheradamsbicep​

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life​

@eunoia-kth​

@jjjmaybank​

[cloud9in]

Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)

Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!

Word Count (2.8k)

Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.

 They did end up having that conversation after all.

 “…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“

 “If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”

 Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality. 

 The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.” 

 “I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.

 “Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

 They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”

 The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”

 He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.

 “Hey asshole!” 

 “That’s for talking too much.”

 Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”

 Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face. 

 She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible. 

 It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.  

 “Bea.”

 “Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”

 “Jackson.”

 Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.

 “You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.” 

 “I know.”

 Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface. 

 “I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”

 “Carter….”

 “One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”

 He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘 

 The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.

 I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me. 

 And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.

 Patience babe…tomorrow it is. 

 Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer. 

***

“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”

 Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.

 “That’s the point, princess.”

 Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend. 

 And it definitely felt good to call her that.

 “Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”

 Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”

 “Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.” 

 Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday. 

 But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private. 

 “Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”

 “Am I picking the place?”

 “…Yes.”

 “Then yes.”

 Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless. 

 “Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”

 “Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”

 Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”

 “I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.” 

 The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”

***

Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her. 

 C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.

Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?

Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day. 

Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though. 

 Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?

 Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear. 

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..

 You know I always do.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.

 Of course Pops.

 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.

 Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always. 

 Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.

 ***

“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”

 The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”

 “In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”

The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu. 

Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”

 The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”

***

“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”

 “It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”

 Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea. 

 Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.

 “Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”

 The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”

 “Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful. 

 “Alright lay off the poor sucker.” 

 Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?” 

 He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger. 

 “Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently. 

 “Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”

 Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”

 “No.”

 Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.

 “It’s a setup Bea, duck!”

 She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete. 

 “Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”

 A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels. 

 Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming. 

 Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.

 And why were they kept alive?

***

“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”

 “Oh not the middle name…”

 Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face. 

 The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl. 

 Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”

 “What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.

 “No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“

 “We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”

 The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life. 

 She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop. 

 “I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“ 

 Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?” 

 Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case. 

 “Bea, answer me”

 “It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”

 “And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves. 

 Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything. 

 “Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words. 

 “Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.” 

 Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel. 

 “Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”

 The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth. 

 “No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”

 For now.

 “I will be okay.”

 I hope.

 “Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”

 “I know Poppy…I-“

 “You promised.”

 “And I’m going to keep that promise-“

 “Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”

 Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”

 “I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“

 “I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”

 Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug. 

 She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.

 “Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.” 

 “I promise.”

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme  @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog

[nygmobblepot-trash]

It was odd for Riddler to get visitors. He wasn't exactly popular with anyone. Oswald would show up when he wanted something and was desperate which was more often than you would hope for from Gotham's mayor/king/whatever he was calling himself these days. Gordon would show up with arrest warrants. The last group would be considered random. They would show up when Riddler got bored and let someone else take over so he could save the puzzle later on.

Riddler hadn't lost control recently... at least he thought he hadn't. He hadn't done anything since being released and Oswald doesn't believe in having to knock. So why at 10:46 pm was someone knocking at his door?

Instead of playing the guessing game, Riddler decided to throw the door open and deal with whatever or whomever was making all that noise behind it. Except when it swung open he saw no one.

That's odd.

Another mental break down perhaps?

Whatever.

He'd deal with it later and shut the door. He didn't get very far till he heard the knocking again.

Ignore it. It will stop eventually. Just distract yourself.

He looked around the room to find something fitting for the task. Which was a old torn up book hidden under the couch. He brushed off the cobwebs and collapsed on the couch.

The knocking persisted.

Riddler tried to focus on the words with all his heart but the pounding wouldn't stop.

He had enough. Please don't be Ghost Oswald, he thought as he threw open the door for a second time.

Still nothing.

He went to close the door for the second time when he felt something grab onto his arm in order to prevent the action.

Riddler quickly looked down and everything clicked into place.

He wasn't expecting a child. "Oh it's just you, Martin." He sighed happy he didn't accidentally drug himself. The calm quickly disappeared when he repeatedly his words, "Oh it's you! What are you doing here?"

Martin must have already assumed that question was going to be asked because he only had to flip to a page in his notebook and show it to the annoyed Riddler.

"Oswald dropped me off." Ed read aloud with a frown. "I doubt it. He would never leave you in my care without an hour lecture. As if I need a lecture on how to keep a child alive."

Martin gave Riddler an, 'Are you sure about that?' look.

"I forgot to feed you one time! I've gone days without eating and no one throws a fit. You go without dinner one time and I never hear the end of it!" Riddler yells as he retreats back into Ed's apartment.

Martin follows and closes the door behind him.

Riddler quickly turned around. "Oh no you don't. Go back to Oswald. I know you're lying about him driving you here."

Martin shakes his head no.

Riddler aggressively digs into his pockets to look for his phone but finds nothing. "That's odd... I had it in here an hour ago." Riddler scans the room and sighs when he immediately doesn't find it. "Once I find my phone you're gone, Buddy."

Martin shrugged and made his way into the kitchen as he was hungry. PB&J sounded real good. He had managed to find all the supplies while Riddler threw stuff around the apartment. The more the man looked the angrier he got. Now all the boy needed was a knife to put the jelly and peanut butter on his bread. He found one fairly quickly. What was even quicker was Riddler grabbing the knife away from him. He was paying attention?

"You cut yourself and i'll get blamed." The green man announced.

Martin expected to hear the knife go back into the drawer, but it didn't. Instead Riddler with a roll of his eyes quickly smeared the toppings onto the bread. When he was done he tossed the knife into the sink with a loud clank and went back to look for his phone without another word.

Martin quietly ate his sandwhich and when he was done put the dirty dish into the sink after washing it off. Like Oswald said, 'no one likes a pig.'

The boy took this opportunity to clear out any unusable pages from his notebook. He didn't see certain responses being used soon, if ever again.

"I haven't left all day. It should be here." Riddler mumbled from under the couch he retrieved the book from. After throughly checking the couch Riddler turned to the boy. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know... in bed?"

Martin shrugged knowing damn well the answer.

"Bed." Riddler commanded.

So the boy did as told... well almost. The man yelled, "not my bed," as the child climbed into his bed ignoring him.

"I'm going to kill Oswald." Riddler promised under his breath.

The boy quickly wrote in his note book and turned it to the man when he was finished.

"I don't care if Oswald reads to you. I'm not Oswald." Riddler answered coldly.

The boy scribbled down more.

"I do have great stories! Way better than any of Oswald's." Riddler hissed.

So Riddler lost again and told the boy a story. But he boy refused to shut his annoying little eyes. So he said another one, which turned into another one. Riddler wouldn't admit that the stories were infact true and about himself and Oswald.

After the 3rd story Riddler stood up. "You said he reads you one story and I have given you three. It isn't my fault you're still up, so go to sleep."

Martin quickly wrote in his notebook and threw it at the Riddler as he was leaving.

Riddler quickly bit his lip to avoid yelling at the boy and picked up to see what the runt wanted now. "...you want to know what my parents are like?" Riddler was about to tell him no when he read the next sentence, "I'll go to bed and never bother you again, I promise." He ripped the note out of the note book and placed it his pocket. "This is legal now." He sighed and sat back down.

Riddler opened his mouth to answer the boy's request but the words seemed to leave his lips.

You technically don't have parents. A voice not belonging the Riddler echoed in his head.

"Shut up." Riddler hissed through clenched teeth.

For someone who thinks he's the best of me is terrible at taking care of kids. This one doesn't even speak and you're losing it.

A pain started pulsing behind his eyes.

As Riddler grimaced in pain the boy stuck another note in front of his eyes. It read, "Is it Ed?"

Hey kid.

"Please be quiet." Riddler whisper as he put his head into his hands.

Martin upset at what he seemed to cause quickly ran out of the room. Riddler don't notice this at all. He hadn't known how much time had passed even he managed to look farther up the bed where Martin was last seen. The issue was the boy wasn't there anymore. In his place were a couple of pills and a note, "I'm sorry I bothered you, Mr. Riddler. My dad seemed more happy when you're around. I came here to figure out why Oswald and you don't get along. I even left a note for Oswald hinting you took me. I wanted him to show up and see that you do take good care of me. It's my fault that you don't see each other anymore. I refused to eat that day and you still took the blame. I'm going back to Oswald's to explain what I did. As an apology I'll give you a riddle, 'I can be a salty treat for some, and a breath stealer for others. What am I?' -Love Martin."

Riddler quickly looked at the time on his watch, it read, 1:07 am. "Oh dear." Riddler and Ed said in a worried tone.

Riddler wasted no time finding the peanut butter in a cabinet. Please don't be ruined and please be what I hope you are, he though.

Ed on the other hand was trying to calculate all the possible routes the boy could be taking.

Riddler spun the lid off and shouted, "Yes!" as he quickly unwrapped the napkin that was in the jar. It was his phone which he may need later. It was the nuclear option.

Then suddenly the front door swung open and crashed into the wall harder than it ever had.

Shit. Riddler though as he hit the floor to avoid being seen.

"EDWARD DUMBASS NYGMA." An angry mother penguin shouted louder than should be possible.

'What did I do?!' Riddler heard Ed scream in terror.

'We have to avoid him at all costs, when he's like this he won't listen to a word we say.' Riddler told Ed.

The pair listened as Oswald stomped around the apartment. Once they could hear him in the guest bedroom he bolted to Ed's room. Going out the front door would get them spotted immediately.

Riddler could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He has never moved this fast and quietly in his life, including all the other personalities. He threw open the window and leaped out of it. He fell about 6 feet before he was able to stop his fall by grabbing onto the fire escape ladder. The force made the ladder extend closer to the ground. Once it stopped a few feet above the ground Riddler let go and landed in the snow.

He didn't feel the coldness nor acknowledged it was even winter in Gotham as a voice from above him dripping with hate, "YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME."

'There's no way he'll come down this way. Just go.' Ed commanded.

So Riddler did what Ed said for the first time in his existence. His mind was a blur, but that was okay because Ed was giving him directions. It wasn't long until he spotted the boy walking under the street lights on a particularly dangerous street.

"Hey! Kid wait!" Riddler yelled very out of breath. When the boy stopped and turned Riddler finally noticed how tired he was.

He was about to collapse when adrenaline shot back up his body.

"I TOLD YOU."

Riddler's eyes widden as he turned to see Oswald quite a bit off into the distance hobbling towards them. "...how?" The three questioned together.

He was running out of time so Riddler whipped back to the boy to say what he wanted to say. Unfortunately Oswald was faster and had a gun pointed directly at him.

'And you're the bad parent?" Ed questioned.

Martin quickly stood in front of Riddler to his surprise. He frantically waved his arms around and shook his head. All three men noticed the tears in his eyes.

"Martin I want you to step to the side, put your hands over your ears, and face away with your eyes closed. Do. Not. Make. Me. Ask. Again." Oswald said with a reassuring yet offsetting tone.

Martin stood his ground.

"Oswald I need to show you something, you're only making the situation worse." Riddler pleaded.

"You won't ever stop crossing the line will you? Every single time I let you live you make sure I regret it. Well not this time, old friend."

'Well we're dead.' Ed sighed.

Martin dropped to his knees with his hands together, no doubt pleading for Riddler's life.

Oswald's moved his finger to the trigger. Since he was aiming for Nygma's head, Martin wouldn't get hit. "Haven't I taught you anything? Don't be like me. Don't let anyone stab you in the back ever. I wouldn't be doing what I preach if I don't do this."

Riddler slowly moved his hand to his pocket.

'Stop you idiot' Ed screeched.

Riddler grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket and held it above his head. "He thinks we aren't..." Riddler didn't know the right words, many of them made his stomach flip. "you know... a team anymore, because of him. He blames himself, Os."

"But it isn't his fault." Oswald's finger slowly backed off from the trigger. "Let me see. I doubt this will save you."

Riddler nodded and handed the note back to Martin. The boy whiped away some tears before running to Oswald.

Oswald held the note in the air under the street lamp to read the pencil words.

Ed, Riddler, and Martin watched with baited breath to see how Oswald would react.

Paying attention to microfacial expressions wasn't Ed or even Riddler's strong suit, but this time they caught everything. How Oswald bit him bottom lip as tears brimmed in his eyes. How he quickly turned his head away and blinked those tears away to avoid Martin seeing them. Ed and Riddler watched as he shook silently. Then he took a sharp breath and blew it out. "It was never your fault and it never will be. Edward is an idiot-. No we are, grown ups are. I'm sorry you had to see us flight. I promise to be better and I think me and him going our separate ways will ensure that."

Martin shook his head.

'Wow look at Oswald Cobblepot being the adult. I guess you got what you wanted.' Ed's voice still echoed in Riddler's head, thankfully without the migrain.

"You're wrong, that's not what I want." Riddler said out loud to his and Ed's surprise.

"What the hell-" Oswald started to yell again but Riddler cut him off.

"I don't think we should go out separate ways. It would be a shame if Gotham's best duo faded into nothingness. There is still greatness for us. Our story isn't done yet, Ozzie." Riddler closed the gap inbetween him and Oswald. "I'm sorry... for some of the things I did. Sometimes you deserved it though."

'Please shut up.' Ed begged.

It was Riddler's turn to bite his lip. He then took and deep breath and through clenched teeth spoke, "The truth is..." Riddler felt his face go warm and suddenly realized how terribly cold it was. "I'm happier when... you're...around...too."

Oswald covered his laugh with a cough. Ed did not follow that courtesy. 'I knew it!'

"Oh God damn it." Oswald sighed. "You're going to make me regret this, aren't you?"

"You know me so well." Riddler answered with a coy smile.

"Holy shit it is fucking cold. Can we go inside now before I actually turn into a penguin? And you..." Oswald pointed at Riddler with a smirk. "Shouldn't you hate the cold."

"Nope." Riddler shrugged as he tossed his suit jacket onto a shivering Martin. "It reminds me how I saved your sorry ass."

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

[thesmokingguns]

Phone Tag

Word count: 3512

Requested: “My idea was that the reader thought Kelly was cheating on her on tour, and when he comes home, he finds her really upset and comforts her and assures her that he only loves her”

Requested by @littlemisscare-all

A/N: I just want to thank @littlemisscare-all for the request and letting me message her about questions I had. Kelly Nickels is a new character I’m writing and she was patient with my questions and so helpful. This is a little longer than my usual one shots so I hope you like it. I have three requests I need to write on top of my regular stuff I want to put out so feel free to make a request but I’m going to say the time might be up to a week now. I also have a tag list you can be added to by just messaging me or filling out the form. Please let me know what you think ❤️

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore, @ayablackwood

Ring, Ring, Ring

The constant sound of the phone trying to connect with room 828 was filling my head. The high pitched sound bouncing around your mind as you wished he’d  pick up. After another minute of the phone going unanswered you hung up, wiping my sweat filled palms on the denim dress hastily.

You could see your fingers trembling, the anxiety of the situation coming out in physical ailment as your trembling hands started to get numb. You shook out your hands, flexing them, cracking them, pushing them together, anything to just calm yourself down enough to feel them again. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it had turned on its engine and got lodged in your throat when it pressed the gas. You couldn’t swallow down the pounding so you tried instead to take a gulp of air. Breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Even though you felt like you were not getting enough air when you breathed through your nose you continued anyway trying to calm your body that seemed to be fighting you.  You were trying anything to try and stop the full fledged anxiety attack from coming on.

You stepped back into the store, trying not to make eye contact with your friend and coworker as you started to fold the sweaters  on the front side table. Your hands needed to stay busy as you tried to avert your eyes from anyone, tears pooling in them. You couldn’t think about the situation or you’d start crying. But fuck, it had been almost a week since You had heard from your boyfriend. Your hand went to my pocket, pulling out the ripped out notebook paper Kelly had given you with the name, date, room number and phone number for each hotel. He was supposed to be in Phoenix in room 828 at the Hilton Hotel. Which you had already called seven times throughout the day without any response.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your coworker touched your shoulder and you let out a sob, hands flying to your face. The feeling of someone touching you after the last month of being alone was too much. You broke feeling the loneliness blanketing over you, covering you. Your coworker was leading you to the breakroom, thankful no one was in the shop to see you have a complete mental breakdown.

He had promised you that you would talk every day; he had seen the nervous look in your eyes when the guys talked about the tour. All the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band. They were all about the three fundamentals: sex, drugs and rock n roll. How were you going to compete with something you weren't there to see?

“Jesus Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that paper?” Kelly was tearing apart the tour bus looking for a yellow piece of legal paper that you had written down all the numbers to call you on. He had lost it a week ago after he had drunkenly started a shot game with Phil that night and that had proved to be a horrible mistake.

When he had woken up, on the kitchen floor of the tour bus, a hangover so bad he wanted to fling himself into the highway all he could think about was calling the person that he loved and telling her about his night. The sound of her voice coaxing the hangover out of him and filling him up with the love she had for him. He had pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his cigarettes from his jacket and digging in the inside pocket for the list of numbers, but the paper was gone.

It had been six days since he had lost the numbers and as much as he tried to remember a phone number he couldn’t even think of one. He had expected a phone call to explain everything but the problem was that phone call had never come. This was just another layer of frustration that Kelly couldn't figure out. For the first few weeks of the tour he had gotten the calls at the hotel but a night before he lost the number the call hadn’t come in.

So now, being the very logical, even headed, and not complete maniac that he was, Kelly was tearing apart every single part of the tour bus. Ripping open trash bags, pulling apart beds, and crawling under the table that had a weird sticky substance underneath. As he pushed half drank beer cans aside he saw the flap of yellow sticking out. His heart leapt to his throat as he snatched up the paper, flipping it over and groaning audibly. The paper had gotten saturated. One number was partially visible with only a couple numbers melting together.

Walking off the tour bus he headed over to the payphone, setting a handful of change on the metal bottom as he started to dial different combinations of the number hoping that he could finally reach his girlfriend. Hoping that her lack of calls to him didn’t mean they had broken up or what if she had met someone else? She did have that fucking girlfriend who didn’t like him. What if she had gone out to The Roxy and met someone else?

He gripped the paper so hard in his hand as the phone rang and he thought of you with someone else. He needed to talk to you,

You were walking home, unable to work as your mind went a million miles a minute. Your heart thumping so loudly that your own thoughts were muted and just scenarios were popping in your head. Images of Kelly with his arm around another girl, disheveled hotel rooms with discarded clothes, his lips worshiping someone else's body. You stopped on the sidewalk closing your eyes, fists tightening as you told yourself not to scratch your arms. It was all in your head. This was all in your head and not real.

Another shaky step towards your apartment. Your eyes were on the payphone at the end of the block and you figured you could try one more time to call the hotel. Maybe when you heard his voice it would put out the fire of your mind. He could calm your anxiety, easing you from the panic attacks it caused and draw you in with the safety of his voice. He must have known how crazy you were going and when he finally talked to you he would have a logical explanation for why he had disappeared.

As you convinced yourself that he was going to answer this time, you could feel the burning bile in your gut start to be put out as the rational part of your mind tried to make a little room for you to have hope. The way your hands trembled as you took out a dime, sliding it into the slot and dialing the number, let you know that the temporary band aid your rational side had put on your anxiety wasn’t going to stick for very long. If Kelly didn’t answer it was going to be ripped off and you’d be left with the exposed wound that you would need to deal with..

Ring...Ring...Ri-

“Hello?” your heart caught in your throat, and you could feel your eyes widening as you heard a voice answer the phone on the other end, “Hello, is anyone there?” The very female voice that was answering the phone was not your boyfriend.

“Kelly?” his name left your lips, almost a whimper. All of the worst situations that you imagined could be happening in your head seemed to come to life now. It wasn’t just in your head, a woman was answering his hotel phone.

“Ohhhh, they’re in the shower. If you call back in an hour-” you hung up the phone. It took you four tries before you could get the receiver on the cradle because the shaking in your hand was running through your entire body now. You tried to crack your fingers, a weak attempt to get some control of the motions of your body.

In the shower. If he was taking a shower at 4pm what was he washing off of himself? Who was the girl who had answered the phone? Had he not answered because he had been so busy with her all day? You dry heaved in front of the payphone, sucking in air when nothing came out. You wanted to go home and hide, burying yourself under blankets until the weight of the sadness lifted. Not that you were sure it was ever going to lift because you had just caught him cheating on you.

It was a miracle that you made it to the apartment. You dropped your keys twice, your hands not working how they were supposed to. Your grip on them slipping and letting them fall through your fingers. Had you let Kelly fall through your fingers?

You hissed out a curse, shouldering into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You were off of work tomorrow so you could stay holed up inside the apartment for at least twenty four hours before anyone would think to call. That gave you time to wallow in your emotions and feel everything you needed to feel.

Looking around at the space it dawned on you that you would need to leave. Separate your things and get out of the city before he comes back to it. Which didn’t give you enough time at all because he would be back in two days for the LA show at the Whisky a Go Go, Where were you going to live? Maybe you could find a roommate or you could always stay with your best friend. She would let you in. There was so much to do and so much to figure out but you needed to lay down and figure it out from the comfort of the bed.

On the way to the bed you tripped over the phone you had kept beside it for the past few days hoping for Kelly to finally call you. You looked at the phone hanging off the hook, knowing if anyone called you they would just get the busy signal but you didn’t hang it back up. Kelly was too busy in some hotel room with a strange girl and he hadn’t bothered to call you in a week anyway. You needed to just get in bed and mourn your relationship. You’d move out tomorrow and start a new life without him.

Kelly hung up the phone, looking at his apartment phone number that the girl at the shop had just given to him. He had missed you by twenty minutes and from what he had just heard you were in bad shape.He sucked in his bottom lip as he dialed the home number. He would explain everything to you as soon as he had you on the phone. He could already picture you asking him if he had at least won the drinking game.

“What the fuck?” He looked at the phone when he got the busy signal. It had to be the right number. He had repeated the number twice to make sure that he got the correct number and now he was getting a busy signal. He dialed again, getting the same alert sound. Then again. And again. He stopped after constantly calling for ten minutes to take a breath. He was going to need to have a beer and try again.

He tried calling twenty minutes later, an hour, three hours, and before he went on stage for the show. His mind was thinking of how you could be on the phone for that long. He frowned as he grabbed his bass going over to the band's manager. He needed to get home sooner than the tour bus would take him.

You got out of the shower, wrapping your sweater around you over your nightgown. Your eyes skimmed the apartment where you had spent the last four hours cleaning like a maniac and separating everything. Your records were in a milkcrate by the door, along with a trash bag of all your clothes. Things like pots and pans didn’t seem worth fighting over. You would leave those for him. Even though you weren’t even sure if Kelly knew how to fry an egg.

Twirling a piece of hair around your finger you tried to calm the uneasy feeling filling you. He had been the one who hadn't answered your calls or called you. He was the one who had a girl answer the phone in his room. He wanted you to leave but he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused by telling you it was over. Your friends had all warned you about dating a rockstar so it wasn’t like you could expect much sympathy from them. But you had been with Kelly for over a year and hadn’t seen it coming. It felt like you were blindsided. To love someone so much had really just opened you up to the pain you were feeling now.

Moving to the bedroom you looked around the room, the pit of your stomach turning in sadness as you thought about this being the final time you sleep in this bed. The tears boiling up and tumbling down your face as you sat on his side, touching the pillow that he slept on. You could smell his aftershave and scent on his pillow just making you cry even harder. The feeling in the pit of your stomach growing as you missed someone who was gone.

Over your tears you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. You were wrapped around a pillow mind racing in a thick fog of all the reasons you weren’t good enough. Why couldn't he love you? Could anyone love you?

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Arms were wrapped around you. You were being pulled onto a lap, hair pushed away from your tear stained face.

“K-Kelly?” It comes out weekly, almost afraid you’re hallucinating arms wrapped around you, fingers touching your tears, pushing the puddles that gathered on your skin with an expert flick of a thumb.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. What happened? Why are you so upset? Who do I need to fight?” He was trying to defuse the situation with humor to drag you out of your hysterics. But he was the one that had gotten you to this place.

Sitting up you pushed yourself off his lap, a frown forming on his face from this action. You could feel the way your hands were starting to go numb as you wiped your tears, knowing there was going to be a confrontation with him.

“I called you for a week, Kelly. I called all the numbers multiple times a day and you didn’t answer. You didn’t call me back.” The way he frowned at this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took it as a sign of his guilt. He had been ignoring you on purpose. “And I called this afternoon and a girl answered from your hotel room.” He stood up suddenly shaking his head.

“No, no, no.” You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt to lie about the fact you had spoken to a girl that was in his room, “Oh fuck, we didn’t even check into the hotel today. I was on the tour bus looking for the list of numbers you had written down for me.” He was digging into his leather jacket pocket looking for the yellow paper. You were trying to process what he was saying.

“But they said you were in the shower when I asked for you.” You said with a frown, trying to process what he was saying. It would be easy to believe him, tryst him blindly and forget all the drama but there were so many things that just weren’t adding up. He produced the yellow list holding it up with the missing pieces and wet pen running into a blurred mix of ink.

“Call the hotel now. I’m obviously here with you. Maybe they heard you wrong?” He knew you needed real proof. He looked at the phone on the floor that was off the receiver, “I tried to call you today. I guess this explains the busy signal.” He moved to hang it back up.

“I called you and you didn’t answer all week and you didn’t even call me once.” You pointed out. “You’re on tour with all your horny band members and I’ve been out with you all before.” You didn’t want to ask him because you knew that he would answer you honestly. He couldn’t lie to you, even on little things he was always 100% honest. Which you had found out one night when you tried on a new dress and asked how you looked and he had told you the dress looked like a rejected extra from a Cyndi Lauper music video.

“I lost the phone numbers when I was drinking with Phil one night. It took me a week to find them on the bus.” He confessed. That story seemed pretty on par for who they were, “And are you asking if I was stupid enough to cheat on you?” At the words you went white, gripping the sheets. Kelly took in your reaction and knew that’s exactly what you were thinking had happened. “Listen, Y/N.” He moved over to the bed gripping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and giving him a soft smile, “I love you. Just you. And I wouldn’t do anything to ever lose your love. I spent a week trying to find a paper just so I could hear your voice. I was waiting for you to call all week, baby. Why didn’t you call me?” The soft way he spoke was melting the ice in your veins, calming you with the right touches and bringing you to the current situation happening in real life and not just in your head.

“I called you so much. I called all the hotels that you told me to call. But you never answered me.” You pointed to a crumpled up ball on the nightstand. Watching him grab it and smooth out the page of numbers.

“Oh shit.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at you with an almost embarrassed look. You knew exactly what that look was. He had made a mistake, “So, um, these hotels are out of order. I must have copied them backwards because this one.” He pointed at the last hotel you had called today. “Should have been here.” He pointed a few up and you sighed in relief. The tears still came flowing out but this time in relief, “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, baby.” He reached out, folding you to him. Your body was relaxed, allowing him to calm you with his back rubs and head kisses. Comforting you by holding you in his arms and reminding you that he loved you with his touch.

“I’m sewing my name and our telephone number into all your clothes tomorrow.” You muttered after a little while. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“Next time, just come on tour with us. That way we never have to worry about playing phone tag.” You nodded your head listening to his heart beat. “We’re going to have to spend tomorrow morning unpacking your stuff. But I do respect your commitment to cut ties so thoroughly that you organized the records.” He got the laugh out of you that he was looking for. You sat up, shrugging your shoulders.

“I was just looking for an excuse to steal your Bowie records.” You teased him. He scoffed, pulling you to lay down beside him.

“I flew back here to be with you, Y/N. The least you could do is not threaten to steal my records.” Kelly pulled you close to him. “Do you feel better now that I’m back?” The concern in his voice warmed you to the core. You nodded your head at him. “Now you know you’re stuck with me and how wrapped around your finger I am.” You sighed out softly, eyes heavy as you felt like you could finally get some sleep after having a week of anxiety dreams and panic attacks preventing you from getting more than a tossing turning sleep for the week.

“Maybe next time send me a postcard to let me know you love me.” You said through a sleepy haze.

“Maybe I’ll train carrier ducks to send messages. Or learn how to do smoke signals.” A smile slipped out as you cuddled closer letting him lull you to sleep with his soft touches and soft mutters. He loved you, you could feel it. And that was all you needed

[actlikeyoudidntdoit]

ASSASSIN’S MODERN DAY PROFESSIONS

—————————————————

ALTAÏR

College Professor

-We all know that Altaïr has spent most of his life teaching, so what better job does he have than a college professor?

-He knows what he’s talking about, that much is certain, but sometimes he gets a little too lost in his lesson to realize that his students are scratching their heads. So it’s normal to have students staying after class, but they leave understanding every word of what he said.

-He’s not the fun teacher, but he’ll be able to teach you what you need and still remember it at the end of the day.

-He’s pretty lenient, and even with the obnoxious students who cause a scene, he calmly gets them to at least do their work.

-Other teachers always use him as a reference when it comes to the perfect teacher.

EZIO AUDITORE

-I can see Ezio being a public speaker since he’s not all that scared of crowds and spends a lot of time giving advice, so I think he’d really enjoy being able to help a crowd of people whose lives are falling apart

-Ezio would be the single anchor in a sea of storms because he always seems to have an answer for everything. He’s a man whose words are turned into inspirational quotes that people hang on their walls.

-When he says that things will be okay, no one doubts him since they know that he lost his father and his brothers very early on and that it took years for Ezio to accept the loss the way he had. If he could soldier through it, why couldn’t they?

-He doesn’t involve himself in politics, finding them to be a waste of time and breath despite how many people ask for his input on the political status of the country he’s staying in.

-He speaks to a lot of people in private, letting them speak their minds and giving his advice if they want it. He’s a therapist without a license, and you always feel hopeful about life leaving his office.

Connor

Construction or Sports

-This boy was designed for heavy work, and I’ve heard some good points in saying that not only would he be amazing at sports, but he’d also really enjoy it too.

-In my personal headcanon, I think he’d be a good construction worker as well. Not the high end kind that build skyscrapers or anything, but I can see him building simple houses for small communities, taking the lower jobs that can’t afford much help like the sweetheart he is. He definitely volunteers to make houses for the homeless.

-Since most of the homeless he helps don’t have much money, he makes sure to offer them baked goods because he’s definitely a baker.

Edward Kenway

-As a young man, he joins the navy

-Once he’s on his own, he buys his own boat and treats it like royalty.

-He’s not a pirate himself, but he does let less legal people on board for a price. At the time, it was just an easy cash pay since people paid good money when they were desperate.

-When he’s older and gets a grip on some of the people he’s helping (like the REALLY bad criminals) he quickly lets it go.

-Yet after seeing some of the more decent people and the places they were running from, I can see him being a sort of smuggler, but instead of smuggling drugs or weapons, he sells medicines, canned foods, and clothes to the regions where they’re scarce or hard to pay for.

-When he’s older and found a fortune over time, he starts up his own official charity, hiring various sailers to sail supplies to more places than he himself could alone.

SHAY CORMAC

-Okay, I have to say it. Shay would DEFINITELY be an FBI spy. Maybe I haven’t thought of it as heavily as I could, but he just strikes me as a man who could kill someone in plain sight and still not be seen.

-He already knows everything he can about infiltrating and getting vital information

-He knows exactly how to manipulate people to get what he wants.

-He’s like Macgyver but as an agent.

-He does things that make sleeping at night impossible, but he tells himself that every long night for him is another person somewhere else having a peaceful night, and peaceful nights means he’s doing his job. Right?

-Constantly questions his morals, but he can’t bring himself to stop, not knowing that he’d do if he stopped, because at least here he’s doing something. He’s contributing.

-That and maybe I might or might not want to see Shay in a suit 🤷‍♀️

AVELINE

-Actress. And a damn good one. She’s one of the kind of people who get paid millions each job and gives most of her cash on people who really need it. Not only that, she’s a fan favorite everywhere.

-She takes extra jobs in smaller businesses barely staying afloat, and public morality boosts has nothing to do with it. In fact, she keeps her fame life out of everything, choosing to see it just as another job.

-I can see her sharing similarities of Zendaya or Zoe Zaldana

ARNO DORIAN

-High school teacher or actor, I can’t decide.

-Because let’s be honest, this guys brain is more wrinkled than a raisin. He knows his stuff.

-He’s good at simplifying what he’s saying, and that happens to be a very useful trait when it comes to teaching.

-If he was a teacher, he’d be a damn good one, that’s for sure. No one will fail his class because he’s so good at explaining things, and he’d be the one who actually cares for his students.

-When it comes to acting... just admit that Arno’s a theater boy through and through. If you need proof, he’s the only one with a crazy amount of fancy robes and colors. FOR GODS SAKE HE OWNS A THEATER! So on modern day, I could totally see him as an actor as well.

-He’d be the Ewan Mcgregor of the modern day, because everyone recognizes him from SOMEWHERE because he’s really tested his acting ability on multiple various roles. Well read, charming, and level headed, he’d totally rock being an actor. He’s good friends with Aveline, and when they both have time in their busy schedules, they stop by for coffee and fill each other in on their life.

JACOB

-Boxing

-I saw the photoshops of Jacob in boxer life, and I have not been the same because oh my god that is amazing.

-but absolutely he’d be a boxer. He’s the shortest guy in the entire match, but he doesn’t need a stool to knock you on your ass before you can laugh about it.

-His opponents are lucky shattering bones is against the rules because he knows how to make someone wish their dad wore a condom.

-A lot of people think that his rounds must be rigged, and his sister had to physically hold him back every time Jacob threatened to give him a close up of how ‘rigged’ his fights were.

-Jacobs a powder keg, so it doesn’t take much to make him explode, and a lot of the less respectful people he has to fight picks particularly sore spots to do just that.

-He might be pissed, but his punch isn’t the only thing that stings. He knows exactly what words to use, and when they’ve gone too far, he doesn’t hold back.

-Might have a temper, but he has a good heart despite it all. He visits schools and completely turns his personality around with kids. He signs autographs, takes pictures, and makes sure that every one of them have a fun day because he knows that there’s some kids in this school that don’t have those kinds of days. He pays the school for field days each time, making sure they all get out. They bring out the scooters, parachutes, capture the flag, and ‘wrestling’ matches for the kids who want to face him. He loses every time. He never has a bigger smile on his face than when he has children fans walk up to him.

EVIE

-She is totally a lawyer and you can’t change my mind.

-Logic and Facts are her strongest weapons, and so far she has yet to lose a debate.

-Every other lawyer knows that seeing Evie walk into court is an instant death sentence, because like her brother, her words are sharp as a knife and her mind is even sharper.

-If they didn’t look identical, no one would believe that she would be related with Jacob the hot headed boxer, because she was level as water and was near impossible to make angry, but god help the poor sod that presses her.

-Her clients almost always get the best case scenario with Evie by their side by how good she is.

-Also like her brother, children are her weak spot, and her hard composure melts whenever she needs to speak to a child in the witness post, making sure that the child feel comfortable unlike the others that drill the kid with questions when they’re too skittish to answer. She takes her time and gets the kid feeling safe, and gently asks their side.

-Evie might not do it as a profession, but Evie has beaten Jacob in the boxing ring in the gym. She knows damn well how to handle herself, knowing she’d need it since she’d be fighting corrupt politicians or gang members who have too often tried attempts at her life. Every time she emerged unscathed, using the attempt at even more evidence against them and insuring a spot in jail. No one dared try attacking her again after that.

BAYEK

-I’m thinking police officer or motivational speaker for trauma.

-Either way, he’s a guardian who takes care of the people he’s in charge of. He knows words well, and having been down the dark path himself, he knows exactly what people experience and what they want to hear.

-Be the change you want to see in the world, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

-He’d be a well respected officer, and he’s not afraid of telling off a comrade if someone is wrongfully accused. He’s not very popular in the police station, but as long as he’s doing his job, he’s satisfied.

-He’s saved several people over the course in his life, and his word is well honored since he’s on no ones side. He sees things as what they are and doesn’t twist events he disagreed with to his point of view. Even if it hurts him personally, he doesn’t lie.

-He’s divorced, but they’re still best friends with each other and visit when they can.

AYA (ran out of gifs. Sorry)

-She is hands down a self defense teacher for women

-She sells hidden self defense tools for less than ten dollars, always sure to keep constantly supply of them since many have confessed that they’ve saved them from dangerous situations.

-Like her former husband, she’s a protector and makes sure she provides her students with the best.

-She teaches children what to do if they ever get grabbed, and she’s had many parents in years thanking her when that information ended up saving their child’s life.

ALEXIOS

-Hands down he is a stunt double

- Preferably Arno’s since he relies more on flexibility than brute strength. Then there’s the fact that they look similar enough in features

-He does the moves that would probably be safer if they were just CGI, but he hates those computers with a passion, preferring to do the real thing instead of giving out something fake. He’s broken more bones than he can count, and the companies he works with always have a medic on standby when something goes wrong.

-They tried convincing him that they only needed him for a few spots, but after realizing that he wanted this (and him assuring them that he doesn’t bother with suing), they let him do his thing. The results are fruitful since the most nitpicky movie fans are absolutely thrilled when there’s a particular move done right.

-He teaches Arno a good few things about how to do action scenes, and they’re definitely good friends.

KASSANDRA

-Roller Derby

-She lives for throwing people and smacking them without being judged for it, so the Derby’s her safe spot.

-Everyone on the opposing team is terrified of her, always scared when they see her devilish smile, knowing that they’re about to get their asses handed to them. Like her brother, she’s an adrenaline junky, and when she’s not doing the derby, she’s going off into car races in a water trench. She’s surprisingly very good with cars too, knowing the inside and out of a car like the back of her hand.

-She loves it when men try to catcall her. It gives her a perfect opportunity to punch them in the face.

-She loves the races themselves because no one expects it. Sometimes she pretends to act like a beginner and absolutely slaughter them, giving them a nice wink before driving out with her cash.

-Only has a soft spot for the girl who visits her on weekends. She’s practically her older sister, and there will be hell to pay if her favorite kid gets hurt in any way.

EIVOR

-BACA(Bikers Against Child Abuse)

-The moment I saw this, I instantly thought about them.

-they would absolutely be a part of this

-Looking all badass in leather while turning into a softie for children? That’s Eivors entire character right there.

-Eivors not afraid to get physical with an abuser. They’d beat the abuser to a pulp and right after take the child out for ice cream.

-No one messes with Eivor, knowing that their lenience was stretched only for children. Anyone else tried to pressure her? Your teeth would be shattered and they’d wear the bits for a necklace.

-Children are much more brave around them because they’re tougher than their parent and on their side, so they’re not afraid to give them to the police

[chaoticminhos]

coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart

--”It was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.”

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: death, guns, chan’s kind of an asshole

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this is the longest shit i’ve written to date n i’m kinda super really proud of it, also sorry for the total fall out boy move i pulled with the title hhh i just like it a lots

you let out a content sigh as your boyfriend trailed his lips along your neck, biting down lightly and sucking on a sweet spot he knew by heart by now. he pulled away and admired his work before capturing your lips with his, pressing your hips down against his growing bulge and making an attempt to deepen the kiss. you pulled away from him with a giggle.

“hyunjin, i really have to go. i promised my dad i’d be up early to help him with some work stuff tomorrow.”

he pouted, “what do you even have to do? why can’t he do it himself?”

you laughed at your boyfriends clingy behavior, “i’m supposed to talk to some girls he’s considering hiring. says i’m less threatening than a tall, scary-looking old man.”

“what’s he hiring for?”

you sighed, he always did this. whenever the topic of your fathers business came up, he could never let it go.

“hyunjin.”

“what?” he tossed a hand in the air, keeping the other delicately on your waist, “is it so bad that i’m curious what my girlfriend does for a living?”

you sighed as he continued.

“i mean, we’ve been together for months and i still know basically nothing about your family business,” he let out a small laugh, “i’m starting to think it’s something illegal.”

you scoffed, smiling down at your boyfriend.

“baby, it’s not illegal, it’s just... private.”

“sounds pretty sketchy to me.”

you brought your lips to his again, smiling against them as you lifted yourself off of his lap with a giggle. he reached out to you with a pout on his face as you distanced yourself from him.

“baby, no, stay a little longer.”

you laughed, tossing your phone into your bag with the rest of your things and putting on your shoes.

“i would if i could, jinnie.”

the pout remained on his lips until you made your way back to him and gave him a last kiss before leaving for the night.

“i love you.”

“love you too.” he smiled up at you from his position on the couch. 

the smile left his features the second the door shut behind you, sinking deeper into his couch with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, and pulling out his phone to dial his bosses number to give his daily update.

it was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.

the phone rang a couple times before it was picked up, his bosses voice on the other end.

“anything new?”

“no, chan.” he ran a hand across his face, “same as the last five months. she still won’t tell me anything.” he sat up, “and she’s never going to. can’t we just accept that this mission failed and find another way to compromise the park mafia?”

“she’ll crack or slip up eventually, hyunjin. she loves you.”

hyunjin let out an exaggerated sigh before ending the call, “who doesn’t?”

he gathered his own things and stepped outside of the apartment, locking the door behind him. although his gang owned the place and he could stay there if he wanted to, he much rather preferred the mansion with the 8 other boys. they’d only bought this small apartment for the sake of his current mission, you’d obviously know something was up if he took you to a huge mansion. 

no, to you, he lived in a small, mediocre apartment that had a creaky floor and annoying neighbors. to you, he worked as a teachers assistant for the college the both of you were attending and that’s how he got his money. 

it was partially true, he did attend the same university as you. you were a freshman and he was in his sophomore year. he didn’t work as a teachers assistant, though. chan provided all the money he needed to keep afloat so he had no reason to work a regular job. to be fair, dating you was kind of like his job. 

he was majoring in business, just like you were. that’s how he made himself present in your life, sharing so many classes with you.

a few weeks into the first semester of your freshman year you ran into someone while on your way to class, bumping right into the chest of one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. you later learned his name to be hwang hyunjin.

“oh, i’m sorry!” you squeaked before looking up to see who you’d accidentally crashed into. 

“it’s okay, that was totally my fault.” he reached his hand out to you with a big smile, “i’m hyunjin.”

you hesitantly took his hand, face flushing as your skin came into contact with his, “y/n.”

“where are you headed, y/n?”

“i have a business lecture soon.” 

“really? so do i! let’s walk together.”

you awkwardly agreed. there wasn’t any way for you to get out of it, not that you really wanted to. despite your shy behavior at first, he kept a good conversation going as he walked you to class. you told him that you were majoring in business to help out with your family business and he told you that the only thing that stressed him out more than classes was his dog.

he offered a small wave when you two split as you entered the classroom.

you sat in your usual spot and glanced to see where he was seated. how had you never noticed him before? sure, the class was huge and there were a bunch of people but you were sure you would have noticed someone like him before. now that you had noticed him, though, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

you recognized some of the boys he sat with. jeongin was a freshman just like you, so you had met him during the freshman introductory meetings and all the ‘student bonding’ activities the school made freshman go to. you knew jisung as well, he was in your biology class. you’d even been paired with him for a project at the way start of the year. he was a good partner, even though he complained the whole time about being one of the only sophomores in a class full of freshman. it was okay though, because he stated that you were an okay freshman.

as you continued to scan his friends for anyone you knew, you noticed him looking in your direction as well. his eyes caught yours and you turned your head quickly, face flushing red as you turned to the front. 

you spent the whole class thing of and sneaking glances at the pretty boy you’d bumped into earlier that day.

hyunjin had asked for your phone number that day after class was over, stating with a red face that he was going to ask you before but he got too scared. from then on, the two of you texted constantly and it wasn’t long before he asked you on a date. you obviously said yes. 

you quickly learned that he was so much more than a just pretty face. he told you more about his dog and how much he loved animals, his eyes lighting up whenever you asked how kkami was doing. he talked so fast when he was speaking of something he really cared about, tripping over his words and apologizing every other sentence for it. he’d gotten over that by now, he stopped apologizing when you told him you thought it was cute. 

he told you about his friends and even introduced you to them. the first time you met them was at his small apartment and you were amazed that you and all 9 of the boys could fit in there. jisung recognized you from class and even remembered your name, which surprised you. you didn’t think of yourself as very memorable. he said someone as pretty as you was very memorable. hyunjin said jisung wasn’t allowed to talk anymore if all he was going to do was flirt with you and you laughed because as much as you enjoyed his friends already, no one could take you away from him.

about a month into the relationship, you had become close with all of the boys. you spent most of your time with hyunjin, but you no longer felt awkward with the other boys around and you weren’t embarrassed by their teasing about you and hyunjin anymore. you learned that most of them were also focusing on business. the only ones who weren’t were jeongin and seungmin, who were in computer programming,

you thought it was odd at first that so many of them were in business. your father always told you to be careful around groups of friends that all majored in business, but many of them had family businesses to take over or help with, just like you. you figured their family ran different sorts of businesses than yours did, but a business is a business no matter how big or legal.

despite your dad not trusting your business major boyfriend or his friends, you came to trust them all very quickly. especially hyunjin.

even after just a month and a half of dating, you knew you loved him. you called him the night you realized it and told him. you figured there was no point in waiting, you had these feelings and you weren’t sorry for it. you could practically hear his smile through the phone as he told you he loved you too. 

when you told your dad you loved him, he told you to break up with him. 

“i don’t trust them,” he said, “they’re probably a gang.”

“they’re not a gang, dad. not every kid majoring in business is doing it to help their father run an illegal business like i am.”

illegal. 

sometimes the word illegal made your stomach feel weird. sure, you knew your dads business wasn’t clean, but it wasn’t anything terrible either. it’s not like you assisted with sex trafficking girls or blowing up buildings with bombs. your dad assured you that nothing you assisted with was ever to hurt anyone or cause anyone danger. you just laundered money. and it wasn’t like you were the ones selling the drugs, you just cleaned the money made from others selling the drugs. it’s different. and you believed him. after all, your dad was a good man. he’d gotten involved with some sketchy men and now your family was roped into illegal activities, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone and he was just doing what was best for your family and following orders from his boss. he owned his company, but he still worked for someone else. so even if there was anything strongly against your morals, it wouldn’t be like you had a choice. 

he explained it to you as a partnership of sorts. they got the money, you weren’t 100% sure how, but selling drugs or theft of various kinds was most likely, and all your family did was clean up the money. 

but even then, you knew what you did was very, very illegal. just because you were following orders doesn’t mean you couldn’t get charged. you had to keep everything you did quiet and you couldn’t talk to anyone but your own family about it. your dad made it clear what could happen if anything about it got out. lots and lots of legal action, or, if you somehow managed to evade the police, being killed by his superiors for messing up.

so to everyone other than your mom and dad, you were just a rich family who liked to invest in places and own buildings. it made a lot of money and it gave you means to launder the money through. you would figure out ways to slip the dirty money into transactions and make it legitimate and able to use.

it was hard keeping it from hyunjin, you didn’t like lying to him. okay well, technically you didn’t have to lie too much, but you had to keep a lot of the truth away from him. sometimes you wished you could talk to him about things, this type of work gets pretty stressful and there’s some stuff you don’t really want to talk to your parents about. plus, whenever you voiced your anxiety revolving around the business and being involved in it you got the same lecture about it being nothing to worry about so long as you keep your mouth shut about it all and don’t mess up.

you couldn’t talk about it much, but hyunjin asked about your work a lot. you knew it was just because it’s kind of weird when your significant other doesn’t really talk about their job. he understood that it was private though. you told him you handled a lot of the financials for things and that stuff was best kept to just employees. again, it wasn’t really a lie! you did handle a lot of money and financials. maybe you should have taken more than the base level economics classes in high school. 

you thought nothing of his curiosity, you’d be curious if he didn’t talk much about his job, either. he made a lot of jokes about you being a secret spy and things like that which made you laugh. he made jokes about you being involved with illegal things, too, but you knew he was joking. he didn’t know, there would be no way for him to know, so you always blew it off and joked back.

but he did know. him and the rest of the boys, they knew as much as there was to know about your family business. they knew who your father was and they knew what type of business he ran. in fact, they knew more about the type of industry your father ran than you did yourself. you were under the impression that the family business consisted of cleaning dirty money, but that was just the start of what your father ran.

he was the head of one of the most dangerous korean mafias, the largest one known for sex trafficking in the country. stray kids focused their attention on bringing down people like your father. sure, they had to pull some legal strings of their own to accomplish their goals, but it was for the benefit of others in the long run. plus, they didn’t hurt innocents. not any more than they had to, at least. 

you, however, were not innocent. most of the boys, hyunjin included, had given up on the idea of you knowing much about your fathers business. they thought you genuinely didn’t know anything bad was happening, but chan was convinced it was an act. no one could be as involved in a business as you were and not know specifics about it. no, you knew what your father ran, he was sure of it.

hyunjin turned the doorknob to the mansion and stepped inside, locking it behind him. he was probably the last home, and if he wasn’t, everyone had a key. 

he carried his things to his room before heading back down the stairs and into the living room where all 8 of his friends were sitting and chatting.

he plopped himself down in an empty spot beside felix on the couch, immediately addressing chan.

“it’s a waste of my time, dude. she doesn’t know anything.”

hyunjin watched as chans jaw clenched. he did not want to be having this argument again.

“she does, hyunjin.”

“i don’t think she does, hyung. and even if she did, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anything out of her.” jisung spoke up.

“she’ll slip up, jisung.”

it was hyunjins turn to speak again, “it’s been over five months and she hasn’t shown any sign of knowing anything about what her father does. i think she really thinks it’s just a normal business.”

“if she thought it was a normal business why would she be so secretive about it?” chan challenged.

hyunjin shrugged, “lots of completely legal things need to be kept secret.”

“you just want to be able to break up with her so you can whore around campus again.” felix teased, causing hyunjin to send a glare in his direction.

“she thinks she’s my girlfriend felix, i have no problem getting my dick wet.”

“even with your dick in her you can’t get any more information out of her in nearly six months than jisung did during a two week bio project.” 

“why are you complaining, jinnie? i’d be all over her if i didn’t know who her father was.” minho chimed in, also earning a glare from hyunjin.

“shut the fuck up.”

“you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

chan cleared his throat to interrupt the bickering, turning to address hyunjin again.

“give it until the six month mark. if she still hadn’t cracked or slipped by then, we’ll find another way.”

hyunjin scoffed, “what, send another one of us on a useless goose chase to try to get information out of her she doesn’t even have?”

“hyunjin, i get that you’re frustrated and six months is a long time to pretend you love someone, but-“ 

he didn’t quite catch the rest of what his leader said, his mind pausing for a moment at those words.

“pretend to love someone.”

he wasn’t given time to analyze why those words made something inside of him churn before chan was snapping his fingers in front of his face to gain his attention back.

“are you good, jinnie?”

“yeah,” he sighed, brushing off his brief moment of discomfort, “just exhausted.”

“it’s hard work, man. you’re a good actor. she really thinks you’re head over heels for her.”

a laugh fell from his lips, “where’s my fucking emmy?”

three weeks.

 just three more weeks and then he could end things with you. three more weeks until he could stop going to that shitty apartment every day after his classes and instead just head straight home to the mansion. god, it’s been forever since he was able to go home before sundown. he always had to stay at the apartment until late at night on the chance that you’d want to see him or come over.

three weeks he reminded himself as he got up to address the knocking at the apartment door. he greeted you with a smile and wide arms.

“hey, baby.”

you snuggled into his chest, “i missed you.”

“you literally saw me last night, you crybaby.”

you pouted up at him, “it’s been almost 24 hours! that’s way too long!”

he laughed before placing a kiss to your nose, lightly holding your arm and leading you to his living room. 

“i already picked a movie, but you can choose a different one if you want.”

you glanced at the screen and pretended to think for a moment, he knew you could never say no to this movie, it was one of your favorite.

“i guess this one will do.”

he chuckled as he made himself one with the couch, opening his arms to welcome you into them while the movie started. he pulled a blanket up over the two of you and secured his arms around you, making sure you were comfortable before focusing his attention on the movie.

about halfway through the film, your witty comments and replies to your boyfriend stopped and were replaced with tiny snores. feeling tired himself, he shut the movie off and reached for his phone to let chan know he would be staying at the apartment tonight. he couldn’t leave you here alone, a real boyfriend wouldn’t do that. he carefully shifted your bodies so you were both laying down and you started to stir, a small groan of annoyance passing your lips.

“shh, baby, go back to sleep.”

you complied, immediately falling back into slumber. as he secured his arms around you once again and you buried your face in his chest in your sleep, he couldn’t help but to smile. 

you looked so cute when you were asleep. how did you manage it? you weren’t even doing anything, but you made a funny feeling pool in his stomach. without much thought, hyunjin placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“goodnight, baby.”

two weeks.

 well, technically it was a week and 6 days. that’s how much longer he had to keep the ruse up. but that countdown was far from his mind.

he was in your apartment this time, and the second you opened the door for him, he had it slammed shut with your back pressed against it. you let out a surprised noise as his lips crashed to yours, but you made no effort to stop it. it was messy, full of teeth, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

you were finally able to speak when he pulled away and started trailing kisses down your neck.

“hyunjin, what’s gotten into you?”

“just,” he spoke between kisses, “had a long day.”

he had multiple tests and he was sure he bombed most, if not all, of them. he was angry and frustrated and he needed to calm down. the first thing that came to his mind whenever he needed to destress was the same as always— you.

you let him pick you up and you wrapped your legs around his body as he carried you to your bedroom, lips never leaving your own. he’d been here so many times that he knew where he was going without having to look.

he laid you with your back to the mattress and wasted no time ridding the both of you of clothes. 

he brought his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth and sucking. you moaned at the feeling, he knew just what you liked and he delivered every single time he took you to bed.

you whined when he removed himself from your breast, the cold air hitting your wet nipple. he traced sloppy, wet kisses down your stomach and across your thighs, stopping before he could reach where you wanted him most.

you would have whined, but you were cut off by his finger suddenly entering you and his lips attaching to your core. he pumped his finger in and out of you slowly before adding another, and then another until you were moaning out that you were close. he pulled away, earning an annoyed huff from your mouth. you’d expected it though, he loved to tease you.

it wasn’t long before he was bottoming out and pounding into you so hard that you almost felt sorry for your neighbors for having to hear the bed squeak like it was.

“baby,” you panted out, “i’m close.”

he took that as his sign to bring his thumb to your core, paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves. he could tell by the way that you clenched around him and moaned his name that you were coming undone. 

he snapped his eyes to your face, eyes screwed shut and bottom lip pulled between your teeth. god, you looked absolutely gorgeous like this. the sight of you in such deep pleasure threw him over the edge, giving a few last thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking himself through his orgasm as he spilled onto your stomach. he rode out his high before leaning down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. he took up, admiring the way you looked, all fucked out with his seed covering your stomach. there it was, that feeling in his stomach again, almost like lightning bugs were coming alive inside of his tummy.

he grabbed a washcloth and cleaned himself off before wiping you clean as well and then helping you to the bathroom. he pulled on a pair of boxers and went to get you a glass of something to drink and a snack. 

you were already back on the bed when he returned and he frowned.

“baby, i could have helped you back.”

you laughed, “it’s okay, my legs aren’t too sore.”

he raised an eyebrow teasingly, “oh, is that so? do i need to work harder next time?”

you laughed again, taking a hold of his arm and pulling him down to lay beside you. he kissed you lightly, reaching to the floor to hand you the t-shirt he had been wearing before for you to put on. you slipped it over your shoulders, loving that it smelled like him.

he smiled, you always looked so cute and small in his clothes.

he made sure you drank some water and ate a little before allowing you to bury your face in his chest and fall asleep. he sent a message to chan yet again that he wouldn’t be coming home that night. in fact, he’d barely slept at the mansion in the past week, spending most of his nights either here or at his ‘apartment’ with you. 

one week.

one more week was supposed to be how much time left hyunjin had with you, but that all came crashing and burning as you stared blankly at his lit up phone screen. he stepped out of his bathroom with a towel around his waist and was met with your confused and hurt eyes.

“hyunjin.” you started, “what the fuck is this?”

you frowned, coming closer to see what you were talking about. there, on the screen of his phone, was a text message from chan.

“she’s not going to break within the next week. bring her to the mansion, i have a plan.”

his eyes widened and he snatched the phone from your hands, quickly dialing chans number and holding the phone to his ear as he used his other arm to try to secure you from running out. he quickly gave up, putting the phone on speaker and tossing it aside and using his full strength to pin you down.

“hello?” chans voice rang from the phone. no response.

“hyunjin, what’s going on?”

raising his voice above your cries, hyunjin spoke.

“chan,  get to the apartment now! she knows.”

it didn’t take long for chan and the rest of the boys to arrive, the mansion wasn’t that far away and it’s not like they were obeying any speeding laws.

it was surprisingly easy for hyunjin to keep you contained while they were on their way. after a few minutes, you stopped struggling against him. there was a look in your eyes that made him feel like throwing up and he almost wished you would keep fighting against him so he wouldn’t have to see it. 

you didn’t struggle as they lead you to a car and shoved you in the backseat, either. you knew you were no match for 9 guys. plus, what were they going to do, torture you? nothing could hurt you more than the aching in the pit of your stomach at that moment. hyunjin didn’t love you. 

they didn’t bother to cover your eyes on the car ride or to shield you from seeing their home. great. that meant it didn’t matter what you saw. they were probably going to kill you. you choked down a sob as the idea of hyunjin holding a gun to your head. 

they brought you into a room with a cement floor and cement walls and you scoffed lightly, they must do this often, you thought, to have a whole room for it. there was even a big, deep brown stain covering a part of the floor, showing that they’d brought people to and disposed of people in that very room before.

you didn’t fight as they brought your hands to a set of chained cuffs that were connected to the wall. there was about four feel of chain, giving you a small area to move around. you tugged lightly as they secured the cuffs around your wrists, there was no getting out of them. not that it mattered.

even if you did manage to escape that room somehow, it was no use. you didn’t know the layout of the building. sure, you knew that they’d brought you down a flight of stairs and you’d made a right turn somewhere or another, but you hadn’t been paying attention.

you only moved to acknowledge them when they all crowded into the small room, watching you like they expected something from you. you felt tears roll down your face as you observed the people you called your friends and the boy you were in love with mutter amongst themselves about what to say first.

“what am i doing here?”

chan was the one to respond and you caught on pretty quick that he was the leader of whatever they had.

“you tell me, y/n.”

you leaned your back against the hard wall and slid down until you were in a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest.

“is this about my dad?” you began and chan raised his eyebrows as if to say i told you so to the others, “did we cut you short? i’m sorry, we had a rough month last month and-“

changbin cut you off, “cut us short?”

you nodded, “not clean enough? i swear we’ll make it back, pay you double what we missed-“

“what are you talking about?”

you frowned, “isn’t that what this is about? we- we launder for you, right?”

chan crouched down so he was eye level with you, “we don’t give a shit about money laundering, y/n. we’re concerned with the human trafficking and selling young girls and boys like they’re cattle.”

your eyes went wide, “we don’t-“

hyunjin scoffed, “y/n, why do you really think your dad puts out ads for young interns so often? where do they all go?”

you looked at him. his tone was so, so cold, but you swore you saw something akin to pain in his dark eyes.

“he has you screen all those girls for jobs, but do you ever see them at work?”

you shook your head.

“but you already knew that they weren’t getting jobs, didn’t you?” chan questioned.

you processed their words and the more you thought of it the more it made sense. why else would he have you interview so many people when you couldn’t think of anywhere they would be put to work? no, there had to be an explanation. your dad would never do that. your mom would never okay it.

your eyes locked with chans and something inside of you broke, he really thought you were involved with human trafficking. he thought you were capable of conning people your age into trusting you and then giving them to creepy old men to buy and use like toys. his eyes showed no sign of doubting himself on it.

you broke down, burying your face in your hands and curling up into yourself, trying to disappear. how could he think that of you? is this what they all thought? what hyunjin thought?

chan scoffed and stood as he was about to say something else, but jisung interrupted in a hesitant and soft tone.

“hyung, i really don’t think she knew.”

chan looked at him before looking back at your distressed state, desperately trying to catch your breath and stop the tears. you didn’t want to look so pathetic in front of them.

“we can talk more later. she’s no use right now.”

he turned to leave the room and everyone followed him out, save hyunjin. he lingered, waiting until everyone else was out before pulling the door shut and crouching down next to you.

he reached a hand to smooth down your hair but you recoiled from his touch. he seemed shocked at your reaction but regained composure so quickly you weren’t even sure if what you saw was surprise.

was he really still going to act like he cared? the tears staining your cheeks weren’t given a chance to dry as more fell over them.

despite your attempt to hide how badly you were breaking, your voice shook with every word you said.

“why, hyunjin?”

he stood and shrugged, his caring personality from moments before long gone. you guessed you had imagined it after all. 

“it’s just work.”

“you-“ your voice broke, “you never loved me! you let me think you loved me.”

he just stared at you. you couldn’t tell what was worse, when he pretended to care or moments like that where it was obvious he never did.

“you let me fall in love with you, hyunjin!” you were yelling by now, “i trusted you! i let you take my virginity and i-“ you choked down a sob, “i loved you so much.” you raised your eyes to meet his, “it meant nothing to you? you didn’t feel anything? all the times you said you loved me and all the times you made love to me, you felt nothing?”

if there was any flicker of guilt or pain he felt at your words, he did a hell of a job hiding it.

“nope.” he shrugged, speaking with a dry tone, “having something to put my dick in was just a perk of the job.”

you didn’t say anything else, you just watched him leave in silence, letting yourself sink completely to the floor as the door shut behind him.

you couldn’t see it, but in the hallway just outside the door, hyunjin pressed the back of his head against the wall as he brought his hands to his face, desperately trying to shake the aching feeling from his heart.

to say you were surprised when they actually brought you breakfast the next morning would be an understatement. you expected cruel, harsh punishments until you confessed to things you didn’t even know. 

instead, you got a neat plate containing pancakes, eggs, and some bacon, all delivered by the youngest of the group, the only one that was a freshman with you.

you hesitantly accepted, chuckling softly at the plastic cutlery. 

“thanks, jeongin.”

he fidgeted nervously, “no problem, noona. hyunjin said you liked this kind of stuff for breakfast so-“

he stopped speaking mid sentence  when your eyes snapped up from the plate to him at the mention of your boyfriends name. 

was he even your boyfriend anymore? ex boyfriend?

“did he make these?” you gestured to the pancakes. jeongin nodded, and suddenly the food didn’t seem as appealing as it had when he first brought it. 

you managed to choke down most of the meal, but not even a whole bottle of maple syrup could cover up the bitter taste the food left in your mouth. you thought back to all the other times he’d made you breakfast like this. 

the morning after you let him take your virginity came to your mind. he’d woken you up with a gentle kiss and gave you breakfast in bed. he ate with you and told you how much he loved you, that he never wanted to lose you. the memory used to be one of your favorites, now it just made you want to throw up the pancakes you’d forced down your throat earlier.

jeongin stayed with you until you told him you were done eating and you were surprisingly sad to see him leave, shutting the door behind him when he left and leaving you alone in the cold room again.

jeongin brought you all of your meals. he brought you lunch and dinner that day. he sat with you the whole time you ate those, too. he always seemed like he wanted to say something to you but was hesitant to. he seemed to genuinely feel bad for doing this to you. 

jeongin was the only person you’d seen all day until a few hours after dinner, you couldn’t tell the time, the nine of them squished into your cell again, just like the day before. you were mentally preparing yourself for another emotional draining.

you flinched when felix took a step towards you, reaching his hands to yours. he assured you he didn’t want to hurt you, saying that jeongin mentioned he’d noticed you needed patching up. he examined your wrists, all bruised and cut up from struggling against the cuffs. it’s funny, you hadn’t even realized your injuries. hell, you hadn’t realized you were struggling enough to cause yourself injury. 

he pushed the cuffs away from the major cuts and bruises before taking an alcohol wipe to them. you hissed when it came in contact with your cuts, wincing at the way the cloth turned red so quickly.

he wrapped small bandages around both of your wrists, both to keep the old cuts from opening and to prevent new ones.

felix offered a small smile as he finished up and joined the rest of the boys on the other side of the room. 

the gentle moment was short lived.

“anything new to tell us since yesterday, y/n?”

your eyes fell on the source of the voice, none other than chan. you let out a sad laugh.

“it seems like you’re the ones enlightening me.”

he lurched forward, grabbing the chain of the cuffs and pulling you close to him so your faces were only inches apart. you winced at the harsh movement against your wrists.

“you think this is funny?”

you didn’t respond, so he tugged the chain again, earning another small cry from you. this was not the chan you knew and it terrified you.

“hyung-“ jeongin began, only to be cut off by a glare from chan.

“no.”

another small tug, what a fucking sadist.

“no, i swear, i don’t know anything. okay? i swear.”

he stared into your eyes for longer than you were comfortable with before releasing his grip on the cuffs, letting your hands drop.

without saying anything more, he left the room. the others went to follow him out, but were stopped by your small voice.

“jeongin?”

he turned, making his way to you. you lifted up your wrists, showing the bandages completely bled through. chan tugging on them must have irritated them. hyunjin lingered at the door and watched the way you let jeongin move your hand around to look at it so comfortably, so different from how you’d cowered away from him the day before.

it frustrated him, seeing you trusting jeongin like that. it should be him, right? you don’t even know jeongin that well, but you’d know him for months. he couldn’t blame you, though. why would you still trust him after everything he’d put you through?

he was snapped out of his thoughts as jeongin met him at the door and stated he needed to go to the medical wing to get bandages to replace the bloodied ones you had on. hyunjin contemplated staying with you while jeongin went to grab the supplies, but one quick look at you could tell you were begging him not to.

he was angry at chan. there was no reason to treat you like that. he didn’t care that it was you because he didn’t have any feelings for you, but no one deserved that treatment when it’s unsure and improbable that they’re guilty.

he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was just him getting used to not having to act like he did. he didn’t actually care for you. 

he didn’t, right?

jeongin brought you breakfast again the next morning, immediately going to check your bandages. he smiled when he saw that they hadn’t been too soiled, meaning you didn’t bleed too much since last night. 

you stared at the food and it was like he could guess what you were thinking.

he nudged you with a small smile, “i made breakfast this morning.”

you chuckled before taking a bite of what he’d made.

“chan hyung says he believes you, by the way.”

you cocked your head in confusion.

“he thinks you’re innocent.”

you scoffed, “that’s good, because i am.”

“he’s really not that mean, you know.”

you huffed again, raising your wrists and showing the bandages and cuffs.

“he’s a sadistic prick who kills people for no reason.” you gestured to the blood stain on the floor.

“oh, you mean that? no, chan shot him because he ran a huge animal fighting ring.”

your eyes widened. okay, maybe the man deserved some respect.

jeongin had had just left to take your plate to the kitchen when hyunjin, changbin, and chan entered your little cell. 

you noticed hyunjin eyeing the bandages but chose not to vocalize it.

“we believe you.”

you remained seated on the cold floor.

“but we can’t just let you go, you’re a threat now. you know who we are and you know we’re after your father.”

“so, what? you’re going to keep me locked up in here forever?”

“i was thinking of giving you your own room and bed actually, but if you’d prefer this...”

he glanced around the room and the corners of your mouth turned up at chans attempt to joke with you. this was the chan you knew. not the one who toyed with your injuries the day before.

“look, y/n, i know he’s your father, but it’s clear you don’t want anything to do with what he’s really running. if you want, you’re welcome to stay here.”

“and if i don’t want to?”

he smiled again, “well, it’s not really a choice, i was just trying to be polite.”

this even got a smile back from you, which irked hyunjin even more. you could look chan in the eyes and smile for him when he’d practically tortured you less than 24 hours earlier but you couldn’t even meet his eyes?

“so?”

chans phone chirped and he slipped it out of his pocket.

“okay.”

he nodded to show he’d heard your response, “i have to go. seungmin says the front cameras detected motion.”

he handed the key to hyunjin before hurrying out the door. hyunjin made a move towards you, but stopped when he saw the glare on your face. he turned, handing the key to changbin. he clenched his jaw shut as changbin moved closer to you and you didn’t do much as tense up at his proximity. we’re you really that angry at him?

before changbin could unlock your cuffs, his phone went off with the same sound chans had.

“shit, more motion detectors went off.”

he passed the key to hyunjin and, seeing that he was your last option, you allowed him to get close enough to you to slip the key into the handcuffs, finally freeing you of them.

you rubbed your wrists, wincing at the contact. he looked at your wrists and your tear stained face.

there was nothing he wanted to do more in that moment than kiss it all better.

suddenly, two men you’d never seen before stormed into the room, guns raised. hyunjin seemed to recognize them, stepping in front of you.

“woah, woah, woah! chan cleared her, she’s good to go.”

was he protecting you? no, he was just standing up for you because chan had decided to keep you alive.

“that was then. he changed his mind.”

hyunjin adjusted the way he was standing to a more protective stance, covering your entire body with his own. maybe he did care.

“what? why?”

one of the men gestured to you with his gun before lowering it, “her little rescue squad showed up.”

hyunjin turned back to you as if to ask “is that true?”

you shook your head, you didn’t know anything about a rescue. how did your dad even know you were here?

“move, hwang. chans orders.”

you felt your stomach drop as he slowly moved out from in front of you. your eyes went wide and locked with his. he looked just as scared as you felt.

you turned back to the two men as they raised their guns again. you shut your eyes, praying that despite what they’d done to you, all nine of the boys got out of this alright. and despite how much you loved your parents, you hoped that they got taken down.

you took in a deep breath, waiting for the gunshot.

you felt your heart stop as two shots rang out.

you slowly opened your eyes, you didn’t feel a bullet wound. you were met with the two men laying on the ground with bullet holes in their heads. you turned to see hyunjin putting his gun back into his waistband before reaching out for your hand.

you pulled away, maybe he had just saved you from assassination, but you were not going anywhere with him. you had to find jeongin, he would keep you safe.

you weren’t able to act on your decision, though. he grabbed your arm, right above where the bandage stopped so he wouldn’t hurt you, and pulled you out of the room. you cringed as you stepped over the two bodies, careful not to step into the puddle of blood.

he lead you down a hallway that you vaguely remembered walking through when they first brought you here. you follow him up a staircase and he mumbled to you that he was taking you to his car so he could get you out of there. just before you were able to reach the garage, you was cut off by a few men you didn’t recognize. you looked at hyunjin, assuming they worked with him, but he shook his head. before you registered that they must work for your dad, two men had pulled hyunjin away from you and were holding him still. another one of the men pressed a button on the device in his ear.

“sir, we found her.”

you couldn’t run, they would kill hyunjin. you had no choice but to wait for who you assumed was your father to show up.

when he did, he immediately pulled you into a big hug. you pushed him away, disgusted. he didn’t seem to notice your disdain, grabbing your wrist and lifting it up with concern in his eyes.

“i told you they were no good, honey.”

you pulled yourself from his grip, ignoring the sting in your wrist for doing so.

“don’t fucking touch me.”

he reached out to you, but you swatted him away.

“my angel, what lies did they tell you to make you act this way?”

you swallowed hard before speaking, “they said you run a large human trafficking ring. that you use the people you say i’m interviewing for jobs and sell them to people like they’re just a toy to play with. people my age, dad.” your voice shrunk, “how long until you run out of people to pawn off and decide to sell me?”

he let out a small laugh, “sweetheart, i would never let you get in the hands of men like that! look, i even saved you from these pathetic excuses for men.”

hyunjin jerked around in the men’s arms and you locked eyes with him for a moment. you turned back to your father and forced a smile onto your lips.

“you’re right, daddy. you saved me. i should have listened to you when you told me to break up with him so long ago.”

he smiled back, “it’s okay cupcake, we all make mistakes.” you tried not to cringe as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“here,” he pulled a gun from his waistband, the one he swore he only carried to protect you and your mother, “you deserve the honors.”

you took the gun from his hands, forcing a smile to stay on your face as you familiarized yourself with the way it felt to hold. you’d shot a gun before, but never outside of a shooting range.

“you remember how, dear?” your father asked.

you nodded, lifting it up in both of your hands and pointing it at hyunjin. his eyes were frantic, like he knew you were planning something, but there was still an ounce of doubt, a small part of him that thought you would pull the trigger.

you clicked the safety off and fired a shot at the floor without hesitating. the noise rang through your ears, it was sure to be heard around the entire mansion, right? the boys would hear it and come running to help.

your dad lunged to take the gun from you but you raised it again, pointing it at him. everyone was shocked and hyunjin took that as an opportunity to free himself from his captors, moving so he was shoulder to shoulder with you and pulling out his own gun. you ignored the volt of electricity that shot through you at finally being close to him again.

your fathers men raised their own weapons and your dad made no attempt to have them lower their arms.

he let out a dry laugh, “i thought i raised you better than this.”

before you could spit back a reply, hyunjin did it for you.

“what, better than not operating a sex ring?”

“better than spending her time with some lowlife-“

shots rang through the building and you felt hyunjin tackle you, trapping you between his body and the floor and shielding you from the gunfire. after what felt like hours, the noise stopped and you heard minho speak.

“jesus fucking christ, is that all of them then?”

hyunjin slowly picking himself up off of you, checking to make sure the coast was clear before letting you back out into the open. the first thing you laid eyes on was the body of your father, fallen to the ground with a hold in his chest and his white button up stained red.

“no!” you screamed, and hyunjin pulled you into his chest, shielding you from looking at your fathers corpse any longer. you wept into his chest. you barely heard him yell for someone to move the body as you felt your heart snap even more, which you didn’t think was possible. 

you only looked back up when you heard chans voice, and he sounded mad.

“hyunjin, why the fuck is she still alive?”

you jumped at his words and hyunjin held you tighter.

“why would she need to be dead, hyung?” he yelled back.

he didn’t respond to hyunjin, instead directing his words at you.

“how the fuck did they know you were here?”

“i-i really don’t know chan, i’m sorry, he always talked about thinking you guys were a gang and i guess he assumed it was you who took me and-“

you cut yourself off with a sob, muttering ‘i’m sorry’ over and over again, hoping to god he would see that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

changbin approached him, wrapping and arm around his shoulder and suggesting they go for a walk. chan agreed, leaving with changbin.

jeongin kneeled down beside where you and hyunjin were still bundled together.

“he’ll calm down, noona, he knows you didn’t do anything, he’s just upset. felix got shot.”

you sat up straight, “what? is he okay?”

jeongin nodded, waving a hand dismissively, “he’s fine, it was just a graze, but hyung’s always been super protective over felix.”

you nodded, relaxing into hyunjins arms again. you had been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t realized that the rest of the boys had moved all of the bodies already. your chest stung when you remembered your father was among them.

 your father. he was dead, but what about your mom? was she okay?

you patted your pockets for your phone, but they’d taken it from you when they took you from hyunjins apartment.

“hey, woah, baby, what’s wrong?”

“can i use your phone?”

he agreed, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to you. you dialed your mothers phone number.

as the phone rang, you ran possible scenarios through your head. did she know what your father was really doing, or was she in the dark, just like you? 

the phone went to voicemail. you left a message saying it was you and that you were okay and to call back when she got it.

you couldn’t stop thinking about why it just kept ringing. why didn’t she answer?

you handed hyunjin back his phone and allowed him to help you stand. you weren’t injured, but you were shaking from the stress of what had just happened and your legs nearly buckled underneath you.

he caught you, picking you up in his arms. you didn’t have the effort to object like you normally would whenever he picked you up.

he told the boys he was going to take you to get cleaned up and they okayed it, saying they would handle clean up and for him to focus on making sure you were okay.

you felt bad when he laid you on his bed, it was so nice and neat and you were gross from being locked up for days. he insisted that it was fine as he dug through his wardrobe for the smallest pair of sweatpants he owned before lifting you back in his arms and carrying you to his bathroom.

you were in awe as he sat you on the edge of the tub, who needed a bathroom this fancy? he laughed at your amazement, tugging the hem of your shirt.

“let’s get these off and you can see how nice the tub is, yeah?”

you nodded, allowing him to slip your short over your shoulders. you removed the rest of your clothing yourself while he got the bath ready for you. 

“is this temperature okay, baby?”

you reached a hand into the water and nodded.

“perfect.”

he helped you into the water and you chuckled as he poured some bubble bath solution in.

“you take bubble baths?” you teased.

he scoffed, “are you crazy? of course i take bubble baths.”

he helped you scrub the dirt off of yourself and you couldn’t help but feel bad that he was helping. he was still fully clothed, the fabric getting drenched the more he interacted with you in the water.

when you commented on it, he smirked, “what, you saying you want my clothes off?”

you laughed and hit his arm, causing bubbles to stick to his shirt sleeve.

his eyes widened and his smile grew, “oh, it’s on!”

he leaned forward to tickle you but he missed, falling into the bath beside you.

you threw your head back and laughed as he pushed his hair back and wiped the bubbles from his face.

“ew! i fell into the gross y/n water!”

you went to hit him but he caught your arm, careful not to grab the hurt part of your wrist.

“i’m just kidding” he spoke softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

he helped you wash up a bit more before draining the tub and taking you to the shower to wash off. although you bathed, that meant you sat in that dirt and grime for the whole time.

he stepped in with you, it’s not like he had anything to lose with his clothing already drenched. you smiled as he poured some of his shampoo into his hands and worked it through your hair, it smelled just like him.

when you were finished, he gave you the pair of sweats he’d picked out earlier and one of his sweatshirts, the one you always asked him to wear so you could steal it. he made sure you were comfy and had something to drink before showering off himself, finally slipping out of the uncomfortably wet garments and stepping into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt of his own. 

he walked back to his bed smiled at the sight of you in it, fast asleep. he couldn’t blame you, you’d had a rough couple of days.

his attention was moved from you to his phone when it started buzzing on the table next to his bed. he frowned, not recognizing the number of the caller. regardless, he answered and put the phone to his ear.

“hello?”

“y/n? oh my god, who are you, where’s y/n?”

it must be your mother. he shook you awake, feeling guilty that he had to wake you when you obviously needed the rest.

“baby, it’s your mom.”

you took the phone from him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“mom? are you okay?”

a sigh of relief fell from her lips, “i’m fine baby, the police just showed up at my door and told me all of the things your father was involved with. god, i’m so sorry baby, i had no clue. i thought it was just... anyway, they offered me witness protection if i testify against the company, i won’t be charged with anything. i just-“ she cut herself off with a sniffle.

“i know, mom, me too. “ you paused, “did they tell you about dad?”

“yes, sweetheart, they did. they got an anonymous call stating where his body was. looks like he was shot. it’s less than what he deserved.”

you let out a little gasp, “mom!”

“what, baby? it’s true, you and i both know it.”

you sighed, she wasn’t wrong, but he was still your father and her husband, “i guess so.”

“okay sweetheart, it’s late, you should get some sleep. call me if you need anything, okay? i love you.”

“okay. i love you too, mom. goodnight.”

you handed hyunjin his phone and he placed it back on the table before leaning over and placing a kiss to your lips. he crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close to his body.

“i know chan offered you your own room, but what would you say about staying in mine?”

[bebepac]

The Double Date Mistake?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 92 “I don’t think that was meant to go there.” will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 2 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing of the Meet so far Please click:  The Meet Masterlist

Original Post Date: 05/01/2021 at 3:15PM

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x F!OC (Liam x Jilian) 

Word Count: 1948

Summary: Jilian goes on a double date with Bebe and meets Leo for the very first time.  Jilian and Bebe share how they first met each other to the guys.  

Warnings: Sexual innuendos.  Profanity.  

Leo and Liam belong to pixelberry, Jilian belongs to @queenjilian borrowed for the duration of this series. All others are my own to help us tell the story.  

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”  

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t.  The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone.  What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”  

“I mean he’s still working Bebe.  He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother  hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”  

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.”   Jili called out the window to her.

Jilian wasn’t going to let it stress her out.  He was still at work. She knew her job got busy at times, and she couldn’t just sit on her phone and do nothing.  As she was walking up the stairs to scan her door key fob, the phone rang.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Jilian. It’s Liam.”

“Hi Liam.”

“I apologize for not texting or calling sooner.  Things got busy at work.”

“Oh I figured that was what happened.”  

"Bebe is something else. I feel a little attacked. I can tell it's from a place of love though."

"She's my best friend Liam. My true sister from another mister."

"So it's safe to assume you are single?" Liam inquired.

"I am, and for you the same?"

"Yes Jilian I am. Is it forward of me to say maybe we can change that for each other. I would really like to see you again. I'm off next Friday would you be free then?"

Jilian sighed.

"Friday is my date night."

"Oh. I just assumed you being single you weren’t seeing anybody even casually."

"With Bebe. We restaurant hop. We're self proclaimed foodies. 

Do you have any friends maybe we could double?”

“My brother, both him and Bebe have big personalities, I think they’d really get along.  Think she would be okay with that?”

“Yeah I think I could convince her.”  

They continued to talk, and about everything under the sun.  Liam was funny and witty and kept her attention.

She began to realize how much she had in common with the charming Liam Rys.  

She had cuddled into her bed under her covers laughing and chatting with him.  She finally rolled over realizing it was almost dawn.

“Oh my God! Is that the sun?!?!?!” she shrieked, surprised into the phone.

“I’m so sorry Jilian I completely lost track of time.”

“I have to go, I have to be at work in forty five minutes!!!”

Jilian said her goodbyes to Liam and hurried to work.  

Right when Jilian was sitting in her office reading over her chart  for her first patient’s checkup, there was a delivery.  

A large coffee drink had been delivered to her with a sweet gooey cinnamon bun.

“Gift for you Jilian Winchester.”  

Liam was really sweet.

She texted him thank you.

He had let her know he had an extra espresso shot added to her coffee.

Liam was a lifesaver.  

*^*^*^*^* The Double Date *^**^*^*^*

When Jili and Bebe got to the restaurant  Liam and Leo were already seated at the table both stood to greet them.  

Liam softly kissed  Jili’s cheek.  

Bebe glanced at Leo.  He was cute, but he was probably about five inches shorter than Bebe, not to mention Bebe was wearing heels making her tower over Leo.

Liam changed the subject breaking the ice between everyone, and the conversation between the couples started flowing.  

Jilian slipped in the subject of Liam and Leo honestly not looking much like each other.  

“We’re half brothers, we have different mothers. But don’t get it twisted Bebe.  I can scale you like Mount Everest. Taller women don’t intimidate me one bit.”

“Um….thank you for that blatant honesty…. Jili will you accompany me to the restroom please?”  

“Excuse us for a moment.”  Jili smiled politely.  

“Absolutely not Jili!!!!!”  Bebe was adamant when the door to the bathroom closed.  

“Bebe I didn’t know!  I swear when he said older brother, I was thinking he looked like him.  You would think older brothers are taller, bigger, and wiser. He is funny though.  You two do have similar personalities. Maybe try to focus on that Bee.  Let’s just try to have a fun time.  You don’t have to see Leo again.  But I know I want to see Liam again. I like him.”  

“You owe me big for this!!!”

Both women come back to the table.  Their drink orders had arrived.  Bebe takes a long sip on her drink.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”  Leo smiled.  “A girl after my own heart.”  

“How did you and Bebe meet Jilian?”  

“We actually met in NOLA. We were both presenting at a medical conference.  Bebe for the Pharma side, because she’s a pharmacist,  and me for medical for being a nurse practitioner focused in the at risk population.”

Leo eyes flit to Bebe.

“So you’re a drug dealer?”  

Bebe smiled.  “ Legal Drug Dealer. Yep, that’s what I call myself. I’m slinging pills to pay the bills.”  

“I can dig it.”  

“We met the night before our conference began, in a bar.”  

When Jilian walked into the bar she noticed her right away.  There was a woman at the bar,  drinking her drink telling what appeared to be a funny story that had multiple people’s attention.  All were laughing with her.   She had to be a local. Jili thought.  

She had strings of beads around her neck.  

“What can I get ya?”  the bartender asked.  

She looked at Bebe.  “I want whatever she’s having.”  Bebe was the life of the party.  

“Well I did a little pre-gaming at the drive through daiquiri shop though. 

But mostly Hurricanes.  Get her a Hurricane Sal.”  

The bartender winked at Bebe.  

“Don’t skimp on the good stuff either!”  She yelled out.

Jilian’s eyes widened when the bartender  brought her the drink.

Bebe held up her glass to clink with Jilian’s glass.

“Laissez le bon temps rouler!!!!!”   The crowd screamed in agreement at Bebe’s declaration.

“What?”  

“LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!!!!!”  

Jilian took a long drink of the cocktail.  No wonder.  

“Yep! You like it.  I’m Bebe, what’s your name?”

“Jilian.”  

“I’m gonna call you Jili.  What brings you to NOLA?”  

“Work, a conference.”  

“Bleh you said the “W.” word.  That’s not existing in my life right now.  We’re here, we’re alive, no regrets Jili.  Let your hair down and enjoy yourself.  I mean literally.  That bun is a buzz kill.”  

Jili pulled the pins out of her hair shaking out her locks.  

“So much better!!!! You’re a babe!!!  See they’re already looking at you differently.  We’re not interested though.  Unless they’re buying more drinks.”  

Jili glanced at the guys that were now looking in her direction.  

“You’ve got a lot of bead necklaces going on.”   Jili commented.  

“There are two ways to get beads in NOLA.  Buy them or earn them.”

Jili looked at Bebe and raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“Let me guess, your ass hasn’t spent a dime tonight.”  

Bebe took a long sip of her hurricane.  

“Nope.  Not a single dime.  Including alcohol.  I'll tell you what Jili.  Life’s too short.  I’m not going to regret any of my choices.  I spent a year in Costa Rica, living my life Pura Vida.”

“Pure Life.”  Jilian smiled.  Bebe was a carefree spirit, and people gravitated to her.

“We’re only here for a blink Jili.  How do you want your story to be told?”

She decided to throw caution to the wind and party the night away with Bebe.

Jilian’s alarm went off the next morning.  She was incredibly hung over as she tried to pull herself together.  

She had a random memory of her and Bebe walking down  Bourbon Street singing “Lean on Me”  while they were linked arm and arm.  The drunk leading the more drunk back to the hotel.

She smiled, straightening her black business suit.  She was about to pull her hair up into her signature bun but decided to let her tresses fall free instead.  

As she was getting checked into the convention she slipped her ID badge and program of speakers, herself among the list.  

She heard her laugh.  Jili whipped her head around and saw Bebe at the back of the line with two others.  Bebe was wearing a bright pink business suit, and her shoes and clutch had the print of medications on it.  

“The legal drug dealers have arrived!!!! Big Pharma in da house!!!!!!”  

Jili laughed, shaking her head.  

“That’s how we met Liam.”  

“We found out later we lived near each other, and made plans to meet up.  Been friends ever since.  That was like six years ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask us how we met.”  Leo asked.

“I assume you are brothers…. You met… at birth?”

Bebe shook her head at Leo.

Everyone was calm after not to mention the alcohol free flowing.  They headed to  a lounge after dinner, called Blue Notes.  The music there was full of soul and blues.  

The drinks continued. The music there stirred the soul.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jili nodded, taking Liam’s hand.   He held her close.  

Leo eyed Bebe.   “You know, I have always been one to have a huge case of FOMO.  So you and me let’s hit the dance floor too.”  

Bebe downed her drink in one swallow.  “Why the hell not.”  

They walked out to the dance floor.  With Bebe’s high heels Leo was chest level to her.  He pulled her close resting his head on her bosom.

“Um….so we’re doing this… okay…”  Bebe looked surprised but she was smiling.

Liam laughed softly when he glanced in their direction.

“I don’t think that was meant to go there.”  

“The height difference honestly never crossed my mind Jilian.  Things seemed really awkward for them for a bit, for more so Bebe.  Not so awkward now.”  

Bebe and Leo were looking at each other laughing.

“You know this is never going to happen Leo Rys.”  

“A man can dream.  Well….It could happen for the night.  I can tell you’re curious. Let me tickle your fancy tonight.”

Bebe laughed harder at him.  “You don’t give up do you Leo?”

“Nope because I get what I want.”    

“If nothing else Jilian, I think they will at least be friends from this, if nothing romantic happens.”

The next morning Liam was cooking  breakfast when Bebe walked out of Leo’s room. Leo’s sweatpants looked like capris on Bebe.  

“Good Morning Bebe. Would you like some breakfast?”  

“Sure.”

Leo walked out of the room a few minutes later.  

Liam smiled looking at the two of them.  

“Breakfast Leo?”  

“I already ate.”  Leo winked at Bebe.

Bebe choked on her orange juice.  

“Oh you were talking about bacon and eggs, sure.”  

Nope not at all awkward at all.  Liam thought as he fixed plates for himself Leo and Bebe.

Bebe was climbing in her ride share when her phone rang.

“Bebe… Liam just told me you had breakfast with him and Leo… at his apartment.  You spent the night with Leo?”  

“Leo was right, Jili.  Not all of him is fun sized.”

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