#I know I’m throwing stones from the glass house of cringe but come on man

[tg-headcanons]

Are you aware of the Tokyo Ghoul Tumblr accounts.

they are kaneki, juuzou, Urie, touka, Haise, saiko, hide, and I think that's it maybe there's a Tsukiyama one

If by “aware of them” you mean “have blocked quite a few people trying to roleplay at me” then yes I am very aware of them

[cdroloisms]

Dream thought that he can bring server together, he thought that they can be one big family... Well at least he really bond them, even if they bonded to fight against him. Even if that mean he's not part of this server anymore.

right,, the one big happy family thing always destroys me

bc it’s really the driving force behind everything he’s done, the reason why he’s cut off everything he’s ever loved, moved forwards despite everything he’s ever lost. it doesn’t make what he does right, by any means, but c!dream’s longing for a better past, his clinging to a family he loved and lost - it’s so desperately, painfully human and is very much the cherry on top of his whole tragic story. it’s something that tugs at my heart every time i think about it - especially how in the end, pretty much nobody knew what drove him to the lengths he went to, and how everyone still sees him as being motiveless, or doing it all for personal gain and power. it’s reasonable, with their limited povs, but oh man does it hurt when we know his real reasoning.

this,, ended up weirdly long haha but oh man was it fun. have some dream team angst as i cry abt c!dream for the millionth time 

tws: death, grief, off-screen murder, implied mental deterioration

Two weeks after Dream dies, Sapnap asks George if he wants to come to the vault.

He almost says no. It’d be an early journey if they want to get out without anyone seeing, and he’s just- tired. He’s been tired for months even though he spends most of his time sleeping, usually can’t even find the energy to pull himself out of bed. The weird dreams hadn’t helped in the slightest, though they’ve been gone for a few weeks, and he’s not seen XD in a long time, save for a few minutes after he first heard the news. In all honesty, he doesn’t want to deal with the mental strain of anything to do with Dream at all.

But- Sapnap is still his best friend, even if they’ve grown apart ever since that fateful night with Dream, and he still knows the Netherborn better than nearly- well, everyone, now, with Dream gone. As much as Sapnap tried to put on a strong front, Dream’s death had taken its toll.

Killing Dream had taken its toll.

He’d been asleep (again) when it all went down, but he knows that somehow, Dream had escaped prison. Somehow, it ended with Sapnap’s sword stabbed hilt-deep in Dream’s chest, an unmarked grave in the forest behind the Community House that he knows Sapnap visits when he thinks nobody’s watching.

So when Sapnap asks, dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes, if he wants to come with him to see what belongings they can find in Dream’s old blackstone-brick vault- he says yes.

“There,” Sapnap gestures over the crest of a netherrack cliff above a bubbling lava lake, and George strains to look at what the other is pointing at. There, settled over a small outcrop of netherrack and gravel, a messy bridge of various blocks leading from it, lies the signature black and purple silhouette of a nether portal. “It’s just across that.”

George hums in acknowledgement, and they clamber down in sync. It’s been a while since he’s spent time one-on-one with Sapnap like this; George had half-forgotten what it feels like, to work with someone so different and yet know them so well. Years and years of teamwork means they fall in step almost without thinking, Sapnap easily sliding forward to block a skeleton’s arrow while George nocks one of his own to shoot it through the skull. It is a partnership built on years of bickering and banter and deep-set trust, of having to face a stronger, more agile opponent together through wind and rain and snow.

He missed it, though he’ll never admit that to anyone but himself.

He hesitates in front of the nether portal, pulling Sapnap back automatically by his sweater sleeve. “You sure the other side is safe?”

“Yeah, yeah- it should be,” Sapnap pulls his arm away, lets him enter the portal first before stepping into the frame himself. “Not a manhunt.”

“Mm,” George laughs, tired. “Just checking.”

The portal hums, purple creeping into the corners of George’s vision and filling it until it’s all he can see, and he rubs at his eyes to clear his vision as he stumbles out the other side. Sapnap walks out, seeming unfazed - it’s always been something that George has envied in the other, how unaffected he is by portals, but he’s also always had worse portal sickness than most- “We’re here.”

The place is - put lightly, a wreck, wooden planks scattered all over the floor and inch-deep water sloshing around his shoes. “What’s with the water?”

“I don’t know, someone must’ve come here after for something,” Sapnap frowns, points across the room to a chute leading upwards, filled with a crude spiral staircase of oak. “We’re going up there.”

George nods, letting him take the lead. The staircase is rickety, the bottom steps waterlogged; Sapnap grimaces the whole way up, makes some comment under his breath about how unsafe it all is, but they continue without much issue. The top of it is surprisingly unassuming - there’s really nothing around, just a small hollowed out space carpeted by savannah grass, shorn short. Sapnap tosses him a pickaxe.

“He respawned up here, that day - he’s gotta have a bed up here somewhere.” He gestures at the plain stone walls surrounding them, “My guess is that it’s just behind one of these walls. Just mine two or three blocks in all the way across, I’ll start from this side.”

“Whatever, Snapnap,” George takes the pickaxe anyway, walking over to the other side of the room and ignoring the protests Sapnap throws at his back. Mining the stone is simple, methodical; it’s a steady rhythm of the pick hitting stone and blocks falling into his inventory; if he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that they’re in the middle of a manhunt, and Dream has holed himself into the wall as he always does for them to find him. He doesn’t, because thinking about manhunt does nothing but make something cold and choking claw up his throat, almost like guilt, almost like regret, and he doesn’t have the energy for that in the slightest.

His next swing rings oddly hollow, and when the block drops neatly away the wall opens to a narrow corridor. He calls Sapnap over.

“Here.” Sapnap moves with large, heavy strides, face tightening into a foreign expression of grim determination when he catches the darkness behind the one-block hole George mined, “I found it.”

“Well, obviously,” he rolls his eyes as he takes out the bottom block, looking at George from the corner of his eye. “Nice observation, genius.”

“Hey! You told me to find it, and I did, unlike you- you should be thanking me, Sapnap.”

“Whatever, Gogy,” Sapnap sighs, looking into the corridor, feet settling against the ground into a wide stance that George recognizes as the one he’d usually use in a fight. It makes something long-forgotten ache in his chest, joining the dull ball of hurt that has been there for what feels like months, “You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up, will you?” The retort rings hollow, dying on his lips even as he says it, and George watches as Sapnap turns his head away and pretends not to notice.

“Let’s go.”

The hallway is dark, dusty, a hastily made thing as shown by the rough gouges made on either side by a quickly working pickaxe. It opens into a tiny room, similarly carved into the mountain with roughhewn walls of stone; George’s lips thin and press against each other as he takes a closer look at the room, stepping in behind Sapnap.

“This place is a mess,” he states drily, scuffing his foot against the floor and cringing at the trail it leaves in the dust. There’s a bed left in the corner, a thin little thing with the covers thrown off, lying halfway on the floor, and a few chests and furnaces scattered aimlessly against the walls and making the whole thing look more cramped. There are papers strewn over the floor and chests, piles of coal and wood left to collect dust in the corners. It looks like a whirlwind swept through the place, and it’s almost eerie to see this room, completely untouched since the twentieth, a snapshot in time of Dream in the middle of his spiral into madness.

Sapnap kicks at one such pile with a humorless scoff, “That’s an understatement.”

“You looking for anything in particular?” George jabs his thumb at the mess in front of them, “Because I’m not cleaning all of that up.”

“I guess- just look through the chests?” Sapnap’s face darkens visibly even despite the dim lighting, and George stifles the urge to poke fun at how the younger clearly didn’t plan this far ahead, per usual. “Just look for anything useful, worth taking back I guess.”

“Mmhm.” He moves to the left-most chest as Sapnap moves to the right, watching from the corner of his eye as the other strikes up a torch to place in the middle of the room. The lid creaks open, and he rummages through the contents, vaguely surprised when his hand meets row after row of glass bottles. He pulls one out, squints at the contents. “Hey Sapnap, is this a regen?”

Sapnap looks over. “Yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes when George pockets it. “Seriously- you know Sam literally has an automatic potion brewer, right. You can just steal from that instead.”

“Or I could just steal from here,” he closes the lid, moving to the next chest. “That’s just his pots chest. He really stacked up, didn’t he?”

“Well, you know Dream. Always had to plan for the end of the world.” Sapnap closes the chest that he was hunched over, tossing over something in a flash of gold, “Was just his food chest. Don’t know why someone needs eight stacks of gapples, but whatever. We can split the god apples later.”

“Sure,” George nods, distracted as he fiddles with clasp of the next chest. This one, unlike the last, seems more worn over the bottom edge of the lid, the wood almost seeming to bear dents where fingers had pressed into the areas right by the clasp again and again. The lid eases open, and he frowns at the chest’s contents; there’s no rhyme or reason to them at first glance. There’s a half-stack of stone in the top left, a couple pieces of leather thrown in the bottom corner, a low-durability crossbow, unenchanted, that he briefly runs his hands over before throwing it back into the chest. He rummages through it for another second, about to dismiss it as a junk chest, when a well-worn book near the back of the chest catches his eye.

He pulls it towards him with careful hands, breath having caught in his throat. The cover is leather, scuffed and scratched in several places, not bearing the dull shine of a book that’s been signed and preserved magically. It doesn’t seem to be titled, no ink against the usual places on the front cover or spine, but the whole thing looks well-loved, the thread of the spine slightly frayed the leather heavily creased from where the cover had been eased open again and again.

He opens the front cover, and sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Sapnap? I think I found something.”

There, nestled between the front cover and the first page, lays a pile of photographs. Unlike everything else in the room, these are clearly well-loved, well-cared for, the corners are sharp, the surfaces shiny, despite how often they must have been thumbed through and looked at. He plucks the first one off the top of the pile - it’s one that was taken from the inside of the old community house before the floor was replaced with crafting tables, string lights hanging from the ceiling in an impromptu party, Alyssa’s legs dangling from where she’s sitting at the edge of the spiral staircase, Callahan leaning against the wall with a slice of cake held between his hands. Sapnap’s sitting in the middle of the floor across from himself, both of their faces glowing softly in the flickering light - his own face is caught in a grimace, Sapnap bent over himself in laughter- Sapnap walks up behind him, gasps at the sight.

“What are-”

George passes over the photo wordlessly as he moves to the next; there’s Sam, grinning at the camera with a newly tamed Fran by his side, tail a white blur against the green of the grass; Bad, hands clutched around a bucket as he yells at someone off the frame, a salmon head poking slightly out the top; Ponk, sitting proudly in the top branches of his first lemon tree.

His breath catches at the next; it’s dim, the sky a pretty blend of purple-pink from the last remaining dregs of light of a sunset, hovering over the dark edge of the ocean stretching out towards the horizon. They’re sitting in boats, the bottom edges lit softly from the coral sitting in the shallow waters below them, brilliant halos of reds and pinks and yellows and oranges and blues dotted with the soft lights of sea pickles painting the wood in muted rainbows. Sapnap’s smiling from one in the back, head tipped to the side cheekily, right hand lifted in a cocky two-fingered salute. George is sitting in the back of a boat in the foreground, glasses lifted to his forehead, eyes mid-roll even as he grins obligingly at the camera-

And then, in the front, there’s Dream.

His mask is pulled to the side of his face, exposing his freckled skin and brilliant green eyes; he’s smiling widely, all teeth, hair wet and sticking up in a ring of untamed swirls and spikes. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, cheeks red, arm stretched forward off-frame from where he’d held the camera in front of them to take the selfie. George’s thumb brushes over the photo, pressing lightly against the dusty mess of hair framing Dream’s face, pausing at the sight of his pure, unadulterated joy.

What had happened to them?

A soft, choked sound comes from behind him, and George tucks the photos away, pressing them between two random pages in the book. His eyes flicker to the book’s contents, finally, finding Dream’s familiar, looping scrawl written on the first page. The words are big and messy, all capitalized and underlined several times, the last four circled roughly.

REMEMBER WHY YOU’RE DOING THIS: ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY.

He snaps the book shut.

“George-”

“Let’s go home, Sapnap.” He throws one last look at the room, at the messy, desperate edges, the remnants of a man lost in his own reckless belief that he could build something beautiful out of blood and ash. He swallows, blinks back the image of a brilliant smile, freckled cheeks ruddy with laughter, at the golden glow of memories long-forgotten that threaten now to burn him with their warmth. He can imagine Dream, settled in the middle of this mess, pressing himself closer to the fire contained in these photographs, these memories, and not realizing how he’s being burned, can nearly see a ghost of him tucked in these shadowed corners, haunting the hopes that he had clung to against all reason with the promise that it could all be worth it.

Sapnap frowns at him tiredly, photos pressed against his own chest. “George,” he says, cautious, and George’s shoulders hunch defensively.

“Let’s go home,” he stands up, hearing more than seeing as Sapnap does the same. “Whatever closure you’re looking for- you’re not finding it here.”

[comfortwriting]

Privacy - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompt 48: He pressed his lips against yours, you kissed back and your hands tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt. 

Prompt 50: “shhh...” he whispered “be quiet, you don’t want your parents finding us”

Requested/About: The reader invites her boyfriend of over a year, Fred, to come over for dinner and to spend the night at her parents house as they are eager to meet him. Throughout his stay under her parents roof, Y/N and Fred become sexually frustrated due to their lack of intimacy; causing Fred to take matters into his own hands. 

Warnings: 18+! detailed smut, swearing, vulgar language, fingering, oral female receiving, penetrative sex, mention of food and eating. 

Y/D/N = your dads name, Y/M/N = your mums name (if like me, you have no parents, include whoever is your guardian or any names you like!)

Your dad finished up helping your mum cook dinner in the hazy kitchen, popping the trays into the oven and slamming the door shut before more air could escape into the already scorching room, you could tear the two of them giggling, chatting amongst themselves and dancing along to the radio.

Biting your lip and staring at your reflection in the mirror, you raised your tartan skirt, rolling it up so your upper thigh would get more notice, even if you were wearing sheer black tights underneath.

Dating Fred Weasley for over a year definitely has its perks - his family became your family, the burrow became your second home where you were welcome to stop by and stay over whenever you liked, Fred’s skiving Snack boxes helped you get out of things you didn’t want to do at work, and around the house, Fred is incredibly romantic, taking you out on the most fun dates around Diagon Alley, and your sex life... well, it’s nothing short of steamy or adventurous.

You could feel your heart flutter, the hairs standing up on the back of your neck, pacing around your bedroom you hurried over to your bed and straightened out the covers and brushing over the tiniest creases. You straightened your picture frames, you and Fred in fits of laughter in your hand-me-down robes and darted around the room doublechecking for the tiniest specks of dust.

“Y/N!” your mum called up, now standing at the bottom of the stairs “he’s walking up the driveway!”

Almost jumping out of your skin, you went back to the mirror and quickly fixed your hair one last time, checking how minty your breath was from the mouthwash and sprinted down the stairs, almost sliding down the last few steps.

Your dad walked out of the hazy kitchen and into the hallway, wrapping his arm around your mum's waist, chuckling at you going red in the face.

“Roll that skirt down!” Your dad called out, pointing at your tartan skirt.

“Oh leave her alone!” your mother defended you “she isn’t a kid anymore”

“you’d think she’s off to a concert dressed like that!”

“Please don’t embarrass me” you warned them quietly under your breath, your back facing the door, slowly and grudgingly pulling your skirt down by the smallest inch.

Y/D/N raised his eyebrows “You know we wouldn’t, but the rifle is under the stairs-”

Y/M/N slapped him playfully and tutted, scolding him “behave, will you!”

“Dad!”

Fred’s footsteps crumbled as he walked over the stones, standing in front of the door, and knocking three times.

You stood there and glared at your dad who kept nodding his head towards where he kept his rifle.

“Don’t you dare!” You hissed at him, starting to regret taking up your parents offer for this evening.

“Answer the bloody door then!”

You sighed and turned around, facing the large wooden front door, taking a deep breath, you opened it, coming face to face with the man of your dreams.

His windswept ginger hair made him look like he had fought against the wind whilst walking up the worlds steepest hill and his beautiful brown eyes twinkled as they poured into yours. His tartan jumper matching your skirt.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and brought them around the back of his neck, nuzzling your face into his warmth, the scent of fresh-baked bread and cinnamon engulfing you - making you wish you could apparate to the burrow without worrying your muggle parents.

“So you must be Fred Weasley” your father called out, letting go of your mother and walking towards Fred.

You and Fred pulled away from each other, you stood by his side, taking his bag and hanging it up on the peg beside the door next to your coat.

“Yes, sir” Fred replied, swallowing hard whilst trying to smile, holding out his hand.

Your father smiled and shook his hand “well, it’s lovely to meet you, Fred, I’m Y/D/N” he gestured over to your mother “and this is my wife, Y/M/N.”

After the slightly awkward, but better than expected introduction, Fred helped your father set the table and explaining the products he created and sells at his joke shop whilst you helped your mum plate up the food.

“He seems absolutely lovely!” your mum beamed, tipping more broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower onto the plates.

You smiled, picking up your plate and Fred’s “yeah, he’s amazing” you blushed “I love him.”

Following your mother into the dining room, you set Fred’s plate down on the placemat and then the same with yours next to him, your mother set the other two plates down and went back into the kitchen to fetch out the gravy and seasonings.

“If you allowed me to do magic the table would have been set within seconds” you huffed, as Fred pulled out your chair.

“When you live in your own house” your father started, sitting down “you can do what you like, but under this roof, you’ll be a - what's the word?” your father looked over at Fred.

“Uh, Muggle,” Fred replied, staring at your arse.

You sat down, Fred pushing in your chair before getting sat down, your mother finally placing everything on the table and opening a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for herself and her husband.

“ah, yes, but under this roof you’ll be a muggle like me and your mother” Your father lifted up his wine glass, thanking his wife and took a sip.

“I’m muggle-born” you sighed, picking up your knife and fork.

“Let’s not dive into this topic yet again!” your mother interrupted cheerfully, pouring gravy over her chicken.

Your father put down his glass of wine, licking the residue away that sat his lips “Fred” he lifted up the wine bottle “would you like a glass?”

Fred shook his head, cutting into the chicken and stabbing it with his fork “no thank you, I’m fine with my water” he smiled, taking a bite of his food.

Dinner went well, and again, better than expected. Fred laughed at your fathers terrible and cringe jokes whilst you and your mother pulled sour faces and reminded him about table manners, but Fred encouraged him even more, winning his approval.

Whilst your parents got caught up in their own discussions when resting, or with empty plates, you and Fred exchanged cheeky glances, his eyes travelling up your skirt which you made sure to roll back up before sitting down. Your hand sneakily rested on Fred’s thigh, slowly moving closer and closer to his crotch, making him almost choke on his sweetcorn and bash his knee under the table as he jolted.

“You’re a bloody tease” Fred muttered under his breath, helping you wash up “doing that to me and giving me a semi under the table.”

You smirked and placed the last plate on the drying rack, turning around to face him as you leaned against the kitchen worktops, the tiny puddles of soapy water that jumped out of the almost-overflowing sink seeped into the back of your skirt.

“I was only saying hello” you grinned, as Fred dried his hands and stood in front of you, placing his hands at either side of you, trapping you underneath him.

“Fancy giving me a speech?” he smirked back, his voice low.

You bit your lip and blushed, Fred leaned down to kiss you, his tongue dragging over your lips for entrance, making you both feel excited. Granting him access, your tongue and Fred’s fought for dominance, one of his hands now running up your inner thigh.

“Do you two need a hand?” Your mum called out, walking over to the kitchen door and opening it.

You quickly pushed Fred away from you and pulled the soapy, gravy cup off the drying wrack, scooping up water from the sink and throwing it over Fred, drenching him before he had a moment to realise what was happening.

The kitchen door swung open, warm, soapy water covered the kitchen floor and Fred’s jumper, your mother stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. Fred stood against the fridge, rubbing his eyes, you were stood sharing glances with both your mum and Fred whilst you gripped onto the gravy cup.

“Y/N! What have you done to the floor?! and look at Fred, he’s drenched!”

“We got carried away” Fred covered for you “I’m sorry Y/M/N, we’ll get it cleaned up.”

Y/M/N smiled and your boyfriend, calming down, “Oh don’t be silly! you don’t need to clean this mess” she replied sweetly “get that jumper off, I’ll pop it on the maiden to dry.”

Fred pulled off his wet tartan jumper, the butterflies inside of you fluttering around at the sight of his muscles busting through his short-sleeved t-shirt, you clamped your legs together at the knee.

Fred passed his jumper to your mum “thank you” he said softly.

“Get this cleaned up” your mother ordered “come into the living room with us Fred, a really good film is meant to be coming on at any minute now.” she walked out of the kitchen.

Fred followed behind slowly, piercing you with his eyes, “you’re in for it” he whispered, shutting the kitchen door behind him.

Biting your lip and sighing, you could feel the butterflies in your crotch, making you squeeze your legs together even tighter, swearing under your breath you grabbed the cloths and started to clean up.

Sitting between your dad and Fred, your eyes were glued to your boyfriend’s veiny arms and hands, he kept tensing and bunching his hands into fists on purpose, knowing you were watching and couldn’t do a thing about it. All the while, Fred continued to risk glances up your tartan skirt, getting a peek of your lace red thong.

Fred could feel his cock harden in his trousers, he shifted on the sofa and blocked his hard-on from view with his hands, noticing Fred hiding away, you also shuffled on the sofa which pulled back your skirt, exposing more of your inner thighs and your thong.

His eyes travelled up your legs with desperation and his breathing went got heavier, his cock getting even harder, his large length becoming harder to hide and painful to ignore, you smirked at him and focused on the television, not understanding the movie your parents were so hooked on.

“I think I’m going to call it a night” Fred announced quickly, almost stumbling over his words, standing up and retrieving his no longer wet but now damp jumper, which he used to cover up his hard-on.

“Yeah, me too” you forced a yawn, stretching out before standing up next to Fred and linking arms with him.

“Are you sure?” your dad protested “the film is nearly over”

Fred could feel his cock pulsate, he squeezed onto his jumper in frustration “I’m sure, too much telly can make us Wizards feel a bit dizzy” he lied, walking over to the door.

“Oh gosh!” your mum panicked, trying to get out of her seat, almost knocking over her wine glass “will you be alright-”

“I’ll look after him, he’ll be fine” you replied, pushing Fred through the door and out into the hallway “goodnight!”

Unlinking arms with Fred, you giggled and bolted up the stairs, Fred chasing after you and breaking into your bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, Fred threw his jumper onto your bed and leant against the door, his eyes staring you down as he walked over to you, backing you up against your study desk.

“I told you, you’re in for it” he growled.

Lifting you up and sitting you down on the desk, Fred spread your legs open with his hands, the veins in them bulging as he stood between them. He pressed his lips against yours, you kissed back and your hands tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt. Fred smirked against your lips and pulled off his t-shirt, giving you an eyeful of his muscles, his big, hard cock poking through his trousers.

Breaking away from the kiss, leaving your lips red and coated in his saliva, Fred started to undo his trousers and dropped them to the floor, standing out of them he kicked them across the floor, leaving him in his boxers and you still fully dressed. Fred sucked on his index and middle finger, spitting down them as he approached your wet cunt, his two wet fingers now sliding underneath your thong and brushing against your sensitive and swollen clit.

You gasped out and let a little airy moan spill from your lips, causing Fred to smirk and bite his lip, hooking your thong with his fingers as he dragged them down your legs and throwing them beside his trousers. Fred’s two fingers lined up against your tight hole and pushed inside of you, your cunt engulfing him in warmth and your walls tightening around his fingers.

His long fingers pumped inside and out of you, slow at first and then picking up in speed as you got used to him, you pulled off your top and dropped it on the floor, your breasts desperate to be let free from your matching lace, red bra. Your quiet moans and facial expressions encouraged Fred to pull down his boxers with his free hand and take hold of his hard cock at the base of his shaft, as he started to pump his cock, the built-up precum spilling out onto the head.

Fred licked his soft lips and dived down in between your legs and under your skirt, continuing to finger fuck you, Fred stuck out his tongue and swirled it around your clit in circular motions, sucking on it every now and then before licking in a different direction - this time slowly dragging his tongue up and down as you came undone.

The feeling of his fingers stretching you out as he added a third finger and his tongue exploring you sent waves of pleasure down your spine and expanded throughout your insides, your moans continued to spill from your delicate, kiss hungry lips, louder and louder.

Fred groaned against your pussy, the vibrations from his voice pushing you closer to the edge.

“Freddie!” You yelped out in pleasure, lolling your head back and scrunching your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of his long fingers and wet tongue.

Fred pulled away and stopped eating your cunt, causing you to open your eyes and look down at his head and eyes peeking up from under your tartan skirt which you wanted nothing more than to rip off.

“Shhh...” he whispered “be quiet, you don’t want your parents finding us”

“mph” you moaned softly “but I want you so bad, Freddie, we can put a silencing charm on the-”

Fred withdrew his fingers, making you feel empty and sucked your juices off his fingers, he stood up and lifted you in his arms, walking you over to the bed, laying you down gently, climbing on top of you.

“You know we’re not allowed to do magic under this roof, sweetheart” Fred reminded you, his voice low and deep, his soft lips peppering your neck with kisses whilst his hands sneaked around your back, unclipping your bra.

“I promise I’ll be quiet” you whispered, looking over to the door as Fred pulled off your bra, your hands now pulling down your skirt, Fred dragging it down your legs and tossing it on the floor.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep” Fred smirked, continuing to touch himself over the sight of your wet cunt.

You pulled out a condom you hid under your pillow earlier in the day, handing it to Fred so he could put it on as you grabbed the lube. Fred rolled the condom over his large length, squeezing away the bubble at the tip of his cock.

You squeezed out the lube into the palm of your hand and across your four fingers, spreading it all over Fred’s length as you took him in your hand, toying with him gently before you pulled your hand away and spread the excess lube across your entrance, fingering yourself teasingly, watching your boyfriend thirst for you.

Fred got on his knees and beckoned you over to him with his two fingers, you crawled over to him as he held onto your waist as you sat down slowly on his large length, your mouth forming an O shape, moans escaping your lips and his. Fred spread his knees apart and slowly placed both of your legs on his shoulders, so the back of your thighs were against his chest, his hard cock pushing deeper inside of you - his hands holding you over your ribs just above your waist.

“I’m so fucking deep inside you” he groaned, his cock brushing against your G-Spot.

You nodded and moaned out as he started to buck his hips and bounce up and down on your bed, “I can feel you in my tummy, Freddie.”

“Good, that’s my baby girl.” he grunted.

Continuing to bounce and buck his hips, Fred’s cock slid deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting your G-Spot over and over, your quiet moans flowing from your mouth like water from the kitchen tap. Your ample breasts bouncing up and down, your hair tousled like Fred’s, the veins in his body looking like bolts of lightning.

The very sight of him edged you closer and closer to reaching the beginning of your climax, your walls continuing to tighten around Fred’s pulsating cock, squeezing him whilst he stretched you out, your lower abdomen starting to tense up.

“The sight of you makes me want to cum” Fred grunted again, beads of sweat across his forehead and chest glistened in the moonlight that pierced through your bedroom window.

Your cheeks were red and hot, your legs rattling on his shoulders, your toes curling, your head lolling back, exposing your soft neck.

“I’m getting close” you breathed out softly, biting down on your lip to restrict your moans from becoming too loud, hearing footsteps pass outside your door.

Fred stopped for a moment, waiting for your parent's footsteps to die down as they went to bed, you whined at your orgasm slowly drift away from you, until as soon as your parent’s bedroom door closed, Fred, started to pound you, fast, deep, and hard.

“Fucking cum for me, Y/N” Fred panted “I can feel myself getting close too.”

The sound of Fred slamming into you filled your bedroom, his groans and your moans pushing one another closer and closer to the edge, your walls clamping around Fred’s cock so unbelievably tight causing him to twitch inside of you - his fingernails digging into your sides whilst you left scratches down his strong arms.

The pressure building up and suddenly bursting, Fred’s name escaping your mouth quite loudly as your cum gushed down his length, Fred’s sperm shot into the tip of the condom as he thrust himself deep inside of you, his cum pooling slowly into a puddle.

Both of your chests elevating and deflating with mismatched panting and gasping for breath, Fred slowly helped you get your legs off his shoulders and slowly pulled out, laying you down against the cool bedsheets before taking off and binning his filled condom.

Laying down next to you, both of you drenched in sweat, feeling as if you had completed a marathon, he reached out for your shaky hand, holding it in his as he planted a kiss against it.

“I think it’s funny that” Fred spoke out slowly, catching his breath “it’s easier for us to have sex at mine when the home is full of family, and friends”

You broke out into a light laugh and shook your head “yeah” you replied, breathless, “muggle parents are cock blocks”

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @lucymfer @freddiemylovelg @xmalfoyweasleyx @escapingrealitybyreading 

[spitpr1ncess]

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

-

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

-

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

-

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

-

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

[yandere-society]

The Watcher

Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

Synopsis: You were supposed to be living your dream life… One where you would be able to start a happy family with your partner but instead here you were - sleep deprived and terrified of the very own walls you once called home. All because of him - he who haunted you day and night, he who surrounded the hidden corners of your mind. He, who called himself: ‘The Watcher.’

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Suicide mention, Abusive relationship, Mentions of mental illness 

Headline: Couple Flee Dream Home After Threats From “The Watcher”

Admin: @roses-ruby​

_

“Are you sure on the color? I didn’t know you liked green at all.”

“Yeah,” You reply casually, taking a mug out from the moving box. There was a paper wrapped around the mug for glass protection – one you discarded back into the package before placing the cup on the marbled counter. The kitchen window didn’t have curtains yet, which let warm sunlight pour into the room and light up the whole area. “It’s a really soft green. I think it’s optimistic.”

Your husband scoffs playfully as you walk over to the coffee maker. You had just moved in yesterday so your dream house – ready to be filled with everything you’ve cultivated throughout the years – only contained a mass of unloaded belongings. Yet still, nothing could beat the simple contentment of just existing in the exact place you’ve always wanted.

“I’m so happy to be here.”

“Well, I’m glad someone is.” Taehyung interrupts your wonder.

You stare at him with an eyebrow raised, grabbing the coffee pot, “Another letter?”

“Yup, the fourth one.” He sighs, “These neighborhood kids you know…they’re kinda creepy…”

Ever since you moved in you’ve been receiving odd, unmarked envelopes with strangely worded letters inside. They contained weird riddles and vague threats but neither of you were alarmed, deducing that the neighboring children were playing a prank on the newbies. Stranger things have happened, right? Perhaps you were both fools still in the honeymoon phase, too excited about your first month of marriage and future life to be brought down by such shenanigans.

“Oh, they’ll stop eventually. What was it this time though?”

“Something about the works of Jean-Paul Sartre or something-”

As soon as you heard the name, you froze in your tracks with the coffee pot hanging over the blue mug. Jean-Paul Sartre? No, it couldn’t be. It had to be a coincidence. Your husband seemed to be saying something in the background, but your brain was too blurred to listen. There was no way it was him. Even if there has only ever been one man you’ve encountered who was in love with the French philosopher as much as you were. It’s not him – not after 6 years. Not him.

“___?” His soft voice fills your ears, “___, I won’t let you go. You’re mine, now and forever-”

“___?” You suddenly feel someone grab your arm, snapping you out of your nightmare as you come face to face with your husband.

“…Huh?”

“Are you alright, ___? You look a little pale.” He asks, with concern lacing his features.

“I…I’m fine…I’m alright Taehyung…you know just…with the move and all…I’m tired…sorry…” You stutter out a response which he obviously didn’t believe. The more you gaze into his orbs, the more frightened you feel. Instead of easing his worry, your mind was only thinking of one thing: this can’t happen again, not again. Deciding that you didn’t want to be interrogated further, you move away from him, turning around and changing the subject.

“So…I’ll grab the paints today-”

“I’ll do it,” He interrupts, “If you’re tired you should go lie down.”

He walks past you, out of the room and a minute later you hear the front door open and shut. You just stand there – like a fool, wishing you could stop this feeling of fear and remorse from paralyzing you. Everything was going so well and then you had to go and ruin it by bringing him back into your conscience. Clenching your fist tight, you begin to cry, loathing yourself the most in that moment. This is what always happens to you when it concerns him and it’s why you don’t want him to come back into your life.

Please, not him.

_

“It does look optimistic!”

“Like a field of grass in front of a farmer!”

“Ugh, again?” You groan at your husband’s habit of cringe-inducing analogies.

“Oh, come on they’re cute!” He says, wrapping his arms around you as you laugh. The wall paint had finally dried and the soft green had settled nicely along with your furniture that you both had exhaustingly positioned in place. While you were playfully wrestling each other in the living room, you heard a small rustle of paper from the front door indicating the arrival of mail.

“I’ll get it!” You shout, removing his large limbs from you.

He chases you to the front door, tickling you as you pick up the fallen mail and begin to scour through the bills and ads for something important over a fit of laughter. The amusement and hustling came to a halt once you found another blank envelope in between your fingers. No one made a sound, already knowing who the sender would be.

“I’ll throw it out…” You hear the anger in your husband’s tone as he holds out his hand.

But rather than giving him the envelope, something inside of you encourages you to open it and take out the letter inside. There was a heavy, malevolent lull that surrounded the atmosphere as you began to read its contents.

“Dear ___, so divine.

I can’t stop running until you’re mine.

I keep this leash for the sake of peace,

and I’ll bite my tongue until blood fills my lung.

But Dear ___, so divine.

You should know that you’ll be mine.

I’ll watch you sleep and torch your wings

Until you’re wearing my wedding ring.

Sincerely, The Watcher.

“…What the fuck…” You could hear the horror in Taehyung’s voice. “How does he know your name?”

Because it’s him. Of course it is.

“It’s…nothing,” You say absentmindedly, laughing as you place the letter back in the envelope with trembling digits, “Just kids… playing a prank…”

“This is not the work of ‘some kids!’ It’s obviously a psychopath!” He yells in panic

“Don’t…” You mutter, an abrupt beating in your brain, “Don’t raise your voice, Tae.”

“But __-”

“I said it’s the fucking kids, didn’t I?” You grit in his face with your eyebrows furrowed.

He gapes at you for a second, his face a mix of confusion and shock, before he takes a step back. Taehyung didn’t understand why you were upset and he wanted to argue but then he saw the color leave your face.

You were staring straight at him, until you couldn’t anymore. The walls that were so beloved a minute ago now came closing in on you. Your breathing became hoarse and you took in large amounts of air to compensate up till the point where you couldn’t perceive clearly.

“___?” Your husband, a mere black silhouette, shook your arms as you began to bend over.

You panted as hard as you could, but you weren’t able to breathe and started to choke on your own spit. His image was lodging itself throughout your mind and the tears that crept out of your eye sockets felt like stones. This is exactly what you were afraid of, this is exactly why you didn’t want to believe it was him.

“Slowly baby! Breath slowly! Calm down!” His speech became foggy as your vision began to fade.

“H…seok-”

And then it was all black.

You woke up with a gasp, the image of a white ceiling sticking to your eyes. Did you pass out?

“Are you okay?” You hear your husband and turn your face to see him sitting on the floor next to you, who laid on the sofa. His face was downcast, hand holding onto you tightly as you slowly recalled everything that happened before you fainted.

“Yeah…I’m fine…”

Taehyung’s expression brought back that feeling again. That traitorous fear, that immense guilt. He deserved none of it and you hated yourself for making him worry. Countless times – you told yourself that you were over him and you could now wholeheartedly move on with your husband. But it seems like that was nothing but your own deceitfulness.

How did he even find you? What did he want from you now after six whole years? You try to sit up, wanting to feel as complete as you did before the wretched moment this afternoon.

“Tae…a-about the letter-”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t worry about that.” He smiles, helping you up by placing his hand against the small of your back, “…Just like you said, a prank, right?”

Taehyung, a man so usually stubborn – there was something off about his stance that you couldn’t pinpoint. But whatever it was, you were fine with it as long as it meant that you wouldn’t have to confront that. So, with a tense smile, you lie through your teeth.

“Y…yeah.”

And maybe this was your own undoing, but in that very second, when he gives you a beaming grin, you laugh. A bolder of pressure releasing from your shoulders. It’s alright, this was still your house and you were still safe here. Away from him.

You don’t notice Tae’s face falling as soon as you looked away.

_

When you woke up again, it had already been a month.

A month of living in your dream home with the dream life you’ve always wanted. Nothing could make you happier. You leave the bed and wander into the hall to remind yourself that this was real – that this serene place really existed, and you were going to start your new married life here. Placing your hand against the painted green wall, you marvel at the beautiful blend of colors and textures.

You found yourself searching for your husband around the large house you got to call a home. It had been your goal since long ago to own a place like this. Of course, back then you had desired the commitment with your then boyfriend, Hoseok.

In that instant you stop walking. Hoseok. It’s been a long time since you’ve recalled that man and hadn’t withdrawn in apprehension. He was a happy man, the Hoseok that everyone loved. A handsome man that was always glowing with a bright ball energy, he was everyone’s friend…a mood maker. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t love him. But the Hoseok you knew – your Hoseok was a monster.

A monster hell bent on possessing you.

Everyone adored him, but he only loved you. You were so delighted that he did, so overcome with joy that you hadn’t realized then that his fondness came with many setbacks. He made you laugh, he made you cry, but mostly, he made you feel love in a way you didn’t think was possible. Blame it on your youth – you were too wrapped up in the idea of Hoseok’s affection to understand that it wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t normal.

So, you overlooked his possessive nature and his jealousy and his anger. But your body didn’t. Your skin still held scars he cultivated through nights of sexual torture. Your ears still remember the words he used to berate you. Wounds you used to adore left you with raw shame after he discarded you. So much shame, that you couldn’t even think about him or your relationship with him without utter dread grabbing at your bones. However, it didn’t matter much anymore. You were no longer a young girl desperate for his approval… you were an adult – a woman who fell in love and got married to the only man she’ll ever need.

He won’t be able to possess you ever again; he was a monster. You’re so thankful that he hadn’t sent another letter for a while now, although his silence was a tad unnerving.

The door you stood in front of creaked suddenly, catching your attention. It was then that you realized you had ended up in front of your husband’s home office. That’s right, you were looking for your husband. A much kinder and sane person.

With a smile, you push open the door to be greeted with a large, soundless room. Your smile disappears as you spot the mess of papers on your husband’s desk. They were littered everywhere, covering the whole table while some fell onto the chair and the floor. You never knew that a messy pile of papers could look so menacing. The beating of your heart grew louder as you stepped closer to the desk.

You pick up a letter, then another – then many more as horror starts to fill your lungs. More poems and threats – all of them scattered in erratic handwriting that spelled insanity. All of them signed, ‘The Watcher.’ Had it gotten this bad? But when? How? Your husband hadn’t told you about any of this.

Your eyes land on a particular letter and you begin to read it against your own will. It wasn’t addressed to anyone, the only one that directly contained your name was the divine poem. Still, you knew if it was from him, then it was for you.

Do you remember when we used to visit that bistro across the street from your dorms? How cold it was that one night, and you hated the cold so I held your hand in mine to keep you warm. Your whole body was a chill and I took pride in heating every inch of your heart. I could watch you for hours on end, and never bore. I loved you dearly, only you. That’s why I’ll watch you for a thousand nights and love you for a thousand more.

Sincerely, The Watcher.

The bistro…you vaguely remember that place. Two college students barging in half high and so annoyingly in love. Hoseok would get so upset when you made eye contact with other male customers and sometimes, he would pick fights with them. Take them behind an alley and return all black and blue.

“I won.” He’d say with a grin while you cried your eyes out, wondering what was wrong with him but being too devoted to his smile to actually care.

“Why…why now…” You muffled in a painful voice.

Suddenly you heard the sound of words being spoken in the distance. It came from downstairs, somewhere near the front door. You gradually moved towards the voice, not wanting to be alone with your thoughts. Once you were in the living room, you stopped and hid halfway between a wall, spotting your husband talking to a man in a suit.

“I just…don’t know detective…”

Detective? He called the police?

“The letters, they’re deranged…and they’re just getting worse I’m- I’m afraid for me and my wife…I don’t know what to do…”

“Well, I can tell you to not worry too much.” The older gentleman replied in a gruff voice, “Whoever this is hasn’t done anything but send letters, so it seems like he’s just playing with you. I’ll have someone patrolling the block for a while, and we’ll be the ones receiving your mail before you do for now. I’ll be back to collect those letters and…we’ll catch this jerk in a matter of days, I’m sure.”

It seems like this case doesn’t interest him much.

“Th-thank you officer I just…worry about my wife she’s…she was so happy here and then…ever since we started getting these damned letters- that freak even knows her name-”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to question her? Perhaps she knows who this person is.”

“No. I don’t think it will be good for her at all. Last time she read a letter, she had a panic attack… they really upset her, so please…she can’t know of any more.”

“Alright…we’ll see what we can do for now and I’ll follow up in a couple of days…”

“Thank you so much officer-”

Their voices begin to blend into the background as you turned around so that your back was against the wall you hid with. You were finally, finally starting to be happy…truly happy so why? Why would he come back and threaten everything you’ve grown to hold dear? Anger and pain were swimming in your heart. Wasn’t he the one who left you behind? What did he want from you now?

“Why now…Hoseok…”

_

Two and a half months.

Two and a half months of acting awkward and silent around one another. You sigh, sitting in your car and bracing yourself before you walk through your front door. A month ago, coming home from work was comforting, but now it just felt drawn out and agonizing. Both of you were hiding secrets, and you both simmered in guilt because of it. But it wasn’t any of his fault; it was all yours.

You, who couldn’t get over that damn bastard that left you all those years ago.

Taehyung had always been so kind to you, and you who came out of such a torturous relationship appreciated that more than anything. Yet the thought of him finding out about Hoseok – about everything you let Hoseok do to you was mortifying. Would he, who treats you with so much care, think of you the same after he’s known the truth? It’s why you could never tell him.

You’re not sure if there had been any new letters, since the police was sorting through your mail before it came back to you. But deep down inside, in a secret place, you wanted to see what Hoseok had to say. If he was still reaching out to you, if he was still watching you. With one last breathe, you open the car door and step down, ready to trudge back into your room and forget these thoughts. 

Yet suddenly, when you were a few feet from your front door, you hear someone call out your name.

It was a lady, short bobbed hair - someone you knew you’ve seen before. She held a microphone in her hand and there was a man with a camera chasing her. There were many others with similar mics and cams rushing towards you with an eager look in their hungry eyes.

Your heart drops once you realize who they were. Reporters.

A whole group of them.

“Ms. ___, how long have you been receiving these letters now?”

“Is it true that this Watcher is from a previous affair you had behind your husband’s back?”

“Is he just some stalker?”

“How does he know your name? How do you feel about him knowing your name?”

“Are you and your husband sleeping in separate rooms?”

You started to speed towards your door as they all surrounded you, bombarding you with personal questions. Most of them kept saying your name over and over while shoving their devices in your face. So many thoughts ran across your mind but at the moment you were in no position to think calmly. Holding your breath, you managed to make it to the front door and took out your key. There was a slight struggle between you and the lock which they all saw, but still kept hounding on you.

Another panic attack was coming up, you could feel it. It seems like the police has been nothing but incompetent and now your private situation was to become a media debacle. You tried hard to concentrate on opening the door amidst the frenzy. Finally, you were able to make it safely inside and slam the door shut behind, with wild pants leaving your lips.

Your husband heard the noise and rushed from the kitchen to where you stood with a stupid look on his face.

“__-”

“Why are there reporters?”

“What?”

“WHY ARE THERE REPORTERS IN MY DRIVEWAY ASKING ME ABOUT THE FUCKING LETTERS?”

“I-I-I don’t-”

“Who did you tell?” You sneer

“I…I didn’t…just the police I promise!” He genuinely seemed shocked, to which you groaned. His expression became fearful, “You don’t think…that the police…”

“Well someone had to leak it!” Falling onto your knees, you place your head in your hands.

You thought you could come home, that once you came home this headache would end, but it was the loudest when you were in here. All you wanted was to fucking breathe – not hide in your house behind closed curtains, afraid and embarrassed to death with this loud pounding in your brain.

“___...” Taehyung steps close to you, and it seemed like he wanted to take you in his arms.

“Don’t touch me!” You shout, making him flinch. “…don’t touch me…”

You were yelling but it was not out of anger. This was all your fault – everything was your fault and you felt nothing but disgust for yourself. Taehyung shouldn’t touch you or he’d become dirty too. For a moment you thought about telling him everything until your eyes caught something behind him.

All the noise outside only subsided once you zeroed in on an envelope slightly sticking out of the antique dresser drawer in your entrance hallway.

“How did that get there?” You slowly lift your hand to point towards it.

Taehyung follows your finger to the antique drawer, and you see the shock form on his face. All the letters were supposed to arrive in the mail which is filtered by the police so how did that get in here?

Was that man…

Was Hoseok in your house?

With a gulp, you stand up and walk closer to the drawer. You look over at Taehyung once you were standing in front of it, and he seemed defeated. Both by this cursed house and the mysterious man watching over it. Closing your eyes, you open the drawer and retrieve the envelope. Falling to the floor once you see that it’s blank again, with a single letter inside.

“I’ll watch you forever.”

Sincerely, The Watcher.

_

“Honey, the truck’s almost packed.”

“Yeah, just a minute.” You sing-song, staring at the mug you were about to place into the moving box. A strained smile stretches across your face as you think back to three months ago when you were unpacking all your little gadgets and trinkets, ready to settle into this house you once called home. That was a dream and like most dreams, it didn’t last too long. This place was now just a cause of your despair, it made you miserable.

After many sleepless night and restless days, you had decided to move out and try a start a new life somewhere else. Hopefully a place that could put you to ease - one that Hoseok could never reach. Taehyung wanted to move further north, which made you happy because you loved the cold.

Wait…you loved the cold? That’s not right, is it?

Also, it’s not like Hoseok could actually follow you. Because he…wait…how was it that he left you again? You know he left you – you keep repeating it to yourself, but you don’t remember him ever breaking up with you. He never really ‘physically’ broke up with you, did he?

There it was yet again. A loud obscurity corrupting your brain.

When suddenly, a realization comes over you.

Your head whirls towards the box you hovered over. You place the mug on the floor and begin to scrummage through the old box, searching for something specific. Glass protection. Once you feel the crinkly skin of paper, you take it out and smooth it over. The pounding in your head was back, and it was the strongest it has ever been.

Just as you thought, the paper had the familiar ink scribbles of an odd poem. It was a letter. Signed by The Watcher.

How could this be?

This paper was inside the box – you had used it for packing way before you ever stepped foot into this house. Yet for some reason, you can’t recall getting a letter from The Watcher before you moved in here. For a minute nothing made sense to you. It just felt like your conscious was off floating somewhere.

And then you looked up at the painted wall.

“I didn’t know you liked green at all.”

That’s because you don’t. No, of course you don’t, you like blue.

The one who likes green is-

A loud gasp leaves you as your behind makes contact with the floor. Every single thing comes crashing down at once, all the dots start to connect.

Hoseok likes green. Hoseok likes the cold.

Hoseok is…Hoseok is….

He’s dead.

He took his own life 6 years ago… he left you behind. It wasn’t him that’s been writing those letters-

“It was me.”

You forgot. No, you made yourself forget. Because there was no other way for you to cope. Instead of facing the truth, you repressed the memory of his death and then you began to haunt yourself using his image. Hoseok was a domineering force in your life and after possessing every inch of you till the point that there wasn’t a you without him, your mind was unable to comprehend his sudden departure. Tears began to roll down your face as you started to remember it all. Every moment you became ‘him’ and wrote those letters to yourself. You’ve done so for six whole years.

The reason why you’ve never evoked this before just now was the same reason as to why your trauma never became a problem for you until you moved into this house. It was because you just got married. Your mind had become fragile since his death, so shortly after writing and ‘mailing’ yourself these letters for comfort, you would read them and forget with ease, thanks to your isolation. But now that Taehyung was here – now that you were living with him, he became a witness to those letters and therefore gave them an ‘existence.’

He brought Hoseok back to ‘life’ in your brain.

It all made sense now. The headaches and the unbearable pain. You always knew there was something off but could never remember why. All those moments where you were scared of Hoseok, but never afraid of him showing up. Every time you pondered on the consequences of his being, rather than worry about him as a person at all. Only now, you’ve finally put the missing puzzle pieces together. Hoseok wasn’t watching you anymore…he couldn’t.

It was you, The Watcher.

You were the one keeping the monster alive. And you were the only one who could conclusively end him.

“___?” You hear the small, scared voice of your husband from the back. It seems like he heard your cries.

With a quick exhale, you turn around to face him. Looking at him straight in the eyes without any fear for the very first time. Your Tae, who deserved the truth no matter the cost.

“Taehyung…I have something I need to tell you.”

[ri-ahhh]

for the win

After dealing with a lifetime of insecurities, Winnie Walker finally gets the courage to pursue her dreams, with a few bumps along the way. But that confidence may not carry over when it comes to a certain hazel-eyed football player who’s had her attention for much too long.

A/N: this was a random inspo that hit me out of nowhere a while ago and I was gonna make it an epic oneshot, but I think I’ll just break it into parts instead. So, hence, this is part one. Hopefully you like it enough for it to be even worth posting more.

warnings: none yet, other than this is def gonna be as cheesy as you think it is

***

Winnie Walker has always considered herself an enigma. Not in that annoying, ‘I’m so cute and quirky’ type of way, but rather in the way that made her someone who never quite fit into one defined space. The kind perfected by years of self doubt, an emotionally distant mother, and the random ebb and flow of confidences and insecurities that always helps her remember that she is, in fact, perfectly un-extraordinary: her face is too round, but she’s always been called pretty; her personality is dry enough that she finds it challenging making female friends, but she fits in well with the boys; and she has a penchant for being the last one to talk about anything she might be feeling until she puts a pen to paper and speaks through the mouths of others.

Sports and writing were her main passions, but it still took until her senior year of high school to decide that she wanted to be a sports journalist. Not just a journalist, though -- more than anything, she dreamed of stepping out into the light as a broadcaster. Shy by nature but an athlete at heart, it once again put her in that enigmatic grey space where she wasn’t sure what the hell she was thinking.

But it’s what her heart was calling for her to do. For the first time in her life, Winnie Walker felt sure about something despite everyone’s doubts -- including her own. She grew up an athlete, and some of her fondest memories as a child were caught between either being in her dad’s man cave with all of his friends, cheering on their team of choice for whatever sport was on, discussing heatedly what plays should or shouldn’t have taken place. Or, on the volleyball court. 

The full ride offer from USC that was presented but never came to fruition because of a devastating knee injury in one of her last club tournaments haunted Winnie in the months leading up to her high school graduation. 

Her mother, Dahlia, was not-so-secretly thrilled. A stage mother through and through, she had always supported her daughter as she made headway in her sport as a star player, but it was an open point of contention that Winnie planned to follow her passion for it all the way to college. She wanted her middle daughter to attend the local university, get a nice marketing degree, and settle into a high rise in downtown Dallas, where she could point at during brunch with her friends and brag about the pretty penny her kid made with her perfectly nice degree she attained in her perfectly nice hometown. 

That’s not Winnie, though, and everyone except Dahlia knew it. No one was all too surprised that she still wanted to escape to California (again, except her mother), even if they were slightly shocked about her decision for a major. The reactions from her friends and sisters and dad had her even more excited as she scanned the email of her academic acceptance into USC. It finally gave her the courage to spill the beans to her mother as well.

Dahlia Walker very much scoffed in the face of her quiet, introverted, hopeful daughter sitting across the kitchen island while she scrubbed at the dishes from dinner.

“Winona, sweetie, you refused to even speak at your sister’s wedding as the maid of honor, and you want to be on TV? With all those... men?”

Winnie cringed a little bit and rolled her eyes at the slightly far-off look on her mother’s face as she no doubt started imagining the sweaty athletes the reporters would stand next to post-game.

“You don’t think I could do it?” she asked flatly, flicking a chip of her nail polish off her finger so it flew across the otherwise spotless granite — her mom hated when she did that. 

Dahlia’s hands picked up their pace again in the suds, slowed down by whatever middle-aged fantasy was going on in her mind. She shook her head, the highlights in her perfectly styled blonde bob shifting under the recessed lights.

“The girls who do that are just so bouncy. Friendly. They curl their hair.”

Winnie bit her lip. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Her body felt deflated. “I knew I could count on you to be supportive.”

“Oh honey, I’m just trying to be realistic with you,” her mother said dismissively. Like she didn’t realize the pang her words caused to spread in Winnie’s chest; it should have been be all-too familiar by then, but the sting was never weakened with age or predictability. “And California? Are you really ready to be so far from home? You hardly ever even leave your room.”

It had taken everything in Winnie to hold back the open scoff she longed to throw at her mother; instead, she just stood up and left the kitchen, along with any childish hope that Dahlia might ever make an effort to really know her middle daughter.

Because anyone that knew Winona Elle Walker could predict just how much she would thrive in California. In the persistent sunshine that never quite reached the peak of being too hot for very long, unlike the nearly six months of 90 and 100-plus degree days of summer she knew so well in Texas. Within close proximity to a beach that didn’t have swamp-colored water washing ashore.

In a place well over a thousand miles away from Dahlia.

And that’s exactly how Winnie found herself in LA: thriving. She made friends easily, enjoyed life on the USC campus while she studied the exact major she had set out for the first day she sat down in her first class -- Navigating News in the Digital Age class -- and it was a relatively cheap flight home if she ever missed it too much. Winnie started feeling less like an enigma, and more like someone whose quirks were becoming more of a benefit to her success than she could have ever imagined.

Now, as a woman in her senior year, nearly 22 and set to graduate in only a few months time, she’s finally up for the most coveted position in her major: being the prime time student reporter at the biggest sporting events of the school’s entire athletic program — the Trojan football games. Reporting at football games was a job always reserved for seniors, and she had been driving her roommate — and best friend in California — Naomi crazy all summer prepping for the spot’s audition.

“Winnie, babe, you know the plays backwards and forwards. You’ve understood more about the rules of football since you were a kid than I’ll ever know as a grown woman. You have all the key players’ and coaches’ names and numbers memorized. You couldn’t be any more prepared,” she smiles, good-natured irritation clear in her eyes and behind the blinding smile that shone from her mocha-colored skin.

It softens some when Winnie stood from the couch, and Naomi reaches over and slaps her retreating ass just hard enough to make Winnie yelp and giggle. “Not to mention those squats are paying off big time, bitch. You’re gonna kill it.”

Winnie rolls her eyes and continues to make her way to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “The camera won’t see my ass, but thanks.”

Naomi winks. “No. But Grayson Dolan might.”

Grayson Dolan — the walk-on that had stunned everyone when he was thrown into a game his freshman year after two of the starting tight ends had become injured on two consecutive plays. Now a senior himself, he’s led the team ever since in receiving yards, receptions, and TD’s, and is a clear prospect for the NFL in the coming months.

He also happens to be the player Winnie had drunkenly admitted she had a crush on during a girls night last year, and her friends have yet to let her live it down. She had felt ridiculous saying she had a crush as a 21 year-old, but that’s really all it was; he was hot, an extremely talented player, and she barely knew him beyond that one time he had spilled a drink on her at a frat party, and the rather interesting reputation that followed him around campus. There was nothing more to it.

Even if her attraction to him hasn’t died down in the passing time.

Winnie only blushes and pours herself a little extra, blaming the Maison No. 9 when Naomi throws her head back with a cackle and calls out the matching pink in her cheeks.

The morning of her audition, a mere two weeks into her fall semester, Winnie has butterflies fluttering madly in the pit of her belly. Her truer nature of being somewhat shy and timid in these situations has never left, always flaring up in moments of self-doubt and unpredictability. Undoubtedly, however, this audition deserves all the nerves; it’s a clear stepping stone into network broadcasting, and would almost guarantee her a spot as an intern at FOX Sports next semester.

She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, silently urging herself to get her shit together, and takes a deep breath before eyeing Naomi’s curling iron plugged in by the sink adjacent to her own.

Winnie hasn’t curled her hair once in the nearly four years she’d been in LA. Not for nights out, or auditions, or even a date. A brief moment of madness overtakes her as she stands there staring at the metal device, her hand starting to reach out as words that should be long forgotten ring loud and clear in her head. For a second, the pale beige paint of her apartment bathroom turns the light blue and grey color scheme of her childhood one. Her mom had ‘surprised’ her with the the renovation one year when she decided to redecorate the house while Winnie was at volleyball camp, insisting she had chosen Winnie’s favorite colors, when in reality it simply matched the rest of the monotone suburban house that Winnie secretly couldn’t stand. It was boring, and typical, and...stuck, despite its relative newness.

With that, the fog clears as quickly as it had come, and she sets her jaw determinedly. She hasn’t let Dahlia psych her out for this long; she isn’t about to let now be the first time since she’s been out here on her own.

And maybe Naomi was right. Maybe she’d catch a certain tight end’s eye with a tight end of her own, after all.

The nausea suddenly returns as she shakes her head and reaches for her straightener instead, flicking it on before sectioning off her hair.

“No wonder you’re so fucking single, Win.”

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jiminx Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 17.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings In This Chapter: Mentions of Mafia Heists, Cocaine Transport, Jimin Being A Psycho, Idiots Breaking Y/N’s Expensive Things

A/N: Man do I love my power couple. Shout out to my forever squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia.

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills, @kim-ji-hyeons-world, @jikooksgirl19, @yoong-i, @ruinsofangels, @absolutefantrash, @chiminies-noona, @eclectically-esoteric, @simplybree, @outrofenty, @yxnxxli​

“But Mommy I don’t want to go stay at Aunt Hyunah’s house! I want to stay with baby!” Hawon whines as she clutches on to your leg. 

Your heart strings tug at her words as you stand in the entryway of the house. The way her small hands clutch onto your dress earns softened eyes from your husband as he stands at your side. 

The silver cross is purchased between his teeth as he feels at the back of his waistband for his gun. It’s becoming a habit he can’t seem to break. 

With a pout, you crouch down to your daughter’s height as you brush some stray baby hairs off of her forehead.

“I know you do but in a few days it will all be over and you’ll be able to see the baby all the time, okay?” You ask her softly as she wraps her arms around your neck.

Burying her face into the crook of your neck, she nods solemnly as she hugs you.

“That’s a good girl.” You whisper, pulling back and pressing your lips to her forehead. 

Jimin checks his Rolex before petting Hawon’s head as she pulls away from you. 

Your eyes flicker to Yoongi, who scratches his scar as he watches on at the sight before him. 

“When you come over to my house, you’ll be able to eat all the sweets you want.” He suggests to your daughter.

She furrows her small eyebrows as you put her small backpack on her.

“Mommy and Daddy say candy is bad for your teeth, Uncle Yoongi.” She murmurs, earning giggles from both of her parents as she trudged to the doorway. 

“Okay big boy! Time to go to Uncle Yoongi’s.” Jimin whispers, kissing his son’s forehead.

Minseok looks up at you with big eyes before smiling widely. You’re so grateful that your children have such innocent souls. 

You watch the door close, seeing their small silhouettes slink out of sight before standing up straight and brushing off your dress.

“Okay.” Jimin whispers before pulling his gun out from behind his back. 

He whistles loudly throughout the silent house as he wraps his arm around your shoulder before loud noises begin to travel up through the maid’s quarters.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you bury your face into his sweet smelling chest. 

“Boss.” You hear from the kitchen as his crew enters the sitting room.

“Let’s make this place a fortress.” He says before looking down at you and smiling.

“Watch the fucking vase, Haneul!” You yell.

The priceless vase teeters on the stand before stilling and you breathe out a sigh of relief as your husband picks it up.

“Sorry, Madam!” Haneul calls as he sets up the tripod for the automatic machine gun.

“Fucking idiot. You break it, you buy it.” Jimin seethes as he smacks the back of the younger man’s head.

Your husband’s arms extend as you stand in the entryway watching your house become a gun museum. 

“Kitten. Why so serious?” He asks as he sets the vase on the coffee table approaching you slowly.

His hand rubs at your stomach first before engulfing you in a hug. Rubbing soothing circles on your back, you cringe loudly as you hear glass breaking.

“Oh you fucking morons!” Jimin yells as he turns his head to the broken vase on the hardwood floor.

“Sorry Boss! Shit!” One of the boys curses as he begins to pick up the pieces.

“Fucking stupid idiots.” He murmurs as you stomp your foot angrily.

Raising your eyebrows expectantly, he gives you a nervous chuckle before kissing your forehead.

“I’ll buy you a new one?” He asks, giving you a fake smile.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff before shoving people out of your way to enter the kitchen.

“Oh Kitten! I’m sorry, baby!” Jimin calls to you before punching the boy at fault.

“Baby! I’m sorry!” He yells as you step out into the garden.

Stepping along the newly placed pebble walkway, you take in the nice weather as the red and orange leaves fall from the limbs of the trees you’ve become so familiar with. 

This is madness, everything around you is chaotic and you’re smack dab in the middle trying to make sense of it all. 

As psychotic as Jimin seems to have become, you can understand his heart. 

You can understand just how detrimental this all is to him. To have family and loved ones in danger would make anyone go crazy. But, he seems to have a plan, and when your husband has a plan he would stop at nothing to go through with it. 

Your hand lands on your stomach as you sit down on the chaise lounge by the fire pit. Your fingers drift over your small bump as you watch the sun nestle into a cluster of clouds sending the skies into various shades of pinks and purples. 

“Kitten, I’m sorry my love.” Jimin calls to you as he jogs down the walkway. He sheathed his gun behind his back before frowning as you slowly turned your head to him. 

“I want all the priceless things removed before they break everything in my fucking house.” You tell him sternly and he nods as he steps over the stone steps to approach you.

“Anything you want.” He whispers before seeing a feminine body wade through the kitchen.

Both of your heads turn to the woman as she steps out of the kitchen into the backyard.

Rina stands with a manila folder between her two fingers closely followed by Kirsoon as he fixes his suit jacket.

Jimin smiles widely before flagging them over.

“Oh, it’s a party now.” He mumbles before pulling you into his lap as they make their way over. 

“Good evening.” Rina says as she sits in the chair opposite you and your husband.

“Hey.” You say as you look her over.

She was so nervous and frail when you first asked her to take over for you at the casino. Now, as you look at her you can’t help the elation you feel watching her confidence grow. 

“I have the plans for the party if you’re interested.” She says, holding up the folder.

Jimin smiles widely, his hand opening and closing as he leans forward. 

She giggles at his enthusiasm handing him the envelope as he purchases the silver cross between his teeth. 

“Oh, Kitten. This is going to be so much fun.” He murmurs as he places the folder on your lap.

Opening it, his chin hooks over your shoulder as you peruse through the documents.

If everything goes to plan it would be a grand welcome. This is one of the only things you can contribute but with so many mafia families being invited, something is bound to go wrong.

The theme of Casino Night is roaring twenties but more importantly it’s a chance to take in information on all of the mafia families in the area. 

One of them has to be against you and all you have to do is work it out. Easy, right?

Your husband runs his hand over your stomach as he holds you closer.

“You got all the extra cameras installed? Everything is set up?” He asks Kirsoon who nods in agreement.

“I don’t want someone taking a shit without me knowing about it. I don’t want anything to fall out from underneath us. One of these fucks is putting my family in danger. So help me God, I will find out who it is.” He mumbles through clenched teeth as you look at the documents.

“What about weapons, where will we be storing them?” You ask your husband as he runs his fingers over the silver chain around his neck.

“In baggage claim. No one is coming in with weapons, Kirsoon. If they do, I’ll cut your balls off and put them on a necklace for you to wear.” 

The bigger man swallows thickly before nodding wearily at his bosses words. 

“Yes Boss.” He whispers before clearing his throat and bowing his head.

“In just a week’s time. We’ll get these fuckers. Until then, I want you both to be careful. Don’t go anywhere without each other.” 

“That’s um… something I came over to talk to you about. If you turn to the last page, you can see why we can’t do it in a week's time.” Rina whispers as she points at the manila folder.

Your husband's eyebrows furrow before tossing all the pages onto the grass underfoot.

His eyes scan the paper before scoffing loudly.

“What do you mean it’ll take two whole months to fortify the safe and security features?! I’m asking to install automatic guns, not fucking switch bombs!” Your husband yells as he wiggles the paper back and forth.

You give a loud sigh in disappointment before turning to your husband. You watch as his neck veins protrude and thicken as he goes through his bout of anger. 

“Well...two months is worth the wait. I guess.” You say to him as you fix some of his hair behind his ear.

“You’ll be five months pregnant and showing by then.” He mumbles to you.

“That’s alright.” You whisper, earning a loud scoff from him.

“No Kitten. It’s not alright, then if whoever it is sees my baby growing inside of you they’ll work harder to attack us. Goddammit!” He screams, crumpling up the paper and throwing it at Kirsoon.

The paper ball hits the man’s broad chest and he looks at you nervously as Jimin repeatedly taps your thigh to get off of him.

You do as told, sliding down the chaise lounge as he begins to pace back and forth. He pulls his gun out from his waistband and you watch on with bored eyes as he begins to shoot the large trunked tree that has been through quite a bit in this garden of yours. 

He empties the whole clip, screaming in anger all the while before men file out of the kitchen with their guns drawn.

 His fingers run through his hair before sneering at them.

“Get back to work!” He yells before putting his gun back in his waistband. 

With a grunt, he kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be back.” He whispers.

“And, where do you think you’re going?” You call to him as he takes off down the pebbled road.

“To have some fucking fun!” He calls back as he enters the kitchen.

“Jimin...I don’t know if we should be doing this.” Taehyung whispers to his best friend as they sit in the back of the van. 

"Shut up. If you feel so terribly about it then just stay in the truck." He murmurs before purchasing his silver cross between his teeth.

"I don't feel terrible about it, I just don't want any aftermath." His best friend mumbles beneath his breath, something the keen mafia leader hears anyway.

"There will always be aftermath, Tae. Always. Don't go pussying out on me because you got your wife pregnant." Jimin mumbles as he loads bullets into his gun.

There's silence in the van apart from Jeongguk shuffling around and taking swigs of his whisky. 

"You're stinking up the van with that sh-" His voice is cut off to the youngest by the loud ringing of his prepaid phone.

Answering it, he puts the phone on speaker as Taehyung peaks out the driver's side window.

"We got a shipment on our twelve. Looks like a heavy load." He hears Jin call through the phone.

"Clean take, no left overs." Jimin says back as he rolls the silencer onto the mouth of his gun.

The same words are uttered by the men, one the phone and in the van before the call ends.

Jimin tosses the prepaid phone to the youngest who takes off the back and pulls out the battery. 

His fingers are sloppy but quick as he pulls out the prepaid SIM card. Jimin makes it a point to watch the youngest put the card in his mouth before taking a swig of whisky to wash it down. 

"Open your mouth." Jimin instructs and he nods pleased with Guk before pressing his body against the back doors of the van.

"They stopped." Taehyung whispers as he cock his gun.

Jimin holds his hand up in a fist, before lifting his fingers ever so slowly counting.

"One...Two...Three." He whispers aloud before barreling open the back doors and jumping out onto the dirt road.

With the guys quick on his tail, they slowly sneak around the parked van.

"Junggoo is going to flip when he sees all this coke. This is our biggest delivery yet!" The driver cheers happily.

Jimin stations himself below the driver's door and waits for Taehyung's signal.

What the Im's were doing in the cocaine business was anybody's guess but they're taking money and land away from Hyunah and that would not do.

Taehyung whistles loudly and Jimin stands up.

"What the fuc-" The scream is cut off as Jimin smiles widely, his silver cross purchased between his teeth as he pulls the trigger.

The blood splatter is something out of a modernist painting as it coats the windshield and he can't help the throaty chuckle that leaves his throat. Wipin bgg some blood off of his cheek, he begins to whistle as Guk opens the back doors of the drug trunk.

"We got kilos on kilos, Boss." He slurs and Jimin's smile widens as he slowly makes his way to the back. 

Jin's van pulls up in a matter of seconds, dirt flying into the air as he backs the truck up. Taehyung pulls open the doors and the unloading begins. 

Hoseok jumps out of the passenger's side, holding up the phone. Pulling off the back and battery, he swallows the SIM card in Jimin's line of sight before going to change the plates of the abandoned van by the side of the dirt road.

"So where are we taking it?" Namjoon asks as he hangs his body out of the window of the van.

"To the Lee's den. Yoongi is waiting there with some men to distribute and cut." He tells him, earning nods.

"We heard about Casino Night, sorry Chim." Jin says as he walks around the van to his boss.

Jimin lights a cigarette before posting up against the side, his foot purchased on the white metal before shrugging.

"Guess I'll just have to raise hell until I can get my revenge." He notices Jeongguk's smirk out of the corner of his eye before smiling widely.

"And raising hell has always been a skill I've been extremely good at."

[thereluctantinquisitor]

WIP Whenever

Thank you for the tag @captainsaku! At the moment, I’m still limping through the opening chapters of Stonebreaker, trying to get a feel for the story and work on strengthening my atrophied writing muscles. Anyway, I figured I’d share what I have so far of Adiran’s introductory chapter. It’s basically just an awkward, descriptive mess, but at least it’s something. At this point, I’ll count that as a win!

I also put a short glossary at the end in case some terms were confusing. <3

Chapter 3 - A Scene

Be present. Do not cause a scene.

They were simple enough requests, Adiran supposed, as he braced himself and drained his third flute of wine. He knew it was poor form to cringe after swallowing, but the dry white was about as pleasant as a mouthful of sand and only went down half as well. If he was the paranoid type, he’d think the servers were offering him the worst vintages on purpose.

Then again, the celebration had stretched into its ninth day, now. Even the royal cellars had a limit.

Despite overstaying its welcome, the event remained at a predictably lofty height of splendour. In the ballroom - Vetrose’s famed Silver Font -  delicate rivulets of water, no wider than the span of a hand, curled their way across the marble floor, draining into a shallow pool at the base of the royal thrones. Above their heads, weavelight strings were draped elegantly between pillars and across wide arches, their glowing pinpricks joining the blazing chandelier to bathe the room a honey-gold.

Beneath that radiant light, the Talveran nobility moved like swans, jewellery glittering, ankle-length gowns and embroidered jackets flashing enough to catch the attention of nesting crows. Hundreds packed the Font that night - an entirely different crowd to the evening prior, and likely the one prior to that. Attending Talveran court, with its litany of demands and expectations, was an exhausting and expensive affair. Every evening demanded a new outfit. A new glittering showpiece. A new plan for navigating the treacherous waters of social interaction, careful not to show too much interest in any one person. One night was difficult enough to survive. Very few could afford to be present for an entire turn’s worth of celebration.

Unfortunately, Adiran had no choice in the matter. It just had to be his brother returning from the northern border. As if no one else had ever come back from that waste of a campaign.

Another mouthful. Another weary swallow of something half as strong as it needed to be. Honestly, he’d almost rather be swallowing sand. At least that meant he’d be in the arena, getting his ass kicked practicing for something that mattered, instead of wasting his time decorating the wall. Divider’s Own, Lorvain was meant to have arrived by the third day! Adiran might have been able to slip away if he had been around to soak up the attentions of the lords and ladies. But no. The beloved Crown Prince had probably stopped to fawn over milkmaids and shepherds at every town between here and Morgate. Really, they should have accounted for that before throwing such a ridiculous event...

 A prince should want to know his people, Adiran. I thought you understood that?

Threading paths expertly between the nobility were almost three dozen servers dressed in vibrant Volise green. Silver trays were held aloft on the pads of their gloved fingers as they moved in rehearsed patterns around the room, making sure every hand that sought a glass found a delicate stem. It was a different sort of dance; the kind that typically went unnoticed, the same way a clock’s hands are appreciated more than the mechanism behind the face. They knew the position of every crack in the stone; every rivulet.

None of them ever looked down.

Speaking of timing, the only reason Adiran paid the servers any heed was to make sure he got his right. On cue, he finished his wine with a grimace and thrust it towards a well-groomed young woman, her dark hair braided and pinned neatly around her head. Without so much as an errant blink, she bobbed carefully at the knees, accepted the glass, and replaced it with a new one from her tray. 

“Careful not to drop that,” Adiran said, taking the drink and giving it an experimental sniff. Sweeter. Thank the Divider for that.

The server hesitated. They always did. Every night. “Your Highness?” she asked, and her lilt was perfection. Just the right amount of simpering, blended with polite curiosity. Someone had taken her training seriously.

“Am I slurring already? What I’m saying is that if the Crown Prince finally shows up and you’re in the middle of mopping a puddle, the King will have your hide for saddle leather. So...” He extended one bored finger towards the tray, a smirk curling the corner of his lips. “Tread lightly.”

The server’s mouth opened, and for a moment no sound followed. For just one blissful, fleeting second, Adiran thought he’d finally done it. He’d finally won. 

Then, like underappreciated clockwork, her lips shaped themselves into a beatific smile, and she dipped into a curtsy. The tray never even wobbled. “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. On my word, I will remain diligent. I would not dare bring shame on our King’s house.”

Damn it. The smile Adiran flashed back - half a sneer - could cut glass. But the server had already completed her parting bob and returned to her dance, weaving and gliding among the gaggle of silver-bloods with her tray of weak wine. Expression turning brittle, Adiran huffed and leaned back against one of the massive marble pillars - just one of fifteen lining the room. He’d claimed it on the first evening, like a hound staking its territory. Most people knew better than to bother him once he’d found his haunt, but the serving staff simply didn’t have that luxury. He supposed it was probably unkind, to force them to speak to him. But Divider, he was just so bored...

Scowling, he took a long swallow of his new drink, the chilled, sweet liquid a welcome enough sensation as it ran down the back of his throat.

So he was unkind. So what?

“Are you finished losing to the servers for tonight, or should I come back later?”

A familiar voice, and right on time. Adiran gave no indication of surprise, barely even turning to acknowledge the man. After all, this was just another ritual for them; a way to take a knife to long hours of affluent, barely drunk loitering. “Yeah, I’m done. An earthquake couldn’t shake them.” His gaze finally cut across, delivering what he hoped was a scathing look as Riin settled against the pillar beside him. “Took you long enough. Get distracted by all the pretty gowns and pouting lips?”

Folding his arms across his broad chest, Riin chuckled softly, utterly immune to Adiran’s glare. “Could you blame me if I was? Everyone looks appealing under this light.”

“That’s generous of you.” Sniffing, Adiran glanced up. Even with the smoke-glass covers encasing each glowing orb, he still had to squint against the brightness of the weavelights. “Guess it could be worse. We looked more like corpses before the covers were put on.”

“Really? I’m glad I missed it.”

“Yeah. Being dead inside is more than enough.”

Riin laughed, and a faint smile curved Adiran’s lips. He quickly hid it behind his glass. Truthfully, the entire ‘weavelight saga’ had been ridiculous. The King and Queen had commissioned hundreds of them from Tel Shival, purely because no one else had ever done it. Even the wealthiest families only ever had a few per household, usually kept in a lantern or a sconce in the most frequented rooms. After two seasons of painstaking arrangement that nearly killed two of their staff, the Silver Font soon found itself bathed in a thematically violent silver light. It had been an exciting novelty, at first; nobility flooded in from all over Talvera just to bask in the glow of thousands of wasted sicets. But then they quickly realised that colours didn’t behave the same way. Their favourite jewellery didn’t catch the eye. Their skin didn’t appear as youthful and rosy. Instead, every flaw - every stray hair or unpolished button - was placed on stark display for the vultures to pick at.

The weavelights were as bleak and clinical as a physicker’s ward. They sucked the warmth out of everything they touched.

In Adiran’s mind, the wash of corpse-light over each soiree was a perfectly fitting thing. But, as was typical, no one else agreed. So, they decided to encase each of the weavelights in honey-tinted glass and returned the room to almost exactly how it looked before. Back when it was lit by oil and flame.

That was how things were in Talvera. Decisions were made, sicets were spent, and then everyone just wanted to go back to how things used to be. Like nothing had ever happened.

GLOSSARY

Weavelight - spheres of crystal or glass, with a light-bearing glyphstring engraved by a thaumist specialising in Weaving. Maintains a bright, steady silver light. Cannot be dimmed or turned off at will. Thaumist - a well-trained practitioner of the thaumic arts, capable of manipulating thaumic essence. Turn - ten days. Tel Shival - An independent, famously insular city dedicated to the training and cultivation of thaumists and thaumaturgical study. Sicet - Currency used in the Allied Kingdoms.

---

Tagging: @frenchy-and-the-sea, @leothelionsaysgrrrr, @bladeverbena, @thefluffynug, @rufinagertrude, @arduyn, @anarchyduck, and anyone else who has a WIP they’d like to share!

[wreckofawriter]

Pulled Apart

~Part 2~ ~Part 3~

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Regulus Black x reader, Redacted x reader and Redacted x reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and death, swearing

Summary: Everyone is lost in the world as the man soon to be called the Dark Lord rises to power. Your parents are already ready to give their life along with your own for this man. You spend your seventh year in Hogwarts being pulled apart by the expectations for you and the hope placed in you by your childhood friend Sirius and his closest companions.

A/n: The first part to my seires! I'm going to be posting new parts once a week, there are going to be around 10 of them. I hope you guys enjoy!

    The night was a pitch black, the moon hid from the horrors that had taken the earth behind layers of deep grey clouds. The stars gave no signs as they did every other night, they too were afraid. The wind came in nervous gusts which whipped through the dark robes of the pale wizard as he walked through the silent town. Not one window gave off a warm light, but that was normal in Clovelly, people were never up past midnight. 

    The soft footsteps on cobblestone were far too gentle considering where they were leading. A deafening stomp followed by the scream of broken glass would have been more appropriate. But things were rarely as they were seen. The man -if you could call him that much-  didn’t bother knocking on the small wooden door but instead pulled a wand from his pocket and whispered a spell. The hinges which hadn’t been tended to in years creaked as they parted way for the wizard. He padded into the small entry investigating the photographs which hung on the beige walls. 

    The stairs were carpeted, silencing death’s warnings as he continued with his shrunken, bladeless scythe. The prey he sought was fast asleep, her deep blue eyes closed, unaware they would never re-open. The man didn’t linger in front of her bed for long, he had no intention of looking at the woman’s face for longer than necessary. 

    A gust of wind shook the windows, ruffling the small cat’s dark fur as it watched the windows flash green. Life was taken, yet the world spun on, it always would. Life wasn’t the world’s worry.

    “Black!” You snapped stomping into the red and gold common room. No one was quite sure how you knew the passwords each week but no one dared to ask. 

    The called boy turned his head looking over his shoulder to see you marching towards him. 

    James cringed when he caught the expression on your face, “Good luck man.” he murmured moving from his spot next to Sirius on the couch to the chair across from him. 

    “Hey y/n,” Sirius spoke, plastering a smile onto his thin lips.

    You scoffed in disgust as you placed yourself in front of him, hands on your hips, “Can you possibly keep your dick in your pants for more than a minute?” you scowled and James turned a laugh into a cough behind your back.

    “Wow y/n, I didn’t know you wanted my dick too, but I mean I’m game if y- Mother fucker!” Sirius doubled over in pain clutching his soon to be bruised shin.

    “I told you not to fuck around with any of my friends Black.” You said, “And yet. What do I wake up to but Pearl gushing about how she and the infamous Sirius Black are now dating.”

    Sirius scrunched his nose in disgust, “What no way, Pearl and I are not dating.” 

    “Yeah, no shit!” You yelled smacking him upside the head with the back of your hand.

    The boy moaned, rubbing his head, “Come on y/n.” He whined, “It’s too early to be abused.” 

    “It’s also too early to hear one of your best friend’s heart break but here we are.” You spoke, gesturing wildly around you, “I can’t believe you slept with her.” 

    “I told you not to mess with Pearl, Sirius.” Remus called from the top of the stairs, beginning down towards the scene you had created. 

    “Chime out Moony.” Sirius huffed, “This is none of your business.” 

    You now had your head buried in your hands, mumbling tiredly about Sirius’s absolute stupidity.

    “Pearl is the really nice blonde one right?” James asked behind you and Remus nodded taking the armchair next to him. 

    “She sure was nice in bed,” Sirius grinned. His smirk was wiped away as the toe of your dress shoe connected with his shin again.

    “I swear to Salazar, Black!” You shrieked.

    Remus winced, “We’re on last names?” He whispered to James who nodded.

“She hasn’t called him Sirius yet.”  

    Sirius shrugged, “I told her it was only for one night, I didn’t think it would be an issue.” he explained.

“The issue is they always come to me expecting me to get them a date!” You wailed, “And then I have to break their hearts, you dumbass!”

Sirius pondered this for a moment, “Okay I can see how that would be annoying.”

You let out a sigh, “So you’ll stop sleeping with my friends then.” you questioned eyebrows raised. 

    Sirius frowned pouting, “But your friends are so hot.” 

    You threw your hands up in the air, turning to James and Remus who both shrugged giving you looks of pity. Giving up, you dropped beside Sirius on the couch. 

    “You’re such an asshole.” You mumbled, leaning your head onto his shoulder, blowing at the hair which fell into your eyes.

    “You love me.” He chuckled, glancing down at you in amusement.

    You bit your lip humming, “Do I?” 

    You had always hated cold weather, it didn’t help that your common room seemed to be ten degrees colder than the rest of the castle. It was nice in the summer but the winter was miserable. Goosebumps ripped up your arm as you approached the stone wall that had been submitted to memory by every green-robed student in the school. 

    “Purity.” You mumbled and the stones parted. You never liked Slytherins passwords, you always felt sick to your stomach as you watch some muggle-born speak horrible things against themselves simply to get to bed. Your mother had told you she thought the passwords were nothing short of adequate, fitting the house quite well. You had learned that your mother was usually wrong. 

    As you entered the room your eyes wandered to a group of students you knew a bit too well. The rest of the common room was empty as it always was when your meetings -or hangouts as most of the group called them- took place. 

Lucious turned towards you with a sneer. “Where were you y/l/n?” He snapped, voice icy as his eyes. “You’re late.”

    “None of your business Malfoy.” You replied, “You’re not my mother.”

    “He kinda looks like her.” Avery laughed behind the blonde.

    You cracked a grin, “Don’t insult my mother like that, even her nose isn’t that big.” 

    Malfoy scoffed as you placed yourself next to Avery, who always seemed a bit too close. The Black sisters glanced up at you, Narssicia with a soft smile and Bellatrix with a frown of disgust, you didn’t take it personally. 

    “She’s obviously been with our dreadful cousin.” The curly-haired girl spat.

    You rolled your eyes with a sigh, “Where is Regulus anyway?” you mumbled hoping to move the conversation away from your whereabouts. 

    “He said he was going to be here in a few minutes,” Narssicia answered, her eyes returning to the book in her lap. 

    You nodded nervously picking at the dark polish on your nails. You hated these meetings, they made your stomach twist in knots and your heart hammer too quickly in your chest. Despite the often joking nature of the students, you each knew the other would take your life if given the order. It caused your anxiety to spike and eyes to flirt dangerously form person to person. 

    Your gaze lingered on Snape, the newest member of your little club. His hair was plastered down onto his pale face, lips a thin pink which seemed to be bitten raw. He felt your stare and glanced up in a silent challenge.  You thanked Regulus for his timing as the common room’s door slid open.  

    He nodded at the few greetings he received apologizing for his tardiness and taking a seat next to you. Your heartbeat immediately calmed, the younger Blacks presence did wonders for the terrifying thoughts that clouded your head as you stared down the future murders your parents had pushed you to be friends with. 

    You felt yourself subconsciously leaning towards the boy, he never seemed to mind. 

    Bellatrix mumbled a concealing spell and the meeting began. 

    “So any new tasks this week?” Mcruber asked, far too excited to get something terrible done.

    “Not for a while actually,” Malfoy grunted and you felt momentary ecstasy. “The old bat that runs this place knows something is up. Apparently he started his own group of fifthly mudbloods.” 

    Your stomach tightened.

    “I don’t buy it.” The elder Black sister scoffed leaning back on the couch.  

    “It doesn’t matter whether you buy it or not, Bella.” Regulus drawled, rolling his eyes at his older cousin.

    “We are supposed to lay low for a bit,” Lucious explained ignoring Bellatrix who made faces at her younger cousin, “My father suggested we find a different place to meet as well, this is open.” 

    The others nodded in agreement. 

    “So we are just supposed to sit here?” Avery asked, his voice holding a hint of a whine.

    “Sounds like it.” Snape murmured, glancing around the table, his gaze landing on you and staying there for far too long. 

    You felt Regulus stiffen beside you. You looked up at the boy to see him staring straight back at the half-blood who eventually caved. Severus didn’t trust you. You knew that and so did everyone else seated around you. You just prayed that everyone would continue to consider him paranoid as they currently were. Most of them didn’t trust the half-blood himself, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he broke through their walls. 

    The meeting only lasted another ten minutes filled with useless questions being answered as you slowly inched closer and closer to Regulus, Snape’s stares becoming downright frightening as his eyes stayed locked on your form. It didn’t help that Avery had tried to throw his arm around your shoulder twice now. You felt trapped, like a mouse in a cage.

    The third time you had to push the blonde-haired boy’s arm from your shoulders Regulus stood from his seat silencing the conversation that Lucious and Narssica had been having. 

    “She’s obviously not interested, so back off.” He growled, his fists tightening at his side. 

    Avery was taken aback by the actions of the usually quiet male, he opened his mouth to speak, shutting it quickly when he caught the glare you pointed at him. A sly smirk took his visage and he pulled up his arms in surrender, “My bad, I didn’t know she was taken.” 

    You scoffed, a snarl finding your face, “I’m not into you because you’re a disgusting pig, not because I’m dating someone else.” 

    His face grew red, anger darkening his bright eyes,  “What did you just say to me bitch?” he leaped to his feet leaning towards you. You heard Narcissa gasp. 

    Regulus pushed the other boy squarely in the shoulders, sending him back into the couch which you had stood from, backing away quickly.

    “Don’t speak to her that way.” Regulus hissed, one of his hands gripping Avery’s face roughly as he kneeled on his thigh with one leg.

    Mcruber snatched Regulus’s arms pulling him away from the other boy with a warning glance. You heard Bellatrix laughing behind you, her shriek only worsening your mood. 

    “Let’s calm down guys, no need to kill each other,” Mcruiber spoke a palm to each male’s chest, standing between them.

    “You best watch it Black.” Avery spat before shoving Mcriber away from him and storming up the stairs and slamming the door to his dorm room. 

    Regulus dropped his shoulders with a huff and glanced towards you in a soundless question.

    You nodded, Bellatrix still cackling over your shoulder.

    “So protective Reggy.” She giggled.

    Your eyes turned in their sockets, “Shut up Bella.” You glanced at Regulus who had turned away from you, sitting back down on the couch. You made you way next to him hearing Mcrubier cough awkwardly. 

    Snape stood himself, gathering a few books which were set on the dark coffee table in front of him, “If we’re done, I’m leaving.”

    He was only met with nods before he turned on his heel and made towards the common room exit.

    “This makes things easier anyway, considering they weren’t invited.” Mcruiber chuckled reaching for his bag and pulling out a stack of heavy envelopes.

As he distributed the parchment you leaned into the youngest Black, “Thanks Reg.” your voice was a sweet whisper.

The boy only nodded stiffly before you backed away from him to accept the invitation from Mcruiber. You peeled open the wax not surprised to see almost illegible thin cursive writing announcing a ball two weeks from the next day. 

“You’re supposed to bring a date.” Mcruiber huffed, clearly not a fan of the idea, “They have to be respectful to the setting of course.” He didn’t need to elaborate, you all knew what he meant. “Some families from France, Bulgaria, and Germany will be there as well.” 

You nodded along with everyone else, eyes scanning the guest list on the back catching your family’s name along with four dozen others. 

“It’s over Christmas break so if any of you are staying here then you would want to arrange something with your parents.” The brunette explained finishing his rounds and settling into his original seat. 

You felt a familiar sense of dread fill you at a mention of the approaching break, ignoring the painful pressure on your chest you got to your feet bringing your hand through your hair, “I’m heading up to bed.” You stated, “I need a nap.” 

A murmur of goodbyes met your ears as you turned to leave. Just as your foot met the first step leading towards the girls dorm a call pulled you back.  

“What’s up Reg?’ You asked looking up at the younger boy.

He paused, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, “You know what, it’s not important.” he muttered.

You frowned, “Alright. I’ll see you later”

He nodded, “Yeah, see you.” 

    You continued up the stairs, hoping sleep would wipe away the bitterness of the gathering you had just taken part in, unaware of the set of eyes that followed you until you slipped out of their view. 

    You let the meeting slip from your head, the words exchanged in its secrecy did nothing but trouble you. You successfully distracted yourself for three days. Tests and essays made the job easy as you plunged headfirst into the deep waters of education. The last thing you wanted was to face your mother in two weeks’ time with inadequate grades, she would have your head. You found your classes easy enough, it felt good to be like everyone else for a few moments, you were just another kid stressing over Transfiguration notes and procrastinating with your friends. It was easy to forget you were anything but another kid. 

    The normalness you had grown to love was ripped away from you in one cruel movement. 

    It was late at night, the windows creaking from heavy snowfall and harsh winds. You and a few others were pushed from the library where you had taken sanctuary with a thick book under your arm. 

You headed towards the dungeons alone, the castle practically empty from the rapidly approaching curfew. Your hurried steps were cut short when a cat cut in front of you. It wasn't the raggeded Mrs. Norris you were accustomed to. Instead, you were greeted with a brown tabby, its fur neat and trimmed as it gave you an oddly familiar pointed look.

You frowned, you knew this cat. Your mind reeled as you tried to remember its origin. You gasped as the memory snapped into place, “Professor?” 

The cat nodded confirming your suspicion before trotting off towards the east wing. She paused turning to look back at you. 

Catching the message you picked up your pace to follow the disguised teacher. The halls were silent save the murmur of portraits and the occasional wisp of a ghost. You didn’t dare speak unsure of what was happening as you trailed through the castle until you stood in front of a massive gargoyle, its teeth bared at you in a warning. 

You blink owlishly before turning back to the cat which was no longer a cat. Your professor stood in front of you, but she didn’t meet your questioning eyes only muttering a password under her breath before commanding you forwards into the now opening stairwell.

    You started to climb the stone steps only for them to rotate upwards startling you into gripping the wall to your left. 

    Your anxiety had spiked into a near attack. You knew where this staircase led and you knew who was waiting for you. It was the matter of what he was going to say that caused your heart to rush in your chest. 

    The slow spiral upwards had stopped and you were opened to a circular room decorated in mumbling portraits and strange-looking artifacts. 

    “Ah, Ms. y/l/n.” 

    You pulled your eyes away from a set of strange silver instruments to meet your headmaster’s eyes. 

    “I’m assuming you are wondering what you are doing here at this ungodly hour.” He chuckled.

    You glanced at your watch, it was only ten-thirty. You nodded anyway, “Am I in trouble professor?” you asked, trying not to sound as anxious as you felt. 

    He laughed again, something you found irritating as you tried not to shake in panic, “Of course not.” 

    You wondered how that was so obvious considering the circumstances.

    “But I am afraid I am going to have to ask you for a favor.” The humor had dropped from his voice and you gulped, pressing your hands which were slick with sweat together.

    The elderly man motioned for you to take a seat in front of his desk. You did so carefully, your eyes darting around you the way they were taught to when you didn’t know what was going on.

    There was a breath of silence as Dumbledore peered at you over his half-moon spectacles, the portraits had stopped their conversations, and the strange ticking you had been exposed to when first entering had halted. 

    “I would like us to come to an agreement not to lie to each other in this conversation y/n.” He spoke pointedly, your given name sounding strange on his lips.

    You nodded numbly, deciding immediately not to follow through with that accord.

    He paused for a moment too long, a somber look taking his worn features, “I assume you have heard of the man who is calling himself Voldemort.” 

    Your eyes widened, you fought a wince, “Yes I have.” you managed to croak. Your throat felt abnormally dry.

    “You also know of his large and growing number of followers don’t you?” He inquired.

    You felt your back go stiff, “Yes sir.”

    He licked his lips leaning back in his chair, “And we both know your family is apart of that following.”

    You felt yoru breath lodge in your throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, professor.” you spoke so cleanly, you surprised yourself.

    He glared down at you, “I thought we agreed not to lie.”

    “I’m not lying, sir.” You respond like a well-trained dog.

    He sighed, “Minerva was right, you are going to be hard to break.”

    You did reply, your face stone, unmoving as you stared deep into midnight blue eyes.

    He broke the held eye contact leaning back in his chair slightly, “Y/n, what is your relationship with Sirius Black.”

    You furrowed your brows, “What does Sirius have to do with any of this?” 

“Sirius has everything to do with this.” 

You hesitated a moment, “We’re friends. We have been since we were young.”

“Yes, you have.” He mumbled, “And what about James Potter?”

This question only confused you more, “I’m sorry sir, if you were just going to ask me about my relationship with a list of boys I will be getting to bed.”

Dumbledore laughed loudly, the tension in the room dispersing as he mentioned for you to sit back in the seat you had risen from, “I’m offtly sorry y/n, this must all be very confusing, I suppose I should get to the point.”

“I agree.” you bit back.

His smile once again dropped, “I have started a group, an organization of sorts to help combat the actions and supporters of Lord Voldemort.” 

You felt the color drain from your face.

“I brought you here today to ask if you would be willing to join us.” 

Your head spun, your fingers instinctively found the skin of your forearm and pinched it to keep you in reality, “I-I’m sorry, what?” the confusion read very clearly in your tone.

“We would like you to join. Sirius fought very hard for us to offer you a spot, James seconded him and Remus was his third.” The headmaster explained, “They all believe that you would be a useful asset on our team.”

Your mouth dropped slightly and you blinked rapidly, “I’m sorry, I don’t think you understand what your asking me.”

“I am very sure I do. I was wondering if you understood.” The man said with raised eyebrows. 

You licked your lips trying to organize your thoughts, “So you want me- a pureblood Slytherin- to join your anti-dark lord group?” You were very aware of the fact that you may have given up your position as a supporter, but you were too baffled to care.

“We would be asking you to be a spy.” He confirmed, “Relay information about the other side for us.” 

And finally, you understood, it all came at you in a rush of dead leaves. A spy. You would be a two-faced snitch for them. An uncertain rage filled you, “You know what, I don’t think you do understand what you’re asking me.” you hissed at the man, “Because what you just asked me to do was to throw away my life.” Your voice was venom, but the man stood unmoved. 

“I do realize that.” He spoke calmly.

“You don’t” you snarled, “Because if you did then you wouldn’t be asking.” 

You stood to leave but was stopped in your tracks when a small boy appeared in front of you. He was a wisp of smoke, his dark hair a mess, grey eyes rimmed in red, heavy tears sliding down his plump cheeks as he cradled his hand close to his chest. 

You turned back to your professor, anger bubbling in your chest, “How dare you.” you sneered your own wand out in a flash.

“Sirius told me to use it.” He replied bluntly, “He told me you would agree. But that you would need a push. I know I’m asking too much of you, but you are needed y/n. The Order needs you.” 

You stood too still, your feet feeling like they were planted into cement, you had already known the answer the second he he asked, you had known it the moment you had stepped into this office. 

“Do you agree to join us y/n?” 

You felt numb, “I agree.”

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac

Masterlist

[captaindodson]

Starstruck -Timothée Chalamet - 2/06

Authors Note: Hello everyone! Its been nearly two months since I have last updated and I’m so sorry about that. I made the mistake of going into this series blindly without planning out anything. So, I am back and ready to finish this bad boy! I also wanted to say thank you for showing support for the first part! I hope you enjoy! 

Synopsis: Ella and this mysterious man accidentally run into each other in an alley and they both want something different.They soon both go their separate ways, but what these two people don’t know, is that they’re not done running into each other just yet.  

Read Part One Here! 

Word Count: 4.0k+

“I’m not going to hurt you, just please don’t scream my name.” 

Ella’s eyes are full of fear as the man couches down in front of her, head swinging quickly from side to side looking at each end of the alley while his face is somewhat concealed with a baseball hat. Ella proceeds to stare wide eyed at the stranger she just ran into as the echo of screams continue to fill the air. She then curls her fingers around the mans pale hand that has been placed securely over her mouth and peels it off quickly to scramble to her feet. Her cheeks now flush with a hint of red as she dusts off her jeans to nervously meets the eyes of the man. 

“I’m so so sorry, I-I-I didn’t, I-I mean wasn’t looking where I was going,” 

Ella gulps nervously as she backs up slowly. Ella’s chest expands and collapses at an increasing pace as her hands start to curl into fists. 

The man looks down at her hands and proceeds to wave his hands up in a defensive manner. 

“I should apologize I wasn’t watching where I was going either and I wasn’t thinking,” his eyes are wide, his arms move frantically but he continues. 

“Do you want an autograph or a picture to forget this whole thing happened,” the man takes a step towards Ella as he’s met with silence. Ella takes a step back and now her hands have fulled curled into fists. 

“You don’t have to give me anything, just please let me leave,”

Ella pleads with the man, but he seems to ignore her request. 

“Are you sure? Do you want money? A check? Name any amount and ill give it to you,”

He says with such urgency as he looks down to reach into his sweater to retrieve something, but Ella takes this moment to rush past him before he has the chance to pull out whatever he had in his sweater. Ella quickly dashes around the corner down the street to where the source of the screaming continues to echo from. The man’s emerald eyes follow Ella’s disappearing figure until his eyes can longer see her. His eyes linger for just a moment until they swing back towards the alley. He sighs and shoves his hands aggressively into the pockets of his sweater. Just as he goes to step forward his foot kicks a wallet over on it’s side. He leans down to pick up the wallet and quickly stands tall, spins around and opens his mouth to yell after the girl he just ran into. He closes his mouth just as quickly as he stood up straight. He reluctantly puts the wallet into his pocket and continues on his journey. 

Ella’s running turns into a light jog down the sidewalk with a large crowd at the end of the street. The crowd seems to be getting bigger and bigger as she gets closer. Out of the crowd she spots two bodies that look very familiar, one female has a black bob and a small grey purse,  the other is a brunette with long hair. Lindsey and Jordan are stuck at the back of this large crowd  jumping with their phones in hand, trying to push themselves further to get a closer look. Ella reaches the crowd eventually and taps both girls on the shoulder. The girls look annoyed, but when they turn around and realize its Ella, they give her coy smiles. 

“Oh hey Ella, so glad you could catch up with us. We are just about to meet Timothee! Maybe you can get a picture with him!”

“Yeah, ” Lindsey exclaims happily as she elbows Jordan’s side. Ella looks very unimpressed with their proposal. Cheeks still flushed, she looks at the ground and then back up the girls with a big sigh.

“You two, ” Ella pulls out of her phone from her back pocket to show the girls the time. Its been exactly 25 minutes since they let their parents. 

“If we don’t walk back now they’re going to get suspicious and then they’re going to come looking for us and realize we are not where we said we’d be,”  Jordan and Lindsey look at each other and roll their eyes. 

“You’re such a goodie two shoes Ella, why can’t we just have some fun? Also, what happened to your phone.”

Ella tilts her head and gives the girls a look confusion.  “My phone is perfectly fine-”

Ella’s voice drops as she turns her iphone around and it has a large spider web crack stretching across the screen. 

“Fuck,” Ella whispers out as she stares at the cracked glass. 

“What were you doing Ella,” Jordan questions as she leans forward so her face is a little closer to Ella’s. Her eyes squint and lips purse. 

“It doesn’t matter, we have to leave now,” Ella shakes her head and shoves her broken phone into her back pocket. Her jaws clenches as her eyes narrow while looking at the two unmoving girls. 

“You can have fun chasing a boy when its not me looking after you. We are in a foreign city, miles away from home, you don’t know who you will run into and what their intentions are so lets go,” 

Ella waves her finger at the girls as she speaks almost like a parent scolding their child for eating a cookie for breakfast after they’ve been told no. Lindsey and Jordan open their mouths to respond but Ella denies them the chance to get a word in to protest. 

“I’m not fucking around, lets go, “ Ella’s drips with a hint of annoyance as she turns her body sideways, pointing in the direction of where she just came from. 

A few people from the crowd stop their screaming as they watch the scene unfold behind them. Lindsey and Jordan look back at the people standing in front of them, blocking their view of the back door of the theatre. They meet a couple pairs of eyes watching them and they gulp nervously and turn back towards Ella. They appear to accept defeat as they start making their way to the rental house where the parents are. Shoulders are slouched and heads hang as Ella keeps an eagle eye on the girls, as they walk a step or two ahead of her. 

There is enough space between the girls that Ella won’t kick their ankles, but enough room that she can reach her arms out and grab their shirts. They make their way past a large brick building and into the alley that Ella had previously fallen in. A peach coloured sky lays above  them now as a cold breeze wraps itself around the three girls. Ella remains unfazed by the cold breeze as the two younger girls warm their arms around their bodies to block out the wind. 

When the girls eventually come into view of their rental home they see their parents sitting on wooden chairs, facing towards the street right next to each other. Their father has his large black rimmed, glasses resting on the edge of his nose while the faint light of his phone reflects off his glasses. Their mother sits next to him mimicking his actions except with a book The sound of foot steps approaching alerts their mother to look up and smile towards the girls. 

“So how was the fro-yo girls”

Their mother questions as she stands up, putting her book on her seat and clasping her hands in front of her. Lindsey and Jordan turn around and exchange looks with Ella as she stares back at them with a look of annoyance.

“Uh it was good, but I think Lin and I are going to head up stairs and just sleep for a little bit.’

Jordan slowly turns her head back towards her mother as she lets out a large exhale of breath. Her  shoulders remain slack  as she walks up the stone steps of the house while being trailed by Lindsey. They walk single file as they open the door to the house and make their way inside. Ella follows them up onto the porch but stops right on the edge of the porch.

“Well you girls go on rest, Ell, your farther, and I will pick something for dinner.”

Their mother stands next to the doorway as they hum in response with their heads hung low. As Lindsey and Jordan make their way up the wooden steps to the second floor to get to their shared bedroom a quiet buzz comes from Jordan’s small purse. She pulls it out and is met with a direct message from Instagram and a multitude of photos from another Timothee Chalamet fan account. The message reads: Girllll Timothee was seen leaving the theatre! Did you get a pic with him? Is he as handsome in person as he is in photos???  Jordan’s eyebrow raises as she uses her left thumb to unlock her phone and scroll through the message and photos she was just sent. 

“Oh my fucking god, you gotta be kidding me,” Jordan’s jaw drops open as Lindsey peers over Jordan’s shoulder to see what her sister is reacting too. 

Timothee is seen walking along a large brick building with the blur of a crowd of people behind him. He wears navy hoodie and a LA dodgers baseball hat with some jeans. He has his head down trying to hide his face from prying eyes. Each of the girls throw their heads back and groan loudly towards the ceiling. They continue their journey down the hall grumbling to themselves until they reach their respective room in which they slam the door when they make it past the doorway. The front door remains slightly agar as their mom cringes at the slam of the door. Ella still stands in front of her parents, just watching her mother look back into the adjacent door. 

“I wonder what that was about,”

Ella’s mother scratches her head in confusion but return to face Ella and her husband. 

“Since this is the last family trip for awhile and your mother and I always choose, why don’t you choose where we eat dinner?”

Ella’s father looks up at her as he adjusts his glasses that now rest on the bridge of his nose. His phone remains lit as the light reflects off his glasses.  He looks at his wife who seems to agree with him.  

“Good idea John, Ell why don’t you look up where you want to eat and we all can decide what we want from there.”

Ella’s mom gives a smile as she leads the two of them inside  to the large and bright light lit kitchen. Wooden cabinets lay rest on the wall while the sliver sink and fridge reflect light off of their shiny surfaces.  Ella, her mother, and father each take their own spot on separate wooden stools that sit next to a white counter, with their backs facing the living room.  After murmuring amongst themselves at  what restaurant they want to eat at and they go through the menu naming off things they want. Ella types away on a notes app on her phone getting down everything her family picked before she picks up her phone to call. Three rings is all it takes for an employee to answer the phone. 

“Hello this is the Royal Thai what can I help you with today?”

A cheery woman’s voice answers the phone.

“Hi Uh, I’m calling to place an order for pick up.”

“Absolutely, what can I get for you this evening?”

“Could I get one Curry Pad Thai with Shrimp, three orders of steamed rice, six spring rolls, one Pad Kee Mao, two orders of Royal Gaeng Phet Khai, and an order of Breaded Shrimp. ”

Ella puts the phone on speaker on the counter as she goes down the list she and her parents put together. 

“Absolutely. It will be ready in 25 minutes to be picked up, could I please get a name for the order,” The woman questions.  

“Oh, for the name just put down Williams, thank you very much.” Ella ends the call with a sigh of relief. 

“The food is going to be ready in 20 minutes to be picked up. Do you want to leave now, or should we wait 10 minutes and then go?”

Ella asks her father who sits two sits away, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Ella’s mother had excused herself moments after Ella started the call to check up on her youngest daughters. 

“We can go now and while we are waiting we can admire the streets of LA,”

He says with a slide as he slides his hands across the white counter top to grab the sliver car keys. He tucks his phone into his shorts and rests his glasses onto the counter. 

“Honey! We will be back in a few minutes!”

Ella’s father semi-yells up the staircase of the house as he and Ella make their way to the front door. 

“Okay,” Ella’s mother voice can be faintly heard through the walls. Ella opens the front door and makes her way outside to the car with her father right behind her. Ella’s door slams shut and so does her fathers as they back out and start their journey to the best rated Thai place in town with the hum of the car engine filling the silence in the car. 

On their journey Ella becomes some captivated by her surroundings. The sky is now on the cusp of turning the peach coloured lights out and turning on the twinkling lights of burning stars a million of miles away. Ella stares out the passenger window as the reflection of street lights, car headlights, and store signs flash past her eyes. She sticks her head closer to the outside world. Her mouth agape while the cool wind pulls her hair back to stick on her seat as the scent cooking oil coming from food trucks from blocks away wharf into the car. Ella seems so at peace watching, feeling, and smelling all of Los Angeles. 

This peaceful trance is broken by a loud click of the car turn signal. She blinks and adjusts herself in her seat as they pull over to the right onto an empty side of the road. Ella and her father pull up to the curb and both lean forward to peer inside the restaurant from their position in the car. The restaurant seems to be almost empty except for only two people they can see, which is an employee and a tall, lanky man standing inside. 

“ Well look at that, there’s hardly a line inside! We will be in and out in no time.”

Ella’s father excitedly exclaims. He goes to turn off ignition and unbuckle his seat belt but Ella speaks up before he gets the chance. 

“Well since there’s barely a line, why don’t you stay in the car so when I get our order we can just turn around and head back in no time” 

Ella’s father turns his head and ponders for a moment. Looking up at the black  ceiling of the car almost looking for an answer. He makes eye contact with her again and gives her a crinkling smile, the type of smile that allows his dimples to make an appearance through his light, greying scruff. 

“Good idea Ell, ill just wait here and admire the streets of the city of angles from the comfort of this heated car.”

Ella smiles at her father and unbuckles herself from her seat. She unlocks the car as her pushes it open to slide out. Once her sandals hit the concrete she makes her way onto the side walk. The door of the car slams shut as Ella makes her way to the front door of the restaurant. A large rectangular pane of glasses rests next to the door as Ella approaches.  

The door is glass with a surrounding sliver lining. Ella pulls the door open and is met with a cool gust of air conditioning. The tiny restaurant is has small wooden tables along on the left, and right side of the room. Each line of tables ending just before the edge of the marble counter starts. The ceiling is painted a forest green while the walls are white bricks lined with black paint.  The back of the counter has large menu boards, each sectioned off into breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

A tan women with long black hair, accompanied with a couple red streaks stands on the other side of the marble counter, elbow on the counter while her chin rests in her hand. The employee is just doodling away on a napkin looking bored. Name tag hug loosely on her black shirt as she just wears some blue jeans. Ella looks to her side and notices the man her and her father had seen when they pulled up was just siting at one of the far tables, just scrolling away on his phone.  Ella doesn’t give him a second look as she makes her way up to the front counter. 

“Uh excuse me, hi. I just called in, the order name is Williams.” 

The employee looks up at Ella and drops her pen onto the counter and moves to the side to look for  Ella’s order. The rustle of paper is faint as the women digs through papers to find what shes look for. The man who was previously just been scrolling through his phone, is draw away at the sound of Ella’s voice. He pushes his phone into his pocket as he stands up. 

“Ah ha,”

The women hums when she finally finds the order she was looking for. 

“That will be $65.60, how will you be paying?”

The women says in a very uninterested, monotone voice contrary to how she sounded on the phone. 

“Uh debit please.” The employee looks back at Ella and then types away at the register as Ella reaches to her pocket to retrieve her wallet. She starts digging through each pocket of her jeans more frantically as time ticked away. Almost hoping her wallet had just gotten smaller and her pockets had gotten bigger. Her eyes start to grow bigger as her movements become more and more frantic. 

“Uh yeah, just gotta run outside to my car and get my wallet, sorry”.

Ella’s cheeks flush with a hue of pink in embarrassment as she looks at the employee with a small smile. Ella is about to turn around and head back to to the car when a mans voice speaks halts her in her movements. 

“Are you looking for this?”

A male voice breaks through the empty, but bustling Thai restaurant. Ella looks to her left as sees the guy from earlier. He still wears the same baseball hat, but he has changed into a white shirt with a small black and white logo right above his heart. His face illuminated by the dim lights in the restaurant. He stands adjacent to Ella as he presents her with her dropped wallet. She meets his eyes as she reaches for her wallet slowly. 

“How did you, ”

Ella tilts her head in confusion. “When you ran off and rightfully so, I noticed you had dropped your wallet in the alley. I thought it was to late to run after you so I thought I’d hang onto just until I could find you again.” 

He rubs the back of his neck, twirling his brown curls with his fingers as he continues,  “If I’m honest, I didn’t think I would see you again to return the wallet not knowing anything about you, but I guess here we are.”

The man laughs and smiles at Ella and she returns the gesture as she now has her wallet securely in her hands. 

“I guess we never properly introduced ourselves did we? My names Timoth- Max, its Max. And you are..?” He reaches his hand to shake and she draws her other hand forward. 

“Its Ella, nice to meet you, ”  she hesitantly takes his hand and shakes it. The two of them stare at each other as the employee looks so  unimpressed with interaction. 

“Is someone going to pay or not?” The employee clears her throat and their hands break apart as they return their attention back to the employee. 

“Oh yeah, shit sorry.” Ella goes to unzip her wallet, but Max stops her. He pulls out his Iphone form his jean pocket and taps his phone onto the debit machine paying for Ella’s dinner.  

“Max ,you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I could do after I knocked such a pretty girl off her feet.”

The two of them exchange small smiles again as they now stand awkwardly at the front counter while the employees of the Thai place bustle in the kitchen in front of them.  Three men all wearing white aprons work hard mixing and boxing up take-out meals as the female employee gets peoples orders together in large brown bags. Ella’s eyes seem to stay at the ground and her shoes and unlike Ella, ‘max’s eyes shyly look at her through his curls every few seconds that pass by.  

“So,” Max’s voice breaks Ella’s trance and her eyes to get drawn back to his. 

“Are you from uh LA or are you just visiting from out of town?”

“I’m actually just here visiting with family. We are from Canada and this is my last week before I head off to University. How about yourself, ” Ella brushes a loose hair around her ear.

 “No, I don’t live here either, I’m actually from the east coast and I do a lot of uh work in LA. I’m doing some work right now and then I get go home for the next couple months,”

“Oh nice,.” Ella nods her head as the conversation falls into comfortable silence. The sound of the air conditioner once again fill the void of conversation. 

“Order for Williams is ready!”

The silence is once again broken by the red haired employee sliding a large brown bag in a white plastic bag over the front counter. Ella leans forward and grasps the white handles of the plastic bag. She allows the bag to hang by her side as she now stands next to Max again. 

“Hey, you said this is your first time in LA right? Why don’t I show you around? I know all the hot spots, only if you want to of course. No pressure at all.”

Max puts up his hands up, almost like how he did in the alley way hours earlier, but he’s more relaxed. Ella takes a look around the empty restaurant before she meets his eyes again. 

“I haven’t really known you for that long, and I don’t really trust you just yet. You seem like a really nice guy don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t know you that well,” Ella says as she rubs her arm. 

“Well, that’s okay but,” Max leans over the counter to pull one of the restaurants colourful menu out of its slot and unfolds it. He grabs the pen abandoned on the counter and quickly writes something down, folds the menu back up, stands tall again and hands the menu to her. 

“If you ever change your mind, text that number and I’ll be a call away. See ya around,” 

Max provides a charming smile as Ella nods, “Yeah, see you around.”

Ella takes the menu and puts it into the plastic bag as she makes her way to the front door and leaves. 

“Ugh it smells so good already! Excellent choice Ell,”

her father rubs his hands excitedly and his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning as Ella opens the car door. Ella nods in agreement and she proceeds to buckle herself in while the bag of food rests on her lap. The heat from the bag warms her jean covered thighs as the sweet aromas release themselves from the brown bag. Ella reaches into the white bag for the menu Max had given her as her father pulls away from the curb. She unfolds it and what is written in blue is a phone number. A phone number with a short message, 

XXX-XXX-XXX

Have this if you ever change your mind. 

- Max

A small smile creeps onto Ella’s lips as she shoves the menu back into the bag as she returns her gaze to city of angels.

~~~~~~

taglist: @champagnesugamama​

[originofjaehyun]

Prelude: After Story | Part 3 | Make Your Day

Prelude: After Story Masterlist

Word count: 4,330

Warnings: Suggestive

Part 3 | Make Your Day

“Just by your existence, you already shine radiantly like this.”

Prev

Read Interlude: No More Drama

Tag list: @justineasian​ @elauniesdream

A/N: I started Interlude: No More Drama series back in March, and I never knew that the series would go this far. Prelude: After Story is a mini-sequel that I actually didn’t plan –since I started to write Interlude during the Neozone era and I didn’t know how they would bring the repackage album, but truthfully I’m very proud of where it is. I think it is quite interesting to see things from Yuta’s POV! 

I hope you’re not bored at this, but I wish I could convey my gratitude better. I already wrote my thank you during the end of Interlude, but I’d like to say thanks again. Really, receiving warm messages especially during the current world situation does brighten up my day. So I hope that my writings could help to entertain you, to make your day (no puns intended hahaha).

This marks the end of Interlude: No More Drama and Prelude: After Story series! I personally think this is a milestone for me as a writer (especially this is one of my first published work). In the future, I would probably go cringe when I re-read this when I’m able to write a better story, but nevertheless this is the first stepping stone and it doesn’t change the fact that I will always feel proud of this. I really like how the story unfolds and how the character develops, and I think this is the perfect closure to end the series.

Thank you for loving them, and enjoying the ride with the characters!

Much love,

Dee

The same reaction, always, whenever Yuta received a guest.

You took a moment to admire his house. It’s late, but after stepping inside, you are greeted with the large window –displaying the amazing view of the cityscape.

He took off his suit, throwing it to the armchair. “Please be comfortable. Sorry for the sudden invitation, I realized I might be slightly pushy now that I've started to sober up. I can’t believe I let a woman drive me home.”

You giggled softly. “Please, gender shouldn’t prevent you from driving safely. Anyway, you have a very nice place.”

He scoffed. “It’s humble, but I like this place. The view is very charming from here. Well, sit down, I’ll grab our glasses and some ice.”

Of course, his apartment is anything but humble. You quickly scanned the room as you make your way to where he pointed his couch is. There are weird ornaments as a part of the house decorations here and there, like a vase with Japanese ceramic technique with a single dark crimson rose and few decorations of octopuses —you never knew how those could blend in together. Nevertheless, it has its own charm and the place screams his personality.

“Here,” He passes you a glass that is filled with caramel-colored liquid. The sound of the ice touching the glass snaps you from your daydream. “It’s Hibiki 12. I hope you don’t mind whiskey?”

You accepted the glass with both of your hands. “I’m good with anything. Out of curiosity though, do you always have a Japanese liquor on hand?”

A wide grin appears on his face, showcasing the perfectly aligned teeth. “To be precise, I always have Hibiki around because they are easier to drink. I managed to snatch a bottle of champagne and bourbon, though. Do you prefer those instead?”

“Would never refuse an invitation for a bottle of good quality champagne.”

“Seems like you’re a heavy drinker, Miss. I must say I think I’m pretty good at handling my alcohol, but I want to make sure there’s no accident tonight.”

You slightly flinched at his last sentence but managed to control your expression.

“Ah, I think just normal? I could manage if we could keep the pace slow –though I’m pretty sure that’s not what you wanted tonight.”

Yuta smirked, taking a seat on the floor across you. You followed him, taking a seat near him since it would be rude for you to remain seated on the couch while the house owner is being casual and sitting on the floor.

“Actually, not really.” He said while twirling his class, taking another sip. “I was thinking of taking it slow tonight.”

You shifted your stare to see him. “Is that so.”

While you thought it was quite careless for him to invite a stranger –technically you are up until the car ride where you briefly introduce each other– to his house, you’re not the one to talk since you also waltzed into his apartment without any second thoughts.

Both of you don’t mind the silence, as he continues to spin his middle finger around the rim of his glass. Either the alcohol starts to kick in, or he is consumed by his own thoughts. His cheeks start to flushed like cherry blossoms, and his mind is in a daze.

“I–” Yuta finally breaks the silence. “Was thinking a lot about my own feelings. On the contrary to my look, I think I’m actually the type of person who feels a lot. Most of the time I decide things based on my feelings.”

You didn’t respond, so there’s a momentary pause before he bridges his story together. You didn’t respond because you didn’t pay him any attention, but you just feel like right now what he needs is to let out his feelings, bare to the table.

“When I received my invitation, I feel like the ground below my feet shattered. But at the same time, it would be rude of me to reject it when she was so excited about her wedding. I was thinking how could this person be so dense to invite me that are still wallowing in sorrow?”

You took another sip of your whiskey, keeping your mouth shut while listening to his story.

“As I entered the venue today, each and every of my step seems harder. Like, I was regretting saying yes to her invitation.”

He then looked down at his almost empty glass. “Then I saw her face. And it feels like... all the answers that I’ve been looking for was there. That today was the day where I truly feel thankful that I made that decision. I’m glad she looked happy,”

He took another sip, finishing whatever left on his glass. “I’m glad that I could end this and make it into a proper memory.”

There it is.

The man in front of you smiled when he reached the end of his sentence. But you can see how that smile was wrapped in sadness.

You know by the way he talks, he is a man full of passion. His directness that is sometimes always too spontaneous. But it’s not the blazing-type of passion. Maybe because of his past, there’s always a trail of woe that surrounds him. That keeps him from burning his surroundings.

Like a blue flame.

“I’m sorry, it must be weird to suddenly listen to my sad story,” He said as he rises up. “Let me refill your glass. Should we take other liquor? I was thinking of switching it up to wine. I didn’t lie when I said there’s no more regret, but in order for me to truly accept it, I guess I kinda need to feel my feelings? I need something to dull the pain.”

“I thought you only stole bourbon and champagne?”

“You can’t call it a Nakamoto residence without a vast amount of alcohol gallery, you know?”

Finally, a hint of delight starts to replace the somber mood. “Again, I’m a guest so I’ll take anything. For your reference, though, I’m more of a red wine person.”

He curls his lips upwards, chiseling his well-structured cheekbones, “Got it. Also, please be more comfortable. I’m the one who suddenly invites you, after all.”

As he walks toward his wine fridge, you reactively rise up, about to offer your help. You’ve been sitting on your feet for quite a while, and your legs are definitely not ready for the sudden movement. You almost slip to the ground, but as if it was a shoujo manga, Yuta manages to catch you.

“Careful!” He said as he holds your upper arm, preventing you from falling.

It feels like the universe planned this all along, as cliche as it might sound.

You get to see his face, up close. The way his eyes pull you in, glistening from the alcohol that he had consumed.

It would be a lie if you told him that you’re not attracted. How could you not? The man in front of you is obviously good looking, but his demeanor, the way his voice travels through the air.

It was all just too alluring.

You avoided of the what-could-have-happened-next scenario by breaking the eye contact, looking away. It is a different case for Yuta. Because the sight of your neck, now burning in the vibrant pink flush is like an open invitation for him.

And he is not Yuta if he is not a decisive person.

He leans in, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. A kiss you didn’t see coming, but most definitely sending electrifying feels to your spine. A kiss that is mixed with the bitterness from alcohol. Yet Hibiki is sweet, so you long for more, kissing him back in the process.

The kiss that was started gently, suddenly rises up as both of you wanting for more. He dives in, checking if you felt the same way. You reciprocated, biting his lower lips. Asking him to pace up the speed.

You thought he would gladly eat you. To your disappointment, however, he separates his lips from yours.

“Are you fine with this?”

His whispers are gentle, yet able to give you goosebumps. He knows, that even under influence he should earn your consent before moving on to the next step. That surprises you because you thought the alcohol would turn him into a beast. But Yuta remains as a gentleman.

So you shyly give him a nod of approval, much to gain his wonderful smile. He leans forward to kiss you, but this time in a much more aggressive manner.

As he trails his lips to your neck, soft moans escape from your lips.

“Wait,” You stopped him half-way, which he only responded with a confused face. “Can we, uhm, perhaps move somewhere else? I… never done this… so I don’t know if I’m doing this right,”

Seeing how nervous you are, and the way you panicked over this, Yuta couldn’t help to chuckle softly. 

“Of course, that is rude of me,” He kissed your temple, followed by gentle strokes on your head. 

“Come.”

He stands up, offering his hand in which you immediately accept. He guides you to his room. His room didn’t shy away from being loud, some might even perceive it as odd since he opts to choose eccentric pieces to decorate his sanctuary. But everything seems to mesh well together with his plain beige wallpaper. There are a few unfinished canvases at the corner, most notably a painting of roses.

You were busy admiring his room to realize that he was waiting for you at the corner of his bed. Arms wide open ready to embrace you.

You giggled at the scene, but then you remember that you fall into his arms means it won’t stop at just there.

“Can I... use your bathroom first?”

You can feel the heat collecting on your cheek. You were embarrassed to ask such a question, but Yuta understands where you are coming from in a heartbeat, and you are glad for that.

“Please,” He said, gesturing to you to find his bathroom. “But once you’re done, we’re not stopping, yeah? I think I’ve been good for being patient, don’t you think?”

You smiled at his remarks. “I’ll be quick.”

You practically skipped your way to the bathroom. You checked yourself, at least making sure you smell pleasant. Then before leaving the bathroom door, you took your time in front of the sink. Contemplating with yourself in the mirror.

You are about to fuck Yuta.

The words repeated inside your head but soon vanished at the sight of a foreign object. Not that you are used to his apartment, but everything in his apartment was coated with his character, except this dainty jewelry.

It was a delicate, simple rose gold earrings. You noticed that Yuta rocks multiple piercings on both of his ears. But none are this delicate. It seems these were too plain for his liking.

Who am I to judge?

You said to yourself. You literally just know this man tonight and you’d be damned to judge his taste. Who knows, maybe he has those days where he wants to lay low. Whenever he’s going to meet his clients, perhaps? But you feel like keeping such delicate pieces in the bathroom has a potential of him losing it, so you call him out.

“Yuta?”

He hummed as a form of reply.

“You shouldn’t keep your earrings near the sink, you know. You might wash them away by accident.”

Suddenly you can hear his footsteps, rushing. You didn’t lock the door and you are glad that you didn’t because he would probably break the door open. He rushed to grab the pair of earrings, and the color on his face fades away. The smile that once appeared on his face was no longer there.

This gains your confusion. What does a rose gold earring mean to him that he had to act this way?

A rose gold earring.

A painting of roses.

A single rose that was fresh, as if it was treated with the utmost care.

Then you remember that the sight of a rose is definitely not a stranger for you, especially the last three days.

You decorated the hall with roses.

The couple carefully selected the specific color of the roses, making the last few weeks like a nightmare looking out for the vendors.

Of course, you even arranged her bouquet with roses.

“Ah, I just like roses,” She said to you when you asked why she picked roses as one of the main flowers. “As cliché as it might sound, I think roses are one of the most stunning flowers out there. They’re beautiful but surrounded by their thorns so you got to treat them gently unless you want them to prick you. Also, I think it’s because of the roses that we’re back together.”

“Did we?” Her fiancé finally looked at her after busy playing with the ring on her fingers.

“Don’t you dare to forget you add water to my shower gel.”

You could remember the laughter vividly in your head, but the last thing that you would want right now is to laugh. 

“I get it.” You tried to act though, but there’s a crack in your voice. “I get that you just told me you were trying to forget about her a few minutes ago.”

You can feel like your vision is about to start to blur, but you took a deep breath to prevent a single tear to drop.

“I’d like to blame it on the alcohol, but I guess I’m at fault too.”

Was it the way he always smiled so brilliantly? His weird and odd taste that makes you furrow your brows the moment you step into his place? The way he comes to your shop every week to buy fresh flowers and look at them so lovingly?

Perhaps, because he could enter your heart so easily. Who knows, you might have already fallen for him the moment he requested for roses the first time you met him.

You get that you only get along well, and what are the chances that these things happen so smoothly? You’re not a princess out of a Disney movie.

He evidently holds the pair of earrings so dearly, and even though you’re not the type of person who puts your feelings on your sleeve, it is inevitable that you felt the sharp pain on your chest.

“I never do this, Yuta. And I don’t plan on doing these things, if that someone doesn’t think about me at this very moment.”

Your words startled him, and before he could speak up, you gave him your last words. “Please, don’t ever take this so lightly, especially to me.”

You walked past him, grabbing your belongings in the living room before walking outside. You are glad Yuta didn’t chase you, because it would hurt your pride if he knows that you cried a river when you walk your way to your car.

--

It’s nearly a week since you closed your flower shop. This is your business and to be frank you are still upset about what happened after the wedding party. The newlyweds paid a hefty amount of money so you can survive a bit without operating. Though, this small shop that is also connected to your home upstairs will need to open soon in order for you to be able to pay your bills. Furthermore, your love for flowers is far too great for you to leave them without any attention. 

You closed your shop, telling your customers (especially your regulars) and putting a sign in front of the shop that you will be back after a week of break. You also told Mark that he wouldn’t need to come. He accepted it without pressing for further questions, but it’s so like Mark to make sure you’re alright.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t need to pay for my shift this week either.”

“Are you sure? I was thinking I could give you half of it.”

“No, I wouldn’t feel good taking money without putting any effort into it. But most importantly, you sure you’re fine, Noona?”

You sighed in relief, glad that Mark is well-raised and how he always cares about the people around him. “I’m fine, Mark. I think the wedding frenzy got the best of me, so I was thinking of having a short break so I could have a fresh start.”

“Well, it was overwhelming, not gonna lie,” Mark said as he recalled how he helped you prepare for his brother’s and new sis wedding. “I guess if you say so. Please if there’s anything I could do to help, let me know Noona.”

You replied with a simple yes, throwing your phone to the bed after you ended the call.

The past week, all you’ve been doing is to wake up early in the morning, tend the flowers, eat your breakfast, and go straight to nap. It’s a bad habit, yes, but that is how you cope with sadness.

Sad? Am I entitled to feel so?

You only know Yuta briefly, he is a regular. The fact that you know that he’s a Japanese before he told you so is probably trivial to him.

“We’re out of camellias, I’m terribly sorry sir.”

“Do you know when the next batch will come?”

“Unfortunately camellias are not in season, so it will take a while for us to restock it.”

He sighed, then he looked at his wristwatch. It seems like he doesn’t have that much time to browse the catalog.

“Is there a reason why you’re looking for camellias?”

“Ah, not really. It reminds me of home. I just came back from there last week. I thought of getting roses, but I changed my mind.”

“Home?”

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t from here. I’m a Japanese, you see.”

“Oh! I didn’t notice.”

He shyly scratched the back of his head, still not used to people complimenting his bilingual ability. You find his reaction charming, unconsciously giggling at it.

“Then, sir, I assume you’re in a hurry. May I give you a suggestion?”

“How do you know I was in a hurry?”

“Well it was easy since you immediately asked for camellia and looked at your watch the moment I told you we don’t have one.”

He lets out a smile. A smile so warm that sunflowers might face toward his direction immediately. “Indeed, I have to meet someone this evening. So your help will actually good for my favor. I was thinking of buying flowers for my dining table, do you have any suggestions?”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “I think buttercups would be perfect.”

—

Yuta has been thinking a lot about what happened last Saturday.

Especially how he should talk to her.

It’s easy to spot her store, Yuta and Doyoung practically passed by it every single morning on their way to the office. The sun hits the flower store perfectly. Not too harsh, just a bask of the golden ray. Usually, he would see how the beautifully bloomed flowers were displayed on the store windows. But it’s already day six and the store shows no sign of operations.

He reads the announcement board in front of the store; “Paradise will be closed for an inventory check. We will be back to serve you next week!”

He feels dejected. Yuta couldn’t just ask Mark for her number, that would have raised so many questions. Yes, Yuta kissed her, but was their relationship that close for him to ask for her number? The fact that both of them are not sober is also a part of Yuta’s concern.

So instead, Yuta planned to visit the florist (especially since he’s been skipping buying flowers for a week —his vase longed to be filled with any arrangement) as an excuse to meet her. But now he even lost that very reason.

He was about to step away before a tune leaked out from the front door.

Someone is here.

Without hesitation, Yuta knocked on the front door. The one inside, however, did not expect any visitor. Yuta can hear how the person inside scrambles their way to open the door.

“Yes?”

She lets out a professional smile, and it fades almost instantly as soon as she sees Yuta standing in front of her door.

“Hi.”

“Yuta!” She closes her mouth, surprised that she shrieked. “Uhm, I… didn’t expect you to come. But our store is currently close, so if you’re looking for flowers, unfortunately we—“

“I want to talk to you.”

Again, it’s so very Yuta to cut to the chase.

“I want to clarify a few things.”

She finally looked at him. She tried to remain calm, keeping the expressionless upfront. But Yuta could see how her pupils were quivering. She was trying to be brave.

“I’d like to apologize for three things. One, the way I reacted at that time. It was only mere minutes after I said that I’m truly happy for her. As a human being, don’t you think it’s understandable that I reacted that way?”

She nods but remained silent.

“I’m typically an extrovert, but I’m very territorial with my personal space, and I let her go beyond the lines that I created. In a way, she is precious to me.”

This time, she didn’t respond.

“And she would probably always be. But that doesn’t mean I could only have one precious person in my life.”

She furrowed her brows, and Yuta smirked as he continued.

“After that night, I think a lot about my feelings. How I truly felt.” He scratches the back of his head that is not itchy, but because it takes a lot for Yuta to bare his feelings like this while being sober.

“And the answer remains the same. I genuinely feel happy for her. So I thought, it would only be right to properly keep everything away, little by little instead of throwing it away out of anger. Forcing myself to move on from her. Because I, too believe –as narcissistic as this might sound, that I was a part of a chapter in her life that she holds dear too. It might be slow progress, but I will get there, eventually.”

“Secondly, I apologize for not apologizing for kissing you that night. There is no regret, the attraction is mutual anyway.”

She tilted her head, before realizing what Yuta actually meant. “Wait, you knew?”

He chuckles. “Going back to Osaka was the turning point. Probably everything that I need. It forces me to start fresh, exactly like what I did when I first set foot in this country. It let me accept that I’m actually the type of person who feels a lot. Like how I admit that I’m hopelessly romantic.”

The cold atmosphere starts to melt away, with the addition of the sun seeps in between the leaves on the nearby tree.

“So afterward I’ve been looking into subjects that I never knew I would be interested in, for example, flower languages. Might be the very first reason why I came to receive buttercups from this place.”

“So what you said…”

“Well, I guess I can say my third and last apology. I’m sorry that I am a hopeless romantic kind of guy. I’m very direct, people often told me that I intimidate them sometimes just by doing nothing. But it is just my outer shell. I might not be as strong as the way people view me. Now that you know, it might put you off, huh.”

She finally laughs, “Yuta, I am a florist. This is my field.”

As if her laugh is contagious, Yuta too, unconsciously smiling back.

“I guess, it’s been quite a journey. At least for me. Maybe I’m the one who holds onto the feelings, thinking that I should hold into it for as long as I could possibly can. But life doesn’t work that way, you know? And probably the time you gave me daffodils is one of the signs, too. I just brushed them off because of my stubbornness.”

“Maybe, just maybe, I want to start seeing life as it is. To enjoy the present. To enjoy life as moments. To experience the wonderful charm of its magic. One of the magical moments started here, and I love to cherish them while the magic is still here. In fact, it’s been a long time since things are going smoothly for me. So if I can be ever so selfish, would you let me?”

She was stunned by his remarks. Eyes blinking rapidly, completely unprepared for his sudden proposal.

Yuta had expected it. It’s barely a week, and to receive this kind of confession —although not necessarily a boyfriend-girlfriend confession— from a man who just told you his grief can be confusing.

The confused face started to fade, and she left without replying to a single word. 

Yuta thought she rejected him, asking him to leave the shop.

Well, you deserve this, Nakamoto.

As he was about to walk away, she came back with anthuriums on her hand. Taking a moment to catch for her breath as she was rushing to grab these flowers.

“This is?”

“You don’t want an answer?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, yes I told you I’ve been learning about flower languages but it’s mostly from Google, and I can’t possibly remember the meaning of every single flower?”

“I can.”

“You are a florist, my dear.”

She laughed lightly, a tone that was like jiggles of bells to Yuta’s ears.

“Can you move closer? I want to whisper these words to you.”

Yuta motioned to her immediately, obediently following her request. As her lips almost touch his ear, Yuta can feel his blood rushing to his ears.

She said, gently to his ears. “I hope you’ll be happy today.”

[lemonlushff-iy]

Read parts 1-3 here

One Last Ride - Part Four

Kagome picked up another smooth, small, flat rock and tossed it, skipping it down the creek behind the Takahashi's house. It only made two jumps this time. She hadn't realized she was as rusty as she clearly was.

Dinner had been a...strained affair. Inuyasha's father, Touga, had been a bit more receptive to her presence. Probably since both he and his eldest son, Sesshomaru, had known that she was around. Seeing her mash a bowl of potatoes in their kitchen probably didn't give them as big a shock as his mother seeing her hold two glasses of water.

Frankly, Sesshomaru had been practically giddy when they came in. Probably because he was excited to see how her presence would torment his brother.

The mashing was actually a perfect activity for her. It gave her a chance to take out some of her aggression about fucking Kikyo. And everything else. But especially Kikyo.

She was a good woman, huh?

Bull. Fucking. Shit.

What the hell made her a good woman? One good enough for Inuyasha? Was it because she was the history teacher at the highschool? Was it because she went to church every Sunday and led the children's service? Was it because she had been trying to suck his dick since they hit puberty?

She smashed the masher down so hard that she almost broke the glass bowl at the thought, causing everyone to shoot her an odd look. She smiled weakly and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, apologizing as they made jokes about she-hulk.

Her mind wouldn't shut up though..and Kagome quickly found herself thinking about Kikyo again. She was finally getting her chance, huh? Kikyo was finally getting her grubby little paws all over her Inuyasha.

Only...he wasn't hers...and she hadn't had a claim over him in years.

She had needed a moment to compose herself after that, and excused herself to use the bathroom. She stood over the sink, her arms braced on either side of the white porcelain as she just...opened her heart.

He had every right to move on.

He had every right to find happiness with someone else.

She just didn't think that it would hurt this much...but...he had been a huge part of her life for ten years. Since they were kids. She had been so stupid to think it wouldn't be this bad.

She felt tears gathering at her lashes, spilling over and down her cheeks as she heard his father tell Inuyasha to let her be. Great. Let's add that to the mix. They knew she was crying. Stupid dog demons and their sense of smell. She couldn't have one moment to gather herself together in privacy?

She quickly splashed some water onto her face and cheeks, trying to get rid of the most recent thing to completely humiliate her. She opened the door and ran smack into Inuyasha's chest, not expecting to see him there at all.

"Inuyasha?" she questioned, unable to look him in the eye, and she gasped when she felt his hand on her cheek. His thumb gently glided over her, feeling the cool residue of the water against her skin. The heat from his hand was soothing...and soul crushing all at the same time.

"You've been crying," he whispered, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"I'm fine," she dismissed, forcing herself to not turn her head into his palm and nuzzle his hand. His skin was so calloused now...but it felt so good. A working man's hands. Nothin like her ex "pet cat" Zach's hands.

"Hm…" he replied, searching her face before coming to a decision. "Kagome...Pops and Sessh are back. I can easily take you to your mom's and come by later with the car. If this is…" he sighed, lowering his hand from her cheek and running it through the fringe of his bangs. "If bein' here is too much or too hard, you don't hafta. It's pretty clear you've been avoiding...this the last seven years. You don't hafta stop now just 'cause fate made your car break down in front of our land."

"I think Ford made my car break down, not fate," she shrugged, and a smile tugged at his lips.

"You slandering a good American made car, Higurashi?"

"Or an anti-semite. Take your pick."

"You and your causes," he tsked. "They still make the best damn truck I've ever been in. Doesn't mean I gotta like the man."

"As I recall you don't like a lot of people."

His eyes filled with sorrow and he stuck his hands into his pockets, shrugging.

"Probably 'cause a lotta people don't like me."

"I did," she whispered softly, and he looked away from her.

"You always were the exception to the rule, Kagome. All of 'em."

"Inuyasha—"

"—Well? What do ya wanna do? Dinner or home, Kagome. No one is gonna twist your arm either way."

"I...I'll stay. I want to stay. If you're ok with it."

"'Course I am."

Now, she was skipping rocks in the stream waiting for Inuyasha to get a gallon of water together so they could go and check on the rental.

"Beena while since anyone skipped rocks out here," Inuyasha called, coming to stand beside her, jug of water in hand.

"No? You don't do this anymore?"

"Not since...not since you left," he replied hesitantly, dropping the water by their feet and picking up a rock, absently palming it as he looked out over the water. "I wonder if I even can still," he mused before wiping his arm back and flicking the rock forward. It bounced once before it sank and he let out a disappointed sound. "Guess not."

"Might have been a bad stone too, you know," she shrugged. "Why don't you try again?"

He gave her a wry smile but picked up another one, repeating the same movements as before and the rock sank.

"Ooff...Takahashi...how was that even worse than before?"

"Another bad fucking rock," he chuckled, but leaned down and grabbed a small handful, giving her one. "You think you can do better?"

"I know I can," she smirked, flicking her rock and getting two bounces out of it. She turned to face him, throwing her arms up into the air and doing a little victory dance.

"Oh yeah? That's how you wanna play this?"

"You better believe it," she crowed, and she watched as he wound his arm back like a pitcher before letting it loose. It bounced three times before sinking, and he shot her a smirk.

"Guess I'm just rusty," he shrugged, and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't get too cocky - you only did that the one time so far."

"Yeah? I bet I can do it again."

"Oh you do, do you?"

"Sure do," he smirked, tossing another rock, and it bounced three times again. "Man...this takes ya back, don't it?" he grinned. "Remember how we used to do this as kids?"

"We have a lot of good memories at this crick. Like the time you thought you could run away from home by walking through this thing to my house? All ten damn miles? Your dad tracked you down...what...twenty minutes after you showed up soaking wet?"

"I didn't want to do my chores," he shrugged.

"As good a reason as any," she conceded and he laughed, watching as she tossed another stone up the creek.

"What about the summer we were obsessed with pirates? And the one we learned about the gold rush?"

"Oh god, we were soaked all summer! Your mom was good humored about it all at least. Didn't mind us borrowing all of her pots and pans to go panning for gold."

"Is that what you remember?" he snorted. "'Cause I remember having my butt whooped and being made to wash alla them."

"No! She did?" she laughed. "Well...I guess I can't blame her. They would have been filthy."

"Filthy would be putting it lightly," he chuckled, tossing another rock. It bounced four times this time, and she applauded him.

"Alright Takahashi. Not bad."

"You bet your ass! That was pretty damn good! There's no way you can beat that."

"You think so?" she smiled, grabbing a few more and tossing one. Two bounces.

"See?"

"Yeah...well...that's because we're not betting on anything right now."

"So it takes a bag for warheads to make you really competitive?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Oh my...Yes! I forgot that's what we used to use! That's what those little sour candies were called! And then we'd separate them into colors, and the winner got first pick...which really meant all of the black ones?"

"You do remember!" he grinned, tossing a rock into the air once before swinging his arm and bouncing it three times.

"Of course I remember. God...what were the rules? Who ever got the most bounces out of twenty was the winner?"

"Sounds right," he nodded as she tossed one in. "Then we stopped playing for candy," he continued solemnly. "We started playing for kisses instead. Then we just...stopped playing."

"Inuyasha—"

"—Hey. Crazy thought. Let's play one more time. Best outta three. Winner...winner gets to ask a question and the loser has to answer it honestly."

"Sounds dangerous…"

"Less dangerous than when we used to play for kisses?"

"Depends on your definition of dangerous," she replied casually, palming the rock as she mulled his proposition over. She was nervous about what he might ask her. There was a cornucopia of sticky, awkward questions he could choose from...but she really wanted a few answers herself. "Fine," she finally decided. "You've got yourself a deal. But...No saving your question. You have to ask it now, deal?"

"Fair enough," he grinned, tossing the first rock, and she cringed when it bounced five times.

"I thought you were rusty?"

"Guess it's like riding a bike," he smirked. "Go on. It's your turn now, Kagome," he prodded and she silently swore.

Two bounces, and two more throws later, and she was the clear loser. She watched him do a small little victory lap around her, jumping up and down before coming to stand back by the gallon of water that sat forgotten by their feet.

"Alright, alright…" she chuckled. "Stop gloating and ask me your question," she prodded, crossing her arms over her chest.

She almost regretted saying it. All of the light drained from his eyes as soon as he was reminded of the question in his mind. He opened his mouth to ask, then snapped it shut, almost as if second guessing himself.

"What's your favorite color?" he finally asked, and she gaped at him, shocked.

"I...you know what my favorite color is, Inuyasha," she replied, her head tilting slightly to the side as her brows knit together.

"It's beena while. It coulda changed."

"It hasn't…It's still green..."

"Well then. Guess I know now. We should get over to that rental," he prodded, bending down to pick up the jug of water and lead her towards the truck in silence.

They both knew that wasn't what he had really wanted to ask...she just...she just wasn't sure if she wanted to pry. She closed the door as he started the ignition and buckled in, the jug of water in the flat bed behind them. Some new country song she couldn't identify immediately started blaring on the radio, and he stuck his arm out the window, tapping the side of the truck to the beat of the music.

Clearly, it wasn't new to him.

"Do you still like country?" she heard him ask after a minute. "Didn't even think to ask if this was fine. I know it's not as popular out in California."

"Would you stop saying California like that?"

"Like what? That's how I say California."

"No it's not," she insisted, shaking her head. "That's how you talk if you're about to vomit from bad cheese."

"Guess the real question should be why I ate bad cheese...and why you know what that sounds like. You eating bad cheese out in California?" he asked, over emphasising his disdain of the state as he spat the word out.

"No...I'm not eating bad cheese in California. It's just a state, same as anywhere else."

He slammed his foot on the break, making them shoot forward from inertia and she heard the jug of water smack into the side of the truck bed.

"California is not the same as anywhere else. Don't you dare say that, Higurashi. How can you say that, with all them city folk buying up our land to pretend they can be a rancher for the summer? They like the fantasy of who we are. Not the reality."

"But they're hiring peop—"

"—Do not try to defend them. You hear me? Don't you dare start with me, Higurashi."

"Ok," she whispered. It wasn't worth arguing over. She forgot how small minded he could be sometimes. How he could be so...wrapped up in this life that he didn't see the more global picture.

"Glad we're clear," he nodded, removing his foot from the break and back to the gas so the truck could slowly start accelerating again.

"So…" she began awkwardly after a moment. "You and Kikyo, huh?"

"Whatta 'bout it?"

"Nothing. Just... didn't seem that into her when we were younger."

"Didn't really see her back then."

"And you do now? When did that happen?"

He let out a deep sigh as her rental came into view, the setting sun washing over the silver and making it glow. Inuyasha put the car into park, turning off the engine and drummed his fingers against the wheel in thought.

"You really wanna have this conversation Kagome?" he finally asked, turning to shoot her an uncertain look.

"I'm curious," she shrugged weakly, failing at looking nonchalant. "Besides. You know all about Zach."

"So the pet cat has a name," he whistled. "Bet he's a pretty boy too. Those cat demons normally are. Lemme guess - green eyes? Blond hair? Perfectly quaffed wavy locks?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes. And we aren't together anymore anyways - we broke up a few weeks ago."

He blinked hard at her words as they seemed to roll around in his head.

"Now what did he do ta make ya end it with him?"

"Who says I ended it?" she snapped.

"Nothing. Just a gut feeling."

"Well I didn't so...so there!"

His face softened and he actually looked empathetic instead of like he was going to rip her throat out.

"Kagome...I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. I'm fine with it. We weren't meant to be, and it wasn't a good relationship. I mean, it was...but...it wasn't, you know?"

He nodded his head, silently gripping and relaxing his fingers around the wheel as he exhaled loudly.

"Still. I know how hard that is."

"Because of us?"

"You aren't the only woman I've ever dated, Kagome," he smiled wryly.

Why did that surprise her? It shouldn't.

"I know. You're with Kikyo now."

"I dated others before her too...and I think 'with' is a bit of a strong word."

"Then how would you describe it?"

"I'd describe it as none of your business."

She sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt, shaking her head as she moved to open the door. It was open only a crack before he reached over her and closed the door again. He cupped her cheek and turned her face to look at him, his face soft.

"Listen," he began with a long exhale, lowering his hand, "Kikyo 'n I are just talking. We've never even kissed. Hell, we've been on maybe two dates, depending on how ya look at it. And as for when I started to see her…" he paused and she watched him bite the inside of his lip before confessing. "Kagome, I never saw anyone other than you since the day you kissed me after I broke my arm. I was like a horse with blinders on. And then when you left...they stayed on for a real long time, until I just...woke up one day and they were finally off.

But, you don't...you don't get to be upset that there's a woman out there who likes me, got it? I offered you everything...and everything wasn't good enough for ya. It's good enough for someone else though, and you don't get to be upset over that, ok?"

She wanted to tell him it had been...She wanted to tell him that everything he had offered her was enough. She just hadn't been ready.

"And you don't get to be upset over who I date either," she replied instead, not wanting to pour salt on the still open wound.

He pursed his lips together and nodded his head in agreement.

"I don't. What's in the past should stay there...and we should both just...move on."

"Glad we agree," she replied tightly, reopening the door and he followed suit, walking around to the bed of the truck and pulling out the water jug. He made quick work of tending to her rental, pouring the water in and she pulled out the keys, hopping in and waiting for his signal to start it up.

"Why dontcha give it a go?" he prompted, and the engine rumbled to life again. He quickly closed the hood, backing away from the front and walking over to the side. "Sounds like ya should be fine. You got real lucky this time. Don't you start doubting Fords," he smiled weakly, and she returned it.

"I won't."

"Listen," he breathed slowly, nervously. "I...I just want you to take care of yourself. Ok?"

"This sounds a lot like goodbye again, Inuyasha," she mused, and he lowered his gaze.

"Aint it?"

Was it? Did she want it to be?

"I guess it is…" she whispered, glancing away from him. "Goodbye, Inuyasha. You take care of yourself too. I hope you're happy. Truely. With Kikyo or any of the others. You deserve to be."

She turned her head away from him and pulled her car out of park, shifting the gear into drive. She was about to step on the gas when she felt two clawed hands gently grab her face, pulling it out of the window.

She gasped and her eyes widened in surprise before closing when she felt his lips tenderly press against hers in a soft, lingering kiss before he pulled away. The feel of his lips against hers...it was just as she remembered it. Only she didn't remember this painful aching in her chest when they had kissed in the past...Or this horrible need to grab ahold of his neck to bury her face into his chest and just cry.

"Just wanted to do that one last time," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear, almost as if he were ashamed of himself. Of still wanting her. Of wanting what they once had. What they could have been.

It felt so final. Like they were finally closing the book, sealing it shut with glue, and tossing it into a fire so it could never be looked at again, let alone read.

She could only nod and whisper goodbye again before pulling away as twilight began to settle around them, heading down the road to her mother's...the feel of his lips on hers haunting her the whole way.

____________________

I’ve given up. This is me waving the white flag. But I don’t think I can keep doing daily posts...And I do want to have SOME stuff to post on White Day! And I hope you heathens are happy! I’ve been told this one didn’t hurt as much as the last....3 😬

Special thanks to @superpixie42 for helping me make sure Inuyasha’s dialect isn’t becoming too southern/Texan!

Wall of tags! Let me know if you want in or out!

(If you get tagged in this post after requesting tags, it’s because that’s how I’m keeping track of them. If you requested a tag and aren’t there, I might not have seen it so please ask again!)

@clearwillow, @keichanz, @dangerouspompadour, @nartista, @kaze-ranna, @superpixie42, @sticky-llama-perfection, @pinkpigeonstudio, @mcornilliac, @itzatakahashi, @zelink-inukag, @juliatheanimelover7, @csim28, @smmahamazing, @the-lucky-ones311, @cyncyn981, @animemomma96, @ayari17, @underwater0phelia, @sailorbabydoll92, @l-taisho29, @clearwillow, @animelove1313 

[jooniesmind]

Whispering Shadows pt.2

Pairing: Park jimin x Jung Hoseok

Genre: supernatural, ghost whisperer!Jimin, ghost!Hoseok, angst

Word Count: 2k

previous

A/N: Little disclaimer, the pairings in this series are going to be platonic! Thank you for reading, enjoy! 

It must’ve been a few weeks after Jimin’s encounter with that young ghost. He didn’t really leave the house after that, the feeling he was left with was crushing him. It honestly felt like he killed that boy. He couldn’t stop thinking about his poor sister, what she might’ve gone through. He contacted the neighborhood’s active Ghost whisperer about it, asking him what he’s supposed to do with ghosts. “Everyone’s job is different, you have to find what your part is in this”. Jimin groaned as he tried to get comfortable in his bed. Bullshit, he whispered to himself. He kicked his blankets off and headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. It was almost lunch time. He poured that black coffee that somehow resembled his soul in his reusable cup –yes, we are eco friendly- and headed out.

It was a shitty day. It would rain soon and of course he didn’t bring an umbrella with him. He sighed and kept on walking, his target being a little kiosk at a park nearby. As he was making his way –downtown- at a gradually faster pace, he bumped into someone and knocked them over. He cringed at himself and turned to face the person on the ground. It was a man, around his age. He helped him up as he noted that he was wearing basically rags and half of his clothes were destroyed. As soon as the stranger held his hand, he realized. Ah shit, here we go again. This time he tried to be just a tiny bit more rational about it

“Hello” he said softly as the first drops of rain started hitting his round glasses “Are you okay?”

“Uh, hi,” the stranger looked at him in awe “I think so”

“Do you know where you are?” He asked with a smile

“I’m not sure. I think I’m dead” he didn’t seem upset by it, just surprised

Jimin chuckled “You seem pretty chill about it”

“Chill?” his eyes got wide at the unknown expression

He sighed “Well, if you keep going in that direction you’ll find someone who can help you. See ya”

Without waiting for any kind of answer, he turned around and started walking again, leaving the wondering ghost to, well, wonder. Few moments later he felt cold hands grabbing his as softly as possible and he jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air. He turned around out of breath and looked at the young man

“What is it?”

“I’m so sorry” the ghost seemed so sad, Jimin almost felt bad under all the raging fear that ran through his whole spine “I can’t walk”

Jimin looked down. He was barefoot and his feet looked badly injured, as if he had walked in hot charcoal. What the fuck kind of testing is this. Could ghosts even feel pain? Was he being ghostphobic? That’d be a dickmove. He turned around and heard a small whimper from the ghost that thought was being left all alone. Jimin lowered a bit his body

“Hop on” he said waiting

The ghost obliged and climbed on his back. Jimin lifted him and started walking as the ghost literally wrapped himself around him like a koala. He was skinny. It was in that moment that a weird smell started creeping up on Jimin but he ignored it and walked under the rain. As he was approaching his destination, he could feel the ghost on his back tense up.

“I’m sorry” he whispered

“It’s my job” Jimin replied and came off maybe a bit too aggressive “I wouldn’t let you out there, you’re here for help and I’m the only one that can provide that help right now”

Silence again. What a weird ghost. He took out his phone and dialed the only number that he knew could help him at the moment

“You’ve reached the one and only-“

“Shut up Chan, I need your help”

“Well well well, look who’s back for more” the playful voice teased

“Why are you like this”

“Trauma, mostly”

“Well I need you to come here”

“Oh how the turns have tabled”

“Chan-“

“Do I have to rescue you, Mochi?”

“Bang Christopher Chan-“

“mom-?”

“Meet me at the kiosk you fucking idiot”

The ghost now seemed interested in what just happened. Jimin smiled and tried to explain as best as he could. By the time the ghost kind of got the essence of cell phones, they arrived at the kiosk. Jimin let the young man down and he sat on one of the big benches. The whisperer took his coffee out of his unreasonably big inner pocket and placed it on the little table, taking a good sip so that he’d be able to stomach what he was about to hear. But his nose was faster. In a closed space now he could clearly smell the burnt flesh and the smoke and blood. His expression became concerned as the ghost hadn’t taken his eyes off of the floor

“What’s your name bud?” really? Bud? How much lamer can you get?

He seemed to think about it for a bit “Hoseok” he concluded “Jung Hoseok. But my friends call me Hobi”

“My name is Park Jimin” he tried to keep calm but his voice cracked. Realizing that he essentially carried a corpse for two miles was making him sick to his stomach and the coffee wasn’t helping

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asked him

“I’m fine” he lied “I’m just not good at this yet” he continued through gritted teeth

“Oh..”

The silence made everything worse. Jimin wasn’t the one to make a big scene but he couldn’t handle ghosts, he just couldn’t. Hoseok looked young and scared and his empathy overcame his fear for a bit but that smell was punching him in the face repeatedly and he felt like he was about to have an anxiety attack

“I like your glasses”

Everything stopped. He looked up and saw the friendly ghost smile at him. And upon taking a better look, he tried, god he tried so hard not to show him how bad he felt. The edges of his hair were burnt, his nails were black, the skin of his neck a bright pink like an open wound

“What happened?” he managed to ask

The ghost’s smile dropped “Right” he said as if he had forgotten for a bit “I was a witch” he blurted out and tried to smile “I lived in a peaceful village. I don’t remember its name but it was beautiful. I lived with a family that wasn’t mine. Mother always said that they abandoned a miracle. She’s the only one that loved me” he started scratching the table nervously “One day, father said that we should try to cultivate that year because it was a blessed year as he said. I advised him against it, because my stones and pendulums said that the ground was poisoned and all the money would be lost. I told him that we should leave, that that land had something bad in it. But well..” he stopped

“He didn’t believe you” Jimin mumbled

“Everything died. Everything he planted died, even the animals. His kids started getting sick. He blamed me for it” he smiled at Jimin’s shocked expression “He said I poisoned the land and that I’m a spawn of evil. They told the village that I was a witch,” he choked up on his tears and Jimin really didn’t know what to do “I was just trying to help,” he said while his face was buried in his hands “I didn’t want them to lose their money and my siblings to get sick,” he was now sobbing, his voice getting louder “I just wanted to help them but they never believed me. Even mother stood in silence as they tied me up on top of woods and oil and-“

Jimin quickly put his hands between his hair and placed his forehead on the other’s head. The smell made him choke and tear up even more but this wasn’t about him

“This is enough, Hoseok” he softly said “You did nothing wrong, you just found yourself among the wrong people” he sat back down and the other looked up, tears running down his cheeks, his white eyes piercing right through him “You’re safe now, okay? It’s all over. No more pain, no more fear, no more suffering. You’re safe”

They remained silent for a bit to calm down

“Jimin?” Hoseok asked

“Yes, Hobi?”

“I didn’t deserve to die, did I?” he wasn’t angry. He was just so deeply, immensely sad. He looked devastated, as if he blamed himself

Jimin smiled “Of course not. People can be monsters sometimes. That isn’t your fault. And that doesn’t mean that no one will ever love you. The right people will give you the right love”

“It’s too late now”

He smiled even more at that “Someone told me that I have a very pretty face and that they recognize me from somewhere they couldn’t really remember. So make sure to recognize me next time we meet, okay?”

His eyes grew wide and smiled as Jimin could see his feet slowly fading away “I’ll try my best!” he said cheerfully “Thank you so much Jimin. Although you lied to me”

Hoseok’s hands started fading away rapidly as Jimin looked at him confused “What?”

“You said you’re not good at this”

His smile faded away, leaving Jimin alone in the room. He remained silent for a while, staring into the void with no emotion or thought running through his brain, when he heard a familiar voice

“Jimin?”

He looked at Chan for a second before getting up and stumbling outside the kiosk to empty his already not so full stomach. His friend –were they even friends?- ran his hand on his back, helping him maintain balance. A few minutes later he was done throwing up and sighed while still bent on his knees. Chan gave him a wet tissue and shuffled his hair

“Rough one kiddo?” he asked as the other one stood straight

“I’m older than you” he mumbled and made sure that his blond hair hadn’t gotten caught in the crossfire

“You always so grumpy?” he sounded annoyed but they both knew he wasn’t really

“Most of the time”

“So a witch?” he looked into the kiosk “That smell is really something huh”

“Tell me about it, I carried him all the way here”

“You’re getting better at this. What is it, your fifth one?”

Jimin gave him a side glare “Second”

“Second? And you didn’t fuck up? You’re a natural”

“I did fuck up” he sat on a rock nearby, not wanting to go into the kiosk any time soon “I basically told him that there’s a next life”

Chan stared at him for a while “And the problem is? Bitch no one knows that the fUck happens after those poor souls leave this earth for good, so you giving them hope that most people already have is not a bad thing”

“But-“

“No, you did good. I’m positive that there’s a next life, okay? I know there is”

“Whatever dude”

Chan sighed “Well, do as you please, but just know that ghosts demanding you to help escape is not random”

“How did you-“

“Bye!” he said as he was already walking away

“Fucking weirdo” he mumbled as he checked his phone

He had one message from his professor at university. He groaned and opened it

“Hello

Jimin, I understand that you’re going through some personal issues, but our curriculums still run and the exchange students will be here soon. You were assigned to host one of them, right? They’ll be late of a few days due to some complications in their transportation, they were supposed to arrive tomorrow on boat but they’ll come next week by plane, so we will have to go to the airport if that’s okay with you. That’ll be all”

[daryls-dixon-antoni]

Chapter 9.) Still

Daryl and I run from some of the dead and out through some bushes, and once we get outside into a clearing I notice a car. I motion to the trunk; as I rush to the front to pop the trunk. Daryl gets the idea, and as thunder rumbles overhead helps me get in, he hops in after me and then closes the trunk amd ties it with an old red oil rag.

The thunder rumbles overhead as the dead start pounding and shaking the car.

I feel my chest clenching painfully, and try to breathe through any on coming panic attacks. Daryl notices, and uses one arm to pull me up so that I'm in between his legs, basically laying ontop of the poor man, my back to his chest. He holds his crossbow in one hand and me with the other. I clench my eyes shut and we stay like this all night.

I guess I fell asleep, because I wake up to him moving and notice the trunk filled with sunlight.

But the car isn't moving, and I can't hear any growls around us, so I undo the trunks hood, and we both climb out, I immediately stretch out, my whole body sore from the confined sleeping quarters we'd shared. Daryl comes out after me; and we both start rummaging through the car. Grabbing the things we might need. We do this all in silence. Not a word has been spoken between us since our spat.

As we walk, he begins hunting for food whilst I build us a fire. Then together we make clankers for if the dead get too close to our camp.

Daryl skins the rattle snake he catches; and I cook it on the fire.

Once it's finished, we sit down to eat, and it's honestly not too bad. But I'm getting restless, I need to find my boy. Dead or alive, I need to know. "We need to go," I say.

He ignores me, just like before. "Seriously, I need to find Mason. I have to." He continues ignoring me, so again, I get up and leave by myself.

I walk right towards a small heard of the dead. Of course, just my luck. I throw a stone to try to draw them in the opposite direction, and it works.

Or at least I think it did, until a twig snaps behind me. I spin around, knife at the ready, only to find Daryl. I breathe a sigh of relief, before he turns around and starts walking back to camp.

I think we're going back to pack up, but he sits back down.

"Fuck you!" I snap, turning back around to leave once more, why I even followed this jackass to begin with, I'll never know.

I hear him move, saying, "Hey, you had your fun!" and he grabs my arm, so I pull it out of his grasp.

"I'm not looking for fun, you asshole! All I want is to find my son. To see if he made it and you're just so damn content playing camp; but I'm not! We can't be the only one's who survived, so fuck you! Fuck your negative attitude; I'm going to find my damn son; enjoy your camping trip," I turn on my heels and storm away, pissed off as hell. What a fucking jerk! It isn't long before I hear him come trudging after me. I almost hate myself for feeling relieved.

We make it out of the trees again to see a big golf course, "Someone from the prison could be holding up in there." I point out.

I make my way to the building.

Once we hit the entrance, I hear thunder rumbling over head again and I cringe, I hate thunder storms.

It takes some jimmying but eventually Daryl is able to unlock the locked entrance door.

When we walk in we notice someone had made a mess of the place, and there are dead hanging from the ceilings. People who'd tried to commit suicide. More dead people are laying around the floor.

I notice Daryl shoving money and jewels into a bag, and I watch on confused until we hear the dead pounding on the entrance doors trying to get in.

"Come on," Daryl says as we rush throuth another set of doors that he slams behind us.

I start looking around for anything that we could possibly need later on, flashlights that Daryl had found in the first room turned on as we both search the country club. There has to be food somewhere, I think before I feel one of the dead grab me from behind, the guy dressed as a barkeep. I struggle to take out my knife, and stab the guy right threw the top of his head; ceasing his movements. I turn to see Daryl staring at me.

He shakes his head and just walks the other way without a word.

There's a point where we have to army crawl our way under a knocked over dresser of some sorts, and then we end up in a clothing store. One of the dead was placed on a manican with a sign that reads RICH BITCH on it.

We go through yet another door and just as we pass an old antique grandfather clock; it goes off, spooking us both.

"Okay," Daryl says, and then we turn around to walk right into a group of the dead, these ones moving. We get further into a larger room and Daryl and I immediately go back to back as we start killing the dead, once I put my knife through another one of their heads I turn to see Daryl hitting one over and over again with a golf club until his skull basically explodes.

I notice a bar in front of us, and all of a sudden some alcohol sounds fucking fantastic.

I turn to look at Daryl, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to get a drink."

I see a look of disaproval on his face, but choose to ignore it.

I walk over to the bar to see almost everything is gone or broken.

One bottle ramains, but I'm distracted as glass shatters behind me, Daryl is breaking the glass to a picture frame and then he takes the picture.

"You have your drink yet?" He asks, meeting my eyes.

"I guess? It's no bottle of Jack Daniels, but ... I guess Pink Schnapps will do the trick seeing as I haven't drank anything in over a year."

I uncap the bottle as Daryl starts throwing darts at what I'm assuming is the pictures of the heads of the Club.

I hope he's distracted because I feel the weight of the last few days weighing down on me. Tears start coming to my eyes heavily, and somehow I'm unable to blink them back.

I close my eyes, allowing myself a short cry just while Daryl's distracted only to hear the sound of glass shattering once more. I open my eyes to see the bottle of Pink schnapps broken on the floor.

"Ain't gonna have your first drink in years be no damned peach schnapps." He snaps before approaching an exit door, "Come on." So I follow him once again. A more managable task on our hands. Find us a drink.

Back in the woods we trudge, and we approach a house not unlike the one I grew up in, and my stomach drops.

"Found this place with Michonne," Daryl says.

I follow him, as we approach the house, my heart racing in my chest. Memories of my childhood racing back to me. Memories I've kept at bay for years.

He goes into the shed behind the house and grabs what could only be moonshine from inside, handing it to me. We go inside the house and he pours me a shot in a milk glass.

I shrug and drink it down in one gulp, feeling the burn of the strong alcohol rush down my throat.

I grab the jar of moonshine to pour Daryl a drink only to hear, "Slow down."

I roll my eyes, "I'm not an idiot, this one's for you."

"No, I'm good."

I eye him for a second before asking, "You sure?"

"Someone's got to keep watch." Is his response.

"Okay, suit yourself I guess." I mumble as I pour myself another drink.

"Just drink lots of water," he orders, gruffly.

I bite my lip, and raise an eyebrow at him, "Yes, Sir." I say, before chugging this glass as well.

I look around the house, shaking my head.

"What?" Daryl asks, and I shrug.

"I grew up in a place just like this," I mutter, not making eye contact with him.

"Bullshit," he says. "I may not come from much, but I recognized your hushand. He comes from a whole family of rich folk."

I nod, "He did. I didn't. My dad was a self medicating Schizophrenic who was obsessed with teaching my siblings and I how to survive the Zombie Apocolypse. Funny that he drank himself to death before he could prove himself right; that this really is how the world ends."

"Siblings, how many?" Daryl asks, as he grabs a board to start boarding up the windows, I start doing the same.

"Fourteen, I had four older sisters, nine older brothers and my baby brother. When I married Tyler they all stopped talking to me, said I was betraying the family."

We both hear the telltale growling signalling to us that one of the dead is near by. I step forward, but he raises his hand to stop me, "It's just one of 'em."

I grab my bow, but he walks over and takes it out of my hand, gently. "If he keeps making too much noise we'll kill 'im."

I nod, and notice how close we are in proximity, so I step back, "Now that we're all boarded up for the night, you may as well drink with me."

"Hell, might as well," he agrees, and I smile and hand him a jar of the moonshine.

He sits down in the grungy chair and we do a mock cheers as I sit across from him on the floor, "Home, sweet home," he says.

Later in the night we sit on the floor, our shoulders touching as we sit and talk.

"Did you have any siblings?" I ask him, before taking a drink.

"I had a brother, Merle." I nod a little. "If you came from the likes of this, how'd you meet Tyler, then?"

"After my mom died, I ran off. It was about a year of living on the streets when I was begging for money, or food, or..." I shake my head. "anything really; when Tyler's mom walked past. She offered to buy me dinner and some different clothing. I let her, I was desperate just to be out of the cold. She then bought me clothes, and took me to dinner with her family; Tyler, his sister and father. I don't know how it happened, coming from such different backgrounds and all, but we fell in love. We had three beautiful kids, and," I blink back some more tears, "And I got to live a fairytale for a few short years before the world turned upside down."

We sit in silence for a while before he asks how old I am. I look down at my jar of Moonshine, "Twenty Seven, you?"

He snorts, "I'm gonna take a piss." He stands up and walks to a corner of the house, dropping his jar so it shatters on the floor, causing me to jump.

"Daryl, be careful; we have to be quiet." I chastise.

"Can't hear you!" He yells, "I'm taking a piss!"

"Daryl, please, don't yell."

"What, are you my chaperone now?" He yells, as he starts peeing in the corner.

I look away shaking my head. I know his kind of drunk all too well. But this time, if he were to get physical, I'm not too sure I'd be able to get away like I used to be able to get away from my dad.

Daryl zips his zipper back up and is kicking things on his way back over to me, the dead guy outside starts groaning louder.

"Sounds like our friend out there is tryin' to call all of his buddies."

"Be quiet," I beg, standing up as well now.

Daryl turns away from me to grab his crossbow, "Hey, you ever shot a crossbow before?" I shake my head no. "I'm gonna teach you right now." He comes towards me and grabs my wrist tightly in his, "Come on." He kicks the door open, "It's gonna be fun."

I stay quiet as he pulls me down the stairs and over to the growling dead man.

"Dumbass." He seethes through his teeth, dropping my hand. "Come here, dumbass." He shoots an arrow at the guys shoulder, pinning him to the tree next to the house.

"You want to shoot?" He asks, gruffly.

"Not rea-"

"Oh, it's easy," he grunts, grabbing my shoulder with one arm and pulling me to him, the crossbow still in his other hand. "Come here." He puts the crossbow on my shoulder, "Right corner." He says, taking the shot and hitting flawlessly. He moves me away to reload, and I'm starting to get fed up with him as he repeats, "Come here." And pulls me close again, though this time his arm is practically around my neck. "Eight ball." He shoots directly in the middle.

He pushes me away again, and starts walking towards the dead man, "Come here, Anne. Let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice."

I shake my head, pull my knife out of my pocket, dodge around Daryl; and and stab the poor dead guy right in the head, pull out my knife and round on Daryl.

"What the hell you do that for? I was having fun."

"No! You're being an asshole!" i argue. "What if that was someone we knew from back at the priso-"

"Don't. That ain't remotely the same."

"He was alive once, Daryl. Probably had a family at one point. So it's exactly the same!"

"What do you want from me, girl, huh?" He gets in my face, so I can feel his every labored breath across my face.

"I want you to see what's going on around you! To stop being a dick head and realize that I have a son out there! That you have family out there! But you don't even give a damn about that, do you?"

"Is that what you think?"

"I don't think shit, I know it."

"You don't know nothing."

"I know you're too scared to even think about the possiblity of someone you care about still being alive!"

"I ain't afraid of nothin'." I ignore him, too riled up to give his response the time of day.

"I know that you've let yourself come to some fucked up conclusion that if you don't care about anyone, then you'll be fine. But that's not how the world works; Daryl! You end up caring about people, and they might end up dying, but you can still hope that they don't! Or that the ones you already care about didn't die!"

"How's what I'm doin' any different from you? Huh? Your whole families probably dead and your sat here drinking Moonshine and tellin' a stranger your life story."

"Fuck you, your not even listening!"

"No, you not listenin'! Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that for sure!"

"Might as well be, 'cause you ain't never gonna see 'em again. Carol. You ain't never gonna see Mason again."

"Shut up!"

He turns around, "No! The Governor rolled right up to our gates." His voice breaks, taking me by surprise. "Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped lookin'. Maybe 'cause I gave up. If I'd have listened to you and Carl about shootin' before Hershel died! That's on me!"

"Daryl," I whisper.

"No, And your son. Maybe- maybe if I was faster in gettin' those meds."

I pull him around and hug him, as he starts crying, and then grips onto the back and side of my shirt, holding tightly as he sobs into my shoulder, bending down to do so.

Later that night we sit on the porch of the house, our legs brushing each other, I'm drunk enough I basically don't even care about what had happened earlier.

"Fuck, wish this is how I felt all the time."

Daryl looks at me and hums, "You're lucky you're a happy drunk."

"Yeah, some people make real asses of themselves when their drinking," I tease.

"Yeah, I'm a dick," he uses his knife to shank the wooden post holding the porch up and then looks at me, a smirk on his face, "when I'm drunk."

I push his knee playfully and he grins before his face turns serious, "Merle had this dealer. This janky little white guy. A tweaker." Daryl itches his arm, "One day we were over at his house watching TV. Wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up. Merle never could. Turns out it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show. And he never sees his kids, so he felt guilty about it or something. So he punches Merle in the face. So I started hitting the tweaker," he moves his hands in a punching potion, "like, hard, hard as I can. Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here," he touches the side of his forehead. "He says, 'I'm gonna kill you, bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yelling. I'm yelling. I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a talkin' dog."

I watch him closely, "What happened then?"

"The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it."

"But you didn't. Because that isn't something you forget about."

"You want to know what I was before all this?" I nod, "You were right. I was just drifting around with Merle... doin' whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody. Nothin'. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother."

"What happened to him?" I ask, softly.

"We were together for some of this. Then he got himself handcuffed to a roof by Rick, he cut off his own hand before we could get to 'im. Then he joined the Governor. He's dead now."

"Do you miss him?" When he doesn't answer I fall into my own childhood story.

"My dad used to have us kids learn every bit of fighting he could get us into for free. I learned how to walk on broken glass, nails, anything that could hurt your feet. I could do it without cutting myself by the age of eight. Two of my siblings were out of the house by the time I came around, but there was still thirteen hungry mouths to feed, and as soon as we'd hit twelve we started working to pay rent and buy our own food. But we kept up on the Zombie Bootcamp; that's what my brother Dave used to call it. I could hunt, skin and cook a deer when I was only ten. I was raised to live in this world, yet..." I sigh, "I thought somehow Tyler and I'd find a safe place? Raise our kids, maybe they'd fall in love themselves and have their own kids... I'd become a grandma someday, Tyler would be old and grey." I shake my head, "Dumb right?"

"That's how it was supposed to be."

"Out of all my siblings, I shouldn't have been the one to live."

"You did."

"I don't have the heart for this world. You somehow manage alright, and I wish I could."

"I'm just used to it, things bein' ugly. Growing up in a place like this, you get it."

"We got away from it."

"I didn't."

I shake my head at him, "You did."

"Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes."

"I can do that," I smile, and we lock eyes for a moment, my heart skips a beat, and I look away, feeling myself blush. "But I don't think I'll be around too much longer, so start remembering it quick."

"Stop."

"Serious, if I can't find my son," I shake my head, "I'll have nothing left to live for."

"You ain't a happy drunk at all," he comments.

"You're right, I'm usually a flirtatious drunk."

"Right, then what's this?"

"A bad buzz," I tease, before becoming serious again. "Don't let your past define you, Daryl. If you stick your head in a place like this, it'll eat you up inside. You have to try and forget it, your childhood traumas."

"What if you can't?"

"You keep blaming yourself for things you didn't do. You let guilt and anger build up until it kills you. So not letting go isn't an option."

"I think I'd prefer the flirty drunk."

I smirk, "Nah, emotional drunks can be fun too."

"Yeah, fun." He says, sarcastically.

"Hey," I say, and go to push his leg again, but he takes my hand right before I can.

We stay like this for a few minutes, eyes locked, his hand holding onto mine before he breaks the silence while letting go of my hand, "We should go inside."

"Or we could burn the place to the ground; be all symbolic and such."

He stands up and takes my jar; he then stops in the doorway, "We're gonna need more booze." We exchange smiles.

We go inside and ransack the place, throwing alcohol on every single object there is. When we get outside, he offers me the matches, "You wanna?"

I shake my head, "I've burnt my past. It's your turn."

He nods, and lights the match, throwing it at the building which immediately bursts to flame.

[writersrealmbts]

Protect Them-Hybrid AU: Part 6

Description: Safe with Me Sequel! You work two days a week teaching kids the joys of learning and reading, your favorites being the triplets. When the triplet’s adopted older brother is the one that starts picking them up, you’re not sure what life just handed you but you’re pretty sure it’s just another little slice of heaven. Hoseok x Reader.

Warnings: I don’t even know, if you do, let me know and I’ll change the warnings.

Posted: 02/09/2019

Tags: Hybrid!au, hybrid!Hoseok, Safe With Me Sequel

Angst with fluffs: 3,385 words

A/N: So, I think there will only be ten parts to this. I’m posting this early because starting tomorrow I’m going to be having a hell of a week. I have two exams, and lots of homework and I’m going to try and focus on getting the work done instead of writing (i’ll fail, I know I’ll fail). Anyway, have this piece of writing that one fifty of you seem to care about!

“I see you,” You said, smiling to yourself. “No you can’t,” Was the squeaky response Minsu gave you as he froze, halfway to the couch where you sat. “You’re wearing a red shirt,” You told him, looking at him. He was still blurry, and it was mostly your right eye that could see him. Your left eye wasn’t healing as well, which made sense since that was the side you were hit from. The doctors said you might not get full-vision back, that the hazy sight you had was probably the best you would get from that eye. Your right eye healed more every day, and your sight got better and better. “I couldn’t throw a ball to you, but I can definitely see where you are.” He ran over, slamming his body into the couch. “Yay! And your leg?” “Much better, your brother went to adjust my crutches so I can start getting around on my own.” You ruffled his hair, then patted the seat next to you. You were doing well in physical therapy, building your strength up quickly, though your therapist said you should see someone about your mental health through all of this. You had looked at her and shook your head, saying, “My mental problems come in the form of a man. I don’t think a doctor can help with that.” She hadn’t said a word about it since. Hoseok didn’t get any less physically affectionate either. Actually, he seemed to show it more the more you tried to pull away and become more independent. It was very rude of him to make you feel like everything was wrong with the world if he didn’t kiss the top of your head whenever he carried you down the stairs. Or that you might die if he didn’t stroke your hair, or hug you. And then to be completely oblivious to the effect he had on you… It was almost unforgivable… Almost. Kaemon came squealing through, objecting to the bath he had to take because he and Nari had gotten into the mud. Jin was laughing as he gave chase. “Monnie!” There was a screech of laughter as Kaemon was caught. “Got ya!” Jin laughed. “Oh, your eomma’s going to scrub you good for getting mud all over the floor.” “No!” Kaemon giggled happily, and you could just make out the wiggly mass that was him in Jin’s arms as they passed by again. “Oh, yes, she’ll even get your ears and tail!” “No!” You laughed along with the Minsu at his brother’s misfortune. It was so comfortable. It was strange, feeling like life had always been like this. Like you had always lived with them. The only thing that felt new, different, and absolutely insane was— “Here are your crutches,” Hoseok said, setting them against the table beside the couch. He then sat right next to you, stroking your hair once before staring at his phone. Minsu was wiggling and humming the theme song of the cartoon he had watched that morning since he wasn’t allowed to go outside with the mild fever he had. Emphasis on mild, given how he didn’t seem to even feel sick. But he’d been a couple degrees too warm, and Emma had noticed before either of the hybrids, which was impressive. “You want to try walking around the yard? Get some fresh air?” Hoseok asked suddenly. “Minsu’s fever is gone, so Emma said he could go outside and there’s a nice spot where we could eat lunch.” Minsu was still as stone as he waited for your response. You smiled. “Might be hard with crutches, but I’m up to the challenge. Minsu just has to promise not to get covered in mud.”

“YES!” He screeched, off the couch and running to get his shoes. Hoseok chuckled, getting up and helping you stand, handing you your crutches. “I thought one kid would be easier than all three.” “Good thinking,” You smiled, pushing thoughts of how carefully he cared for you to the back of your mind. It meant nothing. You meant nothing to him. “You okay? You’ve got that frown again. You get that now and then, your thoughts racing again?” He asked, cupping your face in one of his hands. His lovely, wonderful hand. The worry in his voice tore at your heart again, and you didn’t know there was even a piece of your heart left to tear. You thought it’d become confetti already. “Just a lot on my mind. The more I improve, the more I need to get ready to do. Find an apartment, find a job since they aren’t rebuilding the library…” You adjusted your grip, looking down and away from his hand. You couldn’t bear to have him touching you for a moment longer. He hummed softly. “Did I do something wrong?” You tensed up. “Why would you think that?” “You’ll look at everyone but me. You only frown around me, and that…” He sighed. “Your scent changes.” You scrunched up your nose. “My scent?” “It’s normally…when you’re happy and content…you smell like fresh-baked bread, warm and good. But when you get sad, or upset, you smell like bread dough, a little yeasty.” You cringed. “Really?” “It’s not a bad smell,” He quickly said. You cleared your throat. “A little yeasty?” “Okay…it’s actually a nice smell, just different from your normal one. It’s the precursor to deliciousness and home. I just…I’m worried about you. You seem uncomfortable around me. Did I do something wrong?” His voice sounded smaller than normal. “No,” You answered firmly. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He didn’t seem to like your answer, though. “Then what’s wrong?” “Hobi! Help me with my shoelaces!” Minsu came running in, then seemed to freeze. “What’s wrong, y/n?” Great. So all of them knew that you smelled doughy when you were upset. Fantastic. “Nothing, my leg just hurt for a moment. Let Hoseok help you with your shoes and lets get outside. I’m dying for some fresh air.” You smiled toward the kid. Thankfully, it was enough to distract Hoseok from questioning you any further. Today anyway. ——— You sighed and scrolled through the listings. “Everything open is being snatched up as quickly as it’s put on the market.” “Emma was serious when she said she’d talk to someone about reserving you an apartment the moment one of the buildings they’re building is finished,” Hoseok replied from the kitchen. “I know, but without a job, I don’t even know what I’ll be able to afford as far as rent goes.” “And nobody is hiring right now with the rebuild. I know. It’s time to turn the computer off, your eye doctor said you couldn’t look at the screen for more than two hours at a time and no more than six hours in a day.” He came over and closed the window as you tried to rebel, then shut the laptop. “I thought we could go for a walk with the kids. They need the exercise and fresh air and you could use a distraction.” He handed you your glasses, and the single crutch you still needed. Two weeks had done wonders for your body and your leg was almost completely healed. Next week you started therapy to build the muscle back up in it so you could actually put weight on it. You sighed and nodded. Twenty minutes later the two of you were calling to the kids not to go to far ahead on the country road. It was a nice day, and they were excited. Minsu was bouncing all over the place, and Kaemon kept stopping to turn his face and arms into the sun, while Nari skipped from wildflower to wildflower, collecting a bouquet for her mom. Hoseok was chuckling, monitoring the kids, but staying beside you. “Minsu, come back. I hear a car coming.” Nari and Kaemon came running back with their brother. You looked at Hoseok. He was glancing behind you all, then he looked forward suddenly. “Kids, let’s play a game of hide and seek. Go hide in the bushes.” They quickly did as they were told, hiding in the bushes. Hoseok muttered, “Sorry.” Then he gently pulled you into his arms, shoving your crutch into the long grasses and walking alongside you like the two of you were a couple. A van came, slowing down as it passed by you two. Then it drove off. The other car, coming from the other direction stopped and a man got out. “Hoseok, where are the kids?” “Micheal, they’re hiding. Two cars on this road at once?” “Nari, Minsu, Kaemon,” Micheal called. “Come get in the car.” They all came out of the bushes and Nari grabbed your crutch. “What’s going on?” You asked. It was weird. Being suspicious of vehicles on the road, suddenly telling them to get into the car… “We’re not exactly popular. There’s an organization that’s doing their best to undermine everything we’ve done. Take my car and drive. Don’t tell me where you’re going, just take the kids, take y/n, and get out of town. Emma, Jin, Becca and Timothy are safe. I’ve already talked to Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung but I can’t get hold of Jungkook or Jimin.” “We’ll go there first,” Hoseok said, guiding you to the passenger’s seat. “I’ll call when we get there and you can tell me what really happened.” You closed the door and waited, hearing the three get buckled into the backseat and caught Micheal saying he’d get the car from the house and not to worry. Then Hoseok was driving at what looked like a pretty high speed. “Hobi-hyung? Where are we going?” “We’re going to go visit Jimin-ah and Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok replied, his tone cheerful, but a glance toward the backseat told you that the kids new that something was wrong. “We’ll see Ariel too, I’m sure.” “Ariel-unnie?!” Nari perked up, tail thumping lightly against her carseat. “Yup.” She bounced a little in her seat. “I love Ariel-unnie!” You felt like you couldn’t breath. “Who’s Ariel?” “Jimin’s fiancée. They’re getting married in October,” Hoseok answered easily, as if it wasn’t a big deal, unaware that he was taking away a fear of meeting someone that he cared about. Until you remembered that he wouldn’t introduce the kids to a girlfriend unless he planned on keeping her in his life. He turned on the stereo, and there was a kids CD in the player that the kids happily sang along with. The drive was way too long. You were left to interact with Hoseok after the CD ended and the kids were asleep. The man was rude. Who just sits that casually being attractive and irresistible and outshining the sun? How dare he invade your thoughts. How dare he act like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. Driving, and acting all domestic and charming. And talking with him was so easy as long as you avoided the topic of romance. You guys talked about books, shows, movies, school, work, the triplets, kids in general, politics (usually a topic you avoided), and family. You told him about your sister, your parents, the hybrids that actually raised you. You told him about the time surrounding your father’s murder. Including turning in your mother when you found out that she had killed him. “She threatened you too? Jeesh, what happened?” “Pete tackled her and told me to go to the police. The hybrid rights were instituted right before the end of the trial, which allowed me to be put in Pete and Myka’s custody until I graduated high-school. They stuck around until I turned twenty, then started traveling. They were talking about settling down and having kids in their last letter. My sister wanted nothing to do with me when I inherited and she didn’t. Dad always told me that she wouldn’t inherit anything because she would waste it on her many addictions.” You sighed. “Family is complicated.” “And your friends?” “I’m guessing you mean besides Emma? I’ve got a couple acquaintances, but none that I talk to regularly. I get coffee with one friend from college about twice a year. She was always floating in and out with her boyfriends anyways. And when I got a job that I loved…well, I didn’t really think about friends. I was happy. And then it all blew away like dust in the wind.” You snorted in disbelief at how quickly everything you had worked toward was blown away. He was quiet, glancing at you. “We’re almost there.” “You were ready for things to go wrong. Back there, you had the kids hide in the bushes because you heard two cars coming from different directions.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter for a moment. “Emma and Micheal have been targets for people against hybrid rights since…I don’t know. Right about the time she adopted me. People set the house on fire, and another group broke down the front door to try and attack us after Emma had been kidnapped…I guess we’ve just never let our guard down. Micheal and Becca are still active advocates and it doesn’t take much to know that Emma is the motivation behind Micheal’s apparent madness. All you have to do is type Micheal’s name in and her name pops up right alongside it. It’s just…automatic to prioritize the kids’ safety, you know?” “Protect them, yeah. So that they never face what you did,” You said, facing the road. He was just a blue of color on your left. “What any of us did, yeah,” He replied softly. “Jin was basically born into labor, he worked on a farm from the moment he could walk. He rescued Jungkook and Jimin himself, hid them and nursed them back to health. Both physically and mentally. We don’t expect real trouble, but we don’t want to risk them ever falling into the hands of someone who would put them through any sort of pain.” He pulled into the driveway of an apartment building. You looked up at the building, then back at the kids. “Kids, wake up.” Hoseok reached back, and shook Minsu. “We here?” You got out of the car, and leaned against it for a moment before limping back to the back door and opening it to unbuckle Nari. She climbed out, looking up at the building, but staying close to you. Hoseok passed you your crutch over the top of the car. “Come on, we’re going to go see Jungkook and Jimin.” There was a tilt to his head and you could pretty much see him worrying about them not having any clothes, or their stuffed animals, and then also whether or not the two brothers would be home. You gave him a smile, nodding slightly. “Stick close to us, kiddos.” “Yes, noona,” Kaemon said, sleepy still and holding onto Hoseok’s pants as you all slowly made your way into the apartment building. Hoseok guided you all up stairs, sticking close to you to make sure you didn’t have any struggles on the stairs. The kids were pouting after the first two floors. “Just one more floor, babes,” Hoseok said, stooping to kiss the top of Nari’s head. Kaemon growled softly, arms going up. Hoseok picked him up without question, nudging the other two into moving again. You we’re getting tired as well, leaning more heavily on the crutch. When finally you all reached the right floor and the door of the apartment, you were relieved. Hoseok knocked, loudly. There was some noise and then the door swung-open to reveal a bunny-hybrid, with round eyes that got huge with surprise. “Hobi?” He quickly grinned to greet the triplets, scooping up both Nari and Minsu and squeezing them. “Hey, guys! I’m so happy to see you!” They nuzzled into his neck, wrapping tightly around him and each other. They were pouting, whimpering, and just generally acting all wounded. He kissed both of their heads, looking at Hoseok with an unspoken question. “Come on in.” He looked at you, but seemed to decide he’d find out in due time. “Sorry to just drop in on you, but where the hell is your phone?” Hoseok asked, a slight growl in his voice. Jungkook glanced back, then set the kids on the couch. “My room. Why?” “Micheal tried calling you earlier, and I’m sure Emma and Jin have tried to as well. Where’s Jimin?” “He was having lunch with Ariel and her parents, but he dropped his phone yesterday and it died. I was supposed to tell Emma, but I forgot because I have an exam tomorrow and I’ve been studying like crazy…” Jungkook gestured morosely to the mess of textbooks and papers. “I’m home!” Another man called out behind you, then there was an excited squeak. “Hobi, Monnie, Minnie, Nari!” He threw his arms around Hoseok and Kaemon, grinning so brightly that his eyes disappeared. “Jimin!” Minsu cried out happily. Jimin released a chuckling Hoseok to hop over the back of the couch and squish the two kids there into his embrace. “Hi, munchkins!” They were talking over each other, pouting and getting all the sympathy and attention they thought they needed after such a stressful day. Hoseok deposited a whining Kaemon into the mix, then seemed to send a text before gently touching your arm, guiding you to the couch. “It’s okay. We’re safe here.” You let him guide you to a seat on the second couch, where he fussed over you for a second, even going so far as to tuck his head into your neck and breath in deeply. “I want to cuddle y/n!” Kaemon whined and scrambled up onto the couch you were sitting on. You smiled and took him into your arms, suppressing a laugh when Hoseok was shoved from the crook of your neck so that Kae could nuzzle into you. You cuddled him close, secretly grateful that he had shoved Hoseok away from you because you didn’t know how to act around him, or what to think of his actions. But all too soon, Kae was snoring into your shoulder and the other two were looking equally drowsy cuddled up with Jimin. “Everyone is okay then?” Jimin asked casually. Hoseok nodded, stroking Kae’s hair. “Yeah. There was just a small threat, I think. Micheal found us and told us to get out of town and since neither of you were answering we knew we had to check here. Oh, this is y/n, by the way.” “I figured,” Jimin said, giving you a friendly smile. Jungkook nodded slightly. “Why didn’t you bring any of their stuff? You know Kae’s going to freak out without his bear.” “We were out for a walk and Micheal seemed to think us getting out of there was pretty urgent.” Hoseok sighed. “Can we put them on your bed, Kook?” “Better put them on mine, I have more blankets and we can make a blanket den for them like Jin does on rainy days,” Jimin said before Jungkook could answer. He picked up Minsu, while Jungkook picked up Nari. You let Hoseok take Kaemon, then rubbed your eyes behind your glasses. They were sore, an all too common occurrence since the accident. You just wanted to be well again so you could get away from Hoseok and end your torment. “Hey, you okay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, and you felt the couch dip as he sat beside you. “Yeah, my eyes are just sore.” You kept your answer as simple as possible to avoid detection. “I meant because of what Hobi did earlier, I saw the look on your face,” He murmured. “You can tell him not to do that, you know.” You pressed your lips together and looked at him before looking away. “Oh…oh.” He shifted so he was facing toward the hallway as well. “Um…y/n…about Hobi…” “Hey, Kook, Nari’s asking for you,” Hoseok said, poking his head in. “Why were you two talking about me?” “I was just going to tell her about how you’re scared of everything,” Jungkook said with a grin. “Brat.” Thank God for it.

Masterlist.   Part 5.  Part 7.   Masterpost.

Tagged: @jiminslye

[geminiamethyst]

The Phoenix. Chapter 2: The Burning Truth.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Kyun rammed into the door. He had been going on at it since he and the others were dragged into the cell. It was a stone encased room with a small barred window and a wooden door. A cot with a thin mattress made a pitiful excuse for a bed at the far side of it, a thin blanket and pillow there to complete it. Ken crossed his arms as he watched Kyun uselessly try to break down the door. Mumrik stood next to him, looking worried over at what Kyun was doing. Snuf was curled up so tight in a corner, one would think he was trying to become invisible.

“Kyun, stop. That door is not going to go down that easily.” Ken said, barely trying as he knew that Kyun wouldn’t listen to him. Kyun stopped for a bit, sweat dripping down his forehead, trying to catch his breath.

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’d rather be turned into the Groke than let that maniac do whatever he wants to Shin.” He panted, taking a step back. Mumrik decided to step in. He reached forward and held Kyun back as best he could.

“And what makes you think that breaking your arm or dislocating your shoulder will help Shin? We’ll get out of here somehow. We just need to wait for an opening.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering. “In the meantime, try to stay calm.” Kyun took a deep breath and rubbed a spot on his arm where he knew would bruise at some point. He knew Mumrik was right. If the door was really pathetic, he probably would’ve broken it down by now. He wanted to throw up at the thought of waiting, but he needed to save his energy. He nodded at Mumrik. However he suddenly cringed as he felt a sharp pain on the the left side of his face. He covered the area, just near his eye. The pain left as quickly as it came.

“What’s going on?” Ken asked, sounding concerned. Kyun didn’t answer to begin with. He felt this before, back while Gnos had Shin as a prisoner. After the Dr struck Shin across the face.

“Shin...That psycho hurt him!” Kyun shouted, his fists clenching tight, his anger returning to him in an instant.

“How could you know that?!” Ken exclaimed, not quite believing his ears.

“I don’t know! But it seems that when we’re apart, I can feel Shin’s injuries. Not the full force of it of course, but just enough to feel it. Pretty much like a bee sting or when you remove a thorn from your foot.” Kyun tried to explain before he backed up. Mumrik’s ears picked up something and he stood between Kyun and the door before he could try ramming it again.

“Someone’s coming!” He hissed, gently pushing Kyun back from the door. Before Kyun could shout at him or anything like that, the door opened. Shin was shoved through it and, not realising that the others were in the cell with him, when the door closed he banged his fist against it.

“Shin?” Kyun spoke up. Shin looked over his right shoulder before turning away. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Shin said, trying to keep his voice from rising.

“I’m not stupid Shin. Yes, I act like a joker at times, but that doesn’t make me dumb. I know he hit you. He hit in you the face right? On your left side right?” Kyun snapped, tapping his foot impatiently. Shin whipped around. Sure enough, a bruise around his now swollen left eye had formed, the eye was closed almost completely from the injury.

“How did you-“ he exclaimed, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Long story short Kyun can somehow feel when you’re hurt to some degree.” Ken interrupted. “What happened?”

“He got mad just because I broke his nose.” Shin bluntly said, trying to not think about what happened before then.

“You broke his nose?! Man I wish I was there!” Kyun laughed. Shin, however didn’t. His eyes were downcast, trying to keep what happened from Kyun, because he knew that a black eye and what that man had insinuated would be enough for his boyfriend to go off the deep end.

“No, you don’t.” He said almost pitifully as he sat down, leaning back against the wall. Kyun dropped the smile and knew that something was wrong. Snuf finally raised his head.

“So...what does he want from you?” He asked quietly. His voice was so quiet that it was almost unheard. Shin rubbed the bruise on his face a bit, trying to figure out the best way to answer the question.

“I don’t know. He didn’t really explain. He didn’t even tell me his name. He just put his hands on me and that’s why I broke his nose.” He explained, forgetting to leave that one detail out.

“HE WHAT?!” Kyun screamed in rage, his face as dark as thunder.

“Kyun, I’m fine. I stopped him before it got worse.” Shin sighed, trying to calm down the tension in the room.

“Leave me in a room with him and I’ll show him where to put his hands.” Kyun grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Alright, Kyun! We get it. I swear you’re worse than a guard dog or something.” Ken sighed, getting annoyed by the Snufkin’s attitude. “Did he say anything to you at all Shin? Anything that might help us understand this situation.”

“He said he knew my parents.” Shin sighed, looking down. Kyun looked at him in almost disbelief. Shin had never uttered a word about his family, leaving Kyun to assume that his boyfriend had none. To suddenly hear the word parents almost sounded completely alien to him.

“And do you believe that?” Ken asked again, tugging a strand of blonde hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before and my parents never told me about him.” Shin sighed again, his shoulders starting to tense up a little.

“Well, once we get out of here, you’re going to have to take us to your parents so we can ask them about this.” Ken sighed looking at the window.

“You can’t.” Shin muttered, trying to not think of a horrible memory that began to surface.

“Shin, I’m sorry, but I’m with Ken on this one. I get it if you want to protect them from the Hunters but-“ Mumrik tried to reason, stepping forward.

“You can’t because they’re dead!” Shin suddenly snapped, looking up at everyone sharply. Ken, Mumrik and even Kyun stepped back a little as Snuf felt that he curled up tighter into himself at this sudden outburst. Shin himself looked like he was shocked by his raised voice. He looked down, his quick burst of rage gone, and felt shame drape over him like a blanket. Kyun sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“Kyun, I don’t like to talk about it.” Shin protested, tensing up even more.

“I get it. But we need to know as much as we can about your family. It might give us something that we can use to figure out why these guys want you so badly. Just take your time.” Kyun reasoned, rubbing Shin’s shoulder tenderly. Shin took his hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of it slowly. Mumrik sat down next to Snuf, his legs getting tired and his friend looking like he could do with someone being next to him for a bit, and Ken remained standing, leaning back on the opposite side of the cell. Shin took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He never thought he would ever talk about this until his last day on Earth. He had tried so hard to repress the horrible memories by making new, happy ones with Kyun. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn. However, now that he was in this cell, with the innocent people that he dragged along with him, he felt like he had no choice.

“You all have to understand that I was a small boy when it happened, so I won’t be able to tell you everything, just what I know.” He explained after taking another deep breath. No one said anything, respecting the time that he needed to take. “It was the middle of winter and this happened, I believe in the early hours of the morning at least because it was still dark and I remember the grandfather clock chiming in the landing. At that time, it should’ve been freezing cold, but when I woke up, I was surprised at how warm it was. Like my father or mother had woken up and decided to warm themselves by the fireplace downstairs. I don’t know what woke me up and what made me get out of bed. It was like one of those nagging feelings you get when something’s not right. I went to go to my parents, wanting to get the feeling out of my mind. However, when I opened my bedroom door, I was met with this thick black cloud. I had to duck down because I felt like I was being suffocated.”

“Smoke...” Ken whispered absentmindedly, getting a chill down his spine.

“Yes.” Shin sighed, gripping Kyun’s hand a little tighter. “I tried to get to my parents because I could hear them choking. The fire hadn’t reached the landing but I could see the light of it downstairs and I could remember feeling the intense heat, slowly getting hotter. It almost made me feel like I was made out of candle wax. I called out to them but my parents told me to get out of the house. Out of fear, I did just that. When I did, I just stood there, hoping that my parents would come out too. But they never did.”

“I’m sorry.” Kyun said, trying to keep himself from crying just as Shin was doing.

“I hate to ask but how did you get out of there? If the fire was downstairs there’s no way that you would’ve gotten out.” Ken asked, feeling a little suspicious.

“You remember when you asked me about my scar?” Shin said, looking at Kyun. Kyun nodded silently, dreading that he now knew where it came from. Shin pulled back his sleeve, revealing a long, jagged scar running halfway along his arm. “I had to jump out of a window. The glass cut all the way across my arm. The only other reason why I’m still here is because the snow had fallen recently and it broke my fall a little.” Just about everyone fell silent, giving respect for the dead. Ken hung his head in shame, feeling like an idiot for doubting Shin’s side of the story that he was briefly trapped in the burning house. He was tempted to bite his tongue hard enough to make it bleed for that, but settled to biting the inside of his cheek instead. Mumrik and Snuf were just as silent as each other. Both hung their heads down out of respect. The way that they were sitting was so similar that it almost seemed like they were identical twins if it wasn’t for the height difference. Kyun held Shin close, laying his head on his shoulder. He glanced down at the still uncovered scar on his arm, fighting back a wince. He would never have thought that Shin had ever gone through that in his life. He had always assumed that he got the scar in an accident, just not one this traumatic. He was quite surprised that Shin had never once given a hint about what happened. Kyun silently reached over and pulled down the sleeve to cover it back up, almost feeling sick after looking at it. Shin only responded by squeezing his hand as a silent thank you. He looked up, trying to hold back his tears. He thought he had shed them long ago. Now that he had spoken about the trauma after all this time, it turns out he still had tears to shed. When he felt like they had been held back for the time being, he reopened his eyes. He frowned silently and blinked a couple of time to be sure that he was seeing clearly.

“How long have you all been here for?” He asked, still looking up.

“At least a few minutes longer than you. 5 minutes at the most.” Ken sighed, glaring at the door, as if it would disappear the harder he looked at it.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve been here for 5 minutes, and yet none of you had noticed the vent.” Shin stated, pointing at the ceiling. Everyone looked up and sure enough there was a vent right above them.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Kyun yelled, creating a bit of an echo.

“Well, what with you ramming into the door to try to get it open, Mumrik and I distracted and Snuf being out of it since we were locked in here, it would make sense as to why we didn’t see it.” Ken muttered, ignoring a short glare from Snuf.

“Right. Here’s what’s going to happen. Mumrik, you’ll keep an ear out for the guards. Warn us if any come. Ken, you’ll get on my shoulders and Kyun you get on his. Snuf, you’re going to climb up and crawl in the vents to find a key for us.” Shin said, standing up.

“Oh no! I’ve already done enough vent crawling to last me a life time.” Snuf protested, waving his hands in front of him.

“You’ve only done it the once. To bust us outta Gnos’s prison cells.” Kyun fired back.

“What?! Never mind.” Shin exclaimed, before he shook it off and looked apologetically at the youngest Snufkin. “Snuf, I’m sorry, but you’re the smallest and most likely to fit through the vent. Unless Mumrik wants to have a go.”

“Vents and a claustrophobic don’t mix. Sorry Snuf.” Mumrik shuddered as he stood by the door. He actually looked a little pale at the mere suggestion of him trying to go through the vent instead of Snuf. Snuf gave a long sigh before standing up.

“Fine, but you owe me big time for this.” He groaned, arms crossed in annoyance.

“Leave your hat behind as well. I promise you’ll get it back but we need to try to make it look like you’re still here should any guards come.” Ken said. Snuf reluctantly agreed, placing his hat on the cot. He watched as Ken steadily climbed onto the taller Snufkin’s shoulders. Shin seemed to hold steady but once Kyun started to climb onto him and Ken, it looked like he was going to give way to the extra weight on him. He held firm and nodded to give Snuf the go ahead to start climbing up. Again, he seemed to sway slightly under the weight as the younger started to climb to the top, his knees starting to seem like they were going to pop if he wasn’t relieved of the burden but he kept doing his best to remain standing still. Once he was on Kyun’s shoulders, feeling how much Shin started to struggle, Snuf took out his knife and started to use the blade like a screwdriver. Careful not to drop the knife but wanting to go as fast as he could, he started to unscrew the vent open, trying his best to keep his hands a steady as possible. As this was going on, Mumrik had an ear pressed against the door. He ignored the events going inside the cell so he could focus more on the world outside of it. It was almost silent save for the faint sound of flames that came from the torches in the dimly lit corridor. He couldn’t hear anything in the corridors, so at the moment he had no reason to worry. However, just as the vent was open, he heard a door being opened from down the hall.

“Guys! Hurry up! Someone’s coming!” He hissed, turning to the others. Thankfully, Snuf was already pushing himself up into the vent and disappeared just as Kyun jumped down. As soon as Ken got off of Shin, he immediately covered the pillow on the cot with the blanket, with only a quarter of it sticking out. He placed the hat on the uncovered part of the pillow to try to make it look like Snuf was still in there and asleep. Kyun placed the vent cover into a corner, where from the door you wouldn’t be able to see it, and pressed it against the wall as best he could. Mumrik watched the door carefully, waiting for a guard to look inside to see what was going on. The footsteps stopped after a minute. The group looked at each other, wondering if they had all imagined it. Mumrik crept to the door and looked through the barred window. He couldn’t see anything. Maybe the guard took a wrong turn or was checking on another prisoner that could possibly be somewhere else. A Hunter suddenly jumped up and yelled in the Snufkin’s face. Mumrik couldn’t help but let out a scream as he fell backwards in fright. The Hunter cackled in delight, his yellow stained teeth flashing for everyone to see. Kyun and Shin helped Mumrik back on his shaking feet, adrenaline rushing through him. His heart hammered so much and his lungs felt so empty that he thought he couldn’t breathe.

“Aw! Is the little Snufkin gonna cry?! Come on, cry for us!” The Hunter laughed, gaining satisfaction at Mumrik’s paled face and wide eyes. Shin gently pushed Mumrik further away from the door. The Hunter saw his black eye and his grin grew wider. “Yikes! The boss really did do a number on you huh?” Shin ignored him and turned his back to the door. Kyun tried to do the same thing, but what the Hunter said next was becoming his breaking point. “It’s a good thing that the boss didn’t do any worse to that pretty little face of yours. Now he’ll have a better chance at charming you! And make you behave like the mutt you are!” Kyun suddenly charged at the door. Before the smug Hunter could react, the enraged Snufkin grabbed his collar and yanked him forward. He hit the bars so hard that there was an echoing clang.

“SAY THAT AGAIN! I DARE YOU!” Kyun yelled, rage lighting his eyes so much that one would think that they were on fire, his face bright red with rage. Shin immediately decided to defuse the situation. He wrapped his arms around Kyun’s waist and pulled him back. The Hunter’s clothing was torn, small rags left in the Snufkin’s hands. Kyun kicked wildly, trying to get back at the guard.

“Kyun, listen to me! You need to calm down! Lashing out like that is not going to help! Calm down!” Shin shouted, his voice stern but calm at the same time. Kyun stopped struggling, taking some deep breathes. The red in his face died away. He seemed to be relaxed but his shoulders were tensed up. Shin released his hold on him, trusting that he wouldn’t charge forward unless he was provoked like that again.

“You should get that mutt of yours under control!” The Hunter groaned as he rubbed his bruised face.

“And you should walk away! Unless you have something you need to tell us!” Ken shouted, standing in front of the guard.

“Yeah! Boss said he expects you to be in his company tonight, Shin. Said he’s got a deal that he believes you won’t turn down.” The Hunter grunted, glaring at Shin. Shin only stared back. The Hunter grunted, and walked away. As his footsteps faded away, everyone let out a breath that they didn’t realise they were holding. Mumrik slumped down against the wall, still shaking from the fright. He ran his fingers through his hair to try to calm down. Ken leaned against the wall, keeping an eye on the still open vent, just in case Snuf was to come back very suddenly if he came across a problem. Kyun however glared at Shin.

“Why’d you stop me?! He had no right-“ he shouted.

“You were fanning the flames! He wanted a reaction, and even though it was one he didn’t see coming, he got it. You need to try to not react to these things.” Shin argued back.

“Oh! I’m sssssssoooooooo sorry! But am I not allowed to protect YOU after all the stuff you went through?! What with Gnos and now this psychopath after you, I’ve got every right to!” Kyun shouted, his face turning a faint shade of red.

“Kyun, I get it. But you’ve got to stop this right now. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Shin said, trying to keep his voice from rising.

“This coming from the guy who has a black eye! And the one that got turned to stone because he was too stubborn to accept help!” Kyun shouted.

“Don’t you dare-“ Shin shouted, his voice suddenly raising.

“Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!” Mumrik suddenly shouted. The couple looked at him. “This is not going to solve anything! I get it if we’re going crazy being stuck in here, but the more we turn on each other, the less likely we’ll get out of here. So you two either kiss and make up or give each other the silent treatment until Snuf gets us out of here!” When he was done, Mumrik took deep breathes, as if all of his pent up anger took all of his energy out of him. He bowed his head down, hiding his face completely to try to take his mind off of the situation. His body was trembling, but no one could tell if it was because of the shock or if he was on the verge of tears. Ken sat down on the cot, glancing down at the abandoned hat next to him. He was glad that the guard was stupid enough not to question that Snuf was still here and didn’t think to ask what was wrong with him. However he had a a feeling that it might not happen a second time around. He looked up at the vent again, hoping that Snuf was having better luck than they were right now. Kyun looked up at Shin, feeling guilty. A part of him didn’t realise that his temper was so out of control whenever it came to anyone harming Shin up until that point.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ he sighed, not making eye contact.

“Forget it. Just promise me that you’ll try to ignore anyone that tries to do that again, no matter what they say to you. Okay?” Shin interrupted, tilting Kyun’s head up to look at him properly. Kyun didn’t answer but he wrapped his arms around him, refusing to let him go for a second. Shin did the same. He couldn’t bare the thought that Kyun might get hurt if he kept showing aggression towards their captors. He needs to know that he can trust Kyun to stay calm when he wasn’t there. He looked over towards the door. He was quite surprised that the man wanted to see him again after he broke his nose. He wasn’t overly concerned about that though. What he was more worried about was this deal that the Hunter had mentioned. After what had happened, he was dreading the worst. He tried to take his mind off of it, focusing more on the Snufkin he held tightly.

———————————————————————————

“Hey Boss!” A Hunter shouted as he burst through the doors. In his hand he held a piece of paper. The man groaned as he felt like he was on his last nerve.

“Do you thugs not know how to knock?!” He shouted as clear as he could. His speech sounded a little nasally since his nose was broken. As he faced the thug, a brace could be seen as clear as day on his nose. “What do you want?!”

“Message from your buddies. Apparently they want results or something.” The Hunter said, passing over what he held in his hand. The man snatched the paper from him and scanned it before tossing it into the fire place. Flames licked at it as it turned black. The handwritten ink became one with the charred paper. It curled up in response to the flames, shrinking in on itself and turned into ash in a matter of seconds. Embers danced, gracefully floating up the chimney.

“Well tell them that they should expect results by tomorrow. Well, get moving!” He barked, his temper snapping rapidly when the Hunter just stared at him blankly. He left just as quick as he came. The man stared into the fire and sipped at his wine. It was so hard to find good help these days. He hated using people that preferred to use their guns over their brains but he was quite surprised to have Shin this quickly. He had heard about what happened to Gnos. Honestly he felt a little underwhelmed. He heard that Shin caused a lot of trouble to avoid capture, he expected more than what had happened today. It’ll be worth it though, in the end.

Chapter 1: Still Running: click HERE

Chapter 3: coming soon....