#Yeah this time I'll tag him so everyone knows about this moment on his grown up adult that decided to interact with a random citizen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loveroftoomanyfandoms · 7 months ago

Text

That Summer, Chapter 2

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Rating: M

Story Summary: Frank Castle has been on the move ever since he "retired" as The Punisher after finding out the truth about his family's murder and handing his former best friend, Billy Russo, off to the Feds.

With his new identity as Pete Castiglione, Frank decides to settle down in a small town in Iowa, where he finds employment as a farmhand/handyman for you, a widow who's struggling to keep your farm running by yourself after the untimely death of your husband a year prior.

As Frank grows closer to you, his past -- and true identity -- begin to catch up with him, putting his chance of finding peace -- and both of your lives -- at risk.

Warnings/Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, smut in future chapters

Word Count: ~2400

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and/or commented on chapter 1! If you'd like to be tagged in this, please let me know!

Taglist: @danzer8705 @carolinaxvz @thepunisherfrankcastle @eddieslooneymoonie @kezibear

“Thank you for lunch,” Frank said half an hour later as he finished his sandwich and chips. “I certainly appreciate it.”

You nodded then stood and picked up your and Frank's plates. “It's nothing fancy but it's really all I ever have time for during the day.”

Frank shook his head. “No, it was great, really.”

He stood as well. “If you show me where the boards are for the fence I'll go ahead and get started on that.”

You walked over to the sink. “Sure, just give me a second to wash these plates.”

Frank nodded. “Mind if I use your bathroom then?”

You shook your head. “Go right ahead. Guest bathroom is in the front entryway on your right.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Frank went to the bathroom and relieved himself before moving to the sink to wash his hands.

He looked up at himself in the mirror. He had grown his hair and beard out while he had been on the road, but it would be time for a cut and shave soon.

He returned to the kitchen, where you were once again looking wistfully out of the window.

You hadn't seemed to notice Frank's presence, so he took a moment to study you. The sunlight filtering in through the window gave you an ethereal glow despite the sadness on your face. She's beautiful.

He couldn't deny that he found you attractive -- even though he had only known you for a few hours he could tell that you were a kind and caring yet determined and hard-working woman.

He cleared his throat. “All set.”

You turned from the window and looked over at him, a small smile crossing your lips. “Okay, great. Here, I'll show you where I keep the extra lumber.”

The two of you put your boots back on and headed back outside, Canine Frank following behind you. “Tom had just put that fence up about a year and a half ago,” you said as the two of you walked towards a storage shed next to the barn. “So I don't understand how it can be in such bad shape already.”

Frank was pretty sure he knew the reason, but didn't want to say it until he had confirmed it. “The boards have been rotting really fast, huh?”

You nodded as you opened the shed door. “Yeah.”

Frank walked in and picked up a board. Just as I thought. Pine. “That’s because you're not using a strong enough wood.”

He turned to you. “These are pine boards, which is a cheaper option for fencing, but also really soft – moisture’ll get in pine and rot it very quickly, especially during the winter. And on top of that, these boards haven't been pressure-treated, which is just making them rot even faster.”

Your shoulders slumped. “So basically what you're saying is that I should go ahead and replace the entire fence.”

Frank nodded. “I can replace the currently broken posts and rails if you want, but you're just going to keep having the same problem and will eventually have to replace the whole thing sooner rather than later anyway.”

“So what wood do you suggest?”

“Oak, which'll probably cost you more in lumber now but will last you years longer and need way less maintenance since it's a much harder wood.”

You sighed. “Okay. Let me check with my lumber supplier and see how much it would cost me to replace the entire thing.”

Frank nodded. “In the meantime I'll start on getting that tractor fixed for you. What's been going on with it?”

“About two months ago I was hauling a bale of hay in for the horses and the damn thing just sputtered and quit on me right where it sits.” You shook your head. “Couldn't get it started back up and I haven't had time to take it to get looked at. Just too much to do around here.”

You pulled a key out of your pocket and handed it to him. “If you need me I'll be over at the chicken coop.”

Frank walked over to the tractor and raised the hood. I should check the oil and gas first before I try to start it since it's been sitting.

Both looked free of water and debris, so he began to inspect the other parts. Spark plugs look good, but the carburetor could use a cleaning.

Frank walked over to the barn and grabbed a couple of tools, then went back over to clean the carburetor. Nope, that wasn't it.

Next he tried testing the battery. That’s fine too.

He was beginning to suspect that it was something with the fuel system based on the way the tractor had been trying but failing to start, so he checked the fuel line and filter next. No, not those either.

“Any luck?”

Frank turned as you appeared behind him carrying a large wicker basket of eggs, Canine Frank trailing behind you. “Not yet, but I’ve narrowed it down to something to do with the fuel system. Can you come try to start it for me so I can check something?”

You nodded and set the basket down. “Sure.”

Frank went back to the front of the tractor while you climbed onto the seat. “Okay, go ahead,” he said.

Frank looked over the engine as you attempted to start the tractor up. Aha. “Okay , I think I know what the problem is. It looks like the lever that controls the fuel level is jammed.”

He looked over at you. “Got any WD-40 or something like that?”

“Yeah, just a second.”

You climbed down from the tractor and walked back to the shed where you kept the fence lumber, then came back with a can of WD-40. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Frank sprayed a bit on the stuck lever, then carefully worked a flathead screwdriver into it to help loosen it up.

He lowered the hood of the tractor and peered over it at you. “Try starting it again.”

You got on the tractor once again and turned the key, a wide grin spreading across your face when it started right up. “It worked!”

Frank closed the hood. “I also cleaned the carburetor and tested the battery, and the oil and gas looked fine so it should be good as new.”

You nodded, a look of relief on your face. “You’re amazing. Thank you so much.”

Frank shrugged and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. “Ah, not a problem.”

You cut the tractor off and climbed down as a loud mooing sounded from the barn. “The cows are starting to get restless, so how about I get these eggs put away then show you how to do the milking?”

Frank nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Alright then. Give me just a minute.”

As you picked up the basket of eggs and headed back over to the main house, Frank walked over to the spigot connected to the barn to wash the dirt and grime off of his hands.

You came back a minute later with two large metal buckets. “Okay, I'm ready.”

Frank opened the now-easily sliding barn door for you. “After you.”

He followed you to where the cows were kept.

You set one of the buckets down and grabbed a nearby stool. “I usually start with Clarabelle. She gets fussy if she has to wait too long.”

Frank chuckled. “I bet it's not easy milking a fussy cow.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips as you opened Clarabelle's stall and headed inside. “It’s not too difficult. Clarabelle is just a bit of a diva.”

You set the stool and bucket down and gave Clarabelle a gentle pat on her nose. “Aren’t ya, Miss Clara, my sweet girl?”

Clarabelle blinked her soulful brown eyes and nuzzled your hand, as if to say, who, me?

Frank smiled. “Diva or not, she clearly loves you.”

“I love her too.” You glanced at Frank. “This farm is all I have, so it's important that all of my animals are happy and well taken care of.”

Frank nodded. Message received. “I'll take care of them as if they were my own, I promise.”

“Good.” You adjusted the stool and sat. “Now, let me show you how to milk the cows.”

You took a damp washcloth out of the bucket. “I sell milk, butter, honey, and eggs at the farmer's market on Saturdays, so it's extremely important to follow state safety regulations for the production and sale of raw milk.”

You carefully wiped Clarabelle's udder then set the washcloth on your lap. “The first step is to clean the cow's udder so that nothing that isn't milk gets in the bucket then to use an udder balm to make sure you're not hurting her.”

Frank nodded. “Got it.”

You rubbed some cream from a small jar onto Clarabelle's udder then took her teats in your hands. “Then we pre-milk her a couple of times just to make sure that there's no dirt or debris in her milk ducts.”

Frank watched as you gently squeezed and pulled down on Clarabelle's teats, releasing a stream of milk from each group.

You set the bucket under Clarabelle. “Then we just set the bucket down and get to milking.”

You squeezed a few streams of milk into the bucket. “Want to try?”

Frank nodded. “Sure.”

He switched places with you and took hold of Clarabelle's teats. “Like this?”

You shook your head and knelt down beside him. “Little higher up.”

Frank took a deep breath as you took his hands in your smaller ones. You smelled of clean sweat and soap and something else Frank couldn't quite identify, but liked.

Your grip slightly tightened on Frank's hands. “Then you just pull and squeeze, like this.”

You guided Frank in milking Clarabelle for a few moments, then let go to let him try to milk her on his own. “Good job. You're a natural.”

You reached up and patted Clarabelle on her rump. “And you are being such a good girl today, sweetheart. You definitely deserve a treat for being so patient.”

“How do I know when she's done?” Frank asked. “She'll just stop producing milk?”

“Her udder will be a lot flatter and she'll seem more comfortable,” you replied. “Once you're done with her, give her a carrot from the bag on the front of her stall, then if you don't mind, could you move on to Daisy and milk her then give her a carrot as well? I'll get the other three.”

Frank nodded again, keeping his attention on milking instead of looking at you. “No problem.”

You stood. “Thanks. If you need any help I'll be right over here.”

You took the other bucket and moved down a few stalls, talking softly to Lulu before opening the stall door and heading inside.

Frank finished milking Clarabelle then gave her a carrot before moving on to Daisy’s stall.

Daisy looked over at Frank as he entered and moved over to the wall, turning sideways so he could get to her udder easily.

Frank chuckled. “You know the drill, huh girl?”

He set the stool down and gave Daisy a gentle pat on her side. “Good girl. You're gonna make this easy for me, aren't ya?”

Daisy ‘moo’ed in response.

Frank cleaned Daisy's udder and applied a bit of cream before making sure her milk ducts were clear. “Okay, let's get you milked.”

He milked Daisy and gave her a post-milking carrot, then headed over to the other stalls to find you. “I'm all done.”

You peered around Millie at him. “Great!”

You looked at your watch. “Since you got that tractor back up and running for me I'm gonna bottle up this milk then get the grass cut. Why don't you go ahead and knock off for the evening, take a shower and relax a bit before supper?”

Frank rubbed the back of his neck. “In that case, I might go ahead and head into town, pick up a few groceries.”

“Okay.” You patted Millie’s side and stood. “Just so you know, you’re welcome to any of the goods we produce or harvest. No point in having to buy them from the store when they're readily available here.”

Frank nodded, mentally taking milk, butter, eggs, and honey off of his grocery list. “I appreciate that.”

“I'll get some stuff packed up for you to bring back to the cabin tonight after supper.”

“Sounds good.” Frank gestured towards your now-full bucket of milk. “Need me to grab that for ya?”

“If you don't mind.”

Frank shook his head. “Not at all. Where we heading?”

“Back to the house.”

Frank picked up the other bucket of milk and waited as you gave Millie a carrot, then he followed you back to the big house.

He smiled to himself when Canine Frank, who had been napping on the porch, got up and wagged his tail at the two of you.

You scratched Canine Frank behind his ears then unlocked the door. “Here, you can just set those on the counter for me.”

Frank followed you in and set the buckets down in the kitchen. “Need help with anything else?”

You shook your head. “No thanks, I can take it from here.”

Frank nodded. “I'll see you at dinner tonight, then.”

He gave Canine Frank a friendly pat on his head then headed back to the cabin, where he moved his laundry from the washer to the dryer before heading to the bathroom to shower.

As he stood under the hot spray of water, his mind turned back to you and the way your hands had felt on his earlier.

Frank had honestly found it difficult to concentrate as you had guided his hands to milk Clarabelle. The way you had gently squeezed and pulled had made Frank think about having your hands in a place he hadn't been privy to having a woman touch in a long time. Shit.

He sighed. He was here to work, not get distracted by the thought of your hands (and mouth, if he was honest) on his cock. It's just been entirely too long since I've been with a woman, he thought. It hadn't had anything to do with her in particular.

Even as he thought it, deep down he knew he was lying to himself. It's going to be a long summer.

#lotmf writes #That Summer Masterlist #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader

48 notes · View notes

heartofspells · 7 months ago

Text

Tuesday Snippet

Thank you for the tag, @brandileigh2003! <3

A little piece of the Sirius/Benjy goodness for everyone because it's the only current thing I have that I'm allowed to share, and honestly, they're really clogging my brain right now.

Gently tickling @tracingpatternswrites @mycupofrum @squintclover & @theresthesnitch

Groaning deeply, Sirius lets his head fall backwards, thumping his skull against the bricks behind him. His eyes roll towards the star sprinkled sky above them, Sirius tracking the blankets of clouds as they drift and block his view.

"D'you remember when we used to do these assignments together and never talk? I miss that," he mutters in irritation.

Beside him, Fenwick huffs out a tiny laugh. "I don't see why," he responds, not sounding bothered. "Talking makes the time pass much faster."

"We're not even meant to be talking."

"Yeah, because you're such a goody-good for the rules," remarks Fenwick in a knowing way, and Sirius curls deeper into himself, scowling at the dark sky. "We're safe. We've got the muffling charm, and there's nothing happening in that building. Nothing's going to happen in that building, you know that as well as I do."

Silence descends around them for a moment until:

"Do you have a problem with me talking to you?" asks Fenwick.

"When you're doing nothing but prattling like a loose-tongued prat, yes," drawls Sirius.

Fenwick clicks his tongue, almost like he's mocking Sirius' foul temper. "I don't consider asking about your life as senseless prattling."

"Why do you care?" demands Sirius waspishly, rounding on the other man, brows lowered deeply over his eyes. "You don't like me."

Fenwick blinks at him. "When have I ever said that?" he questions dumbly, and Sirius scoffs.

"You don't have to say it. It's been perfectly clear. You barely graced me with a look until the first time we were paired together, and don't think I didn't notice how unhappy you were about that."

Humming quietly, Fenwick tips his head back in a mimic of Sirius' previous position. "I'm not sure why that points to me not liking you," he says calmly, body completely relaxed. "I'll admit, you didn't impress me much in the beginning. You were too eager, too juvenile about the whole thing, but you're young. It's to be expected, so I pushed you to the side."

"Like you're so old?" counters Sirius a bit scathingly, pulling Fenwick's gaze to him again.

"Compared to your once bushy and wagging tail?" he responds plainly. "Yes."

Knees spreading apart as he shifts, Sirius fidgets with his cloak, pulling it more tightly around him to block out the cold, not that he feels it much, doing everything he can to avoid looking at the other man, but he can't make himself avoid it for long. His eyes flicker around, landing on Fenwick, narrowing as he calculates his partner.

"So, why the questions now? What's changed?" he asks gruffly, and Sirius is surprised by the slow-spreading smile that begins to engulf Fenwick's features, shadowed in the darkness but still obvious.

"You've grown on me," answers Fenwick easily, not moving as he stares at Sirius, "and now I find you fascinating."

#sirius/benjy #they really do need a ship name #blackwick?#fenack?#berius?#sirjy?#now i'm just making myself laugh #sirius black #benjy fenwick #snippet #my writing

21 notes · View notes

aurorafables · 4 months ago

Text

From the Grey, Chapter 7.

“By the way, I'm Nicholas,” I tried to lighten his mood a little. “My friends usually just call me Nick.”

The boy finally stopped and slowly turned towards me. He brushed his hair away from his face with long, thin fingers, revealing dark eyes, pouty pink lips, and the sweetest nose I'd ever seen.

Hi everyone! Here is a new part of the story with sweet moments between the boys 🥰😊 and some angst from the past.

Have a nice week! 🙂

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, M/F, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism

Word Count: 4.4k

Cross-posted: AO3

The next morning we had a small breakfast and packed up before we left. I quickly got rid of the rental car at the nearest drop-off point and we drove most of the way in Noah's car. We listened to music, Noah singing Taylor Swift while drumming his tattooed fingers on the steering wheel, and I watched him sleepily out of the corner of my eye, my head resting on the headrest of the seat. It was especially good that I didn't have to drive much, because I didn't sleep well that night. Although I reassured myself that nothing had happened - and this was also confirmed by the fact that Noah showed the same - negative emotions still swirled in me. Guilt that Maya deserves better than me. I'm afraid one wrong word or touch and I'll lose Noah because there's no attraction worth even risking our friendship for. I started whipping myself over and over when I thought about it. I can't act so stupid, I'm a grown man who has been in a serious relationship for almost eight months now, not a stupid little teenager who has no idea about the world.

“Everything is alright? You're very quiet today," Noah remarked, turning down the radio, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I slept badly,” I answered in a hoarse, sleepy voice, and at least I didn't lie to him with that.

“We will stop at the next gas station. I'll buy you a coffee,” he promised and smiled kindly at me, which I tried to return.

"I might not be the best company today," I said apologetically.

“You don't have to talk to be good company,” he looked at me sideways from under his sunglasses. "It calms me down when you're near me," he added much more quietly.

I pursed my lips, closed my eyes under my sunglasses, and wished he wouldn't be so nice to me all the time. It was as if his comment had fueled that strange feeling in me, which was pleasant, but I had to suppress it as soon as possible, because it would only cause my loss in the long run.

After a few minutes we pulled into a gas station parking lot, but Noah didn't get out of the car immediately. He unbuckled his seat belt, took a deep breath, and turned to me.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” he began, which immediately made me pay attention to him, and suddenly the dream escaped my eyes. “My morning wasn't the best, and then…” he shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes “and then Karin called me saying she wanted to meet.”

Oh. I didn't expect him to talk about it, even though I could have learned by now that if I gave him enough time, sooner or later he would pour his heart out.

“What did you say to her?” I asked breathlessly.

“I said it's over. Everything, that was between us.”

My mouth twisted into a proud smile.

“I think you made the right decision. You've already finished it once, there would be no point to continue and hurt each other.”

"Yeah…" he said thoughtfully.

I swallowed the thoughts of how badly the girl had affected him, and that he could find a thousand better women than her if he wanted to, because I really didn't really know what kind of mental state he was in, and I felt that it would not be constructive at that moment.

“If you want to talk about this or anything else, I will be happy to listen to you at any time,”I said instead of my judgmental thoughts. Noah's grateful look made it worth it.

“Thank you. I don't know how to thank you for caring so much about me.”

“For a start a big cappuccino will do,” I joked with him to lighten both of our melancholic moods. Noah smiled but still didn't go. I could see he wanted to speak about something else.

“About what happened in the afternoon�� I think it's also due to my fucked up mood.”

I blinked a few times and remembered our conversation two days before when we slept in the same room after stargazing and Noah apologized even then, though he didn't say exactly why. I felt that it would be no different now, but something told me that it would be better for both of us if I didn't mess this up. Besides, I felt equally responsible.

"Yesterday afternoon was particularly good," I said honestly, because no matter how messed up the ending was, we laughed and talked a lot before it, everything was almost the same as before.

Noah pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and scanned my face.

“So isn't that why you're in a bad mood?”

I'm in a bad mood because we almost kissed in the lake, completely attached to each other's bodies? Because I almost cheated on my girlfriend with my best friend? Or because I loved every minute when our bodies touched? Is the reason for this messed up mood that I get into the room, half lying on the floor, because my cock was throbbing so much after hearing his moans that I didn't even have the opportunity to sit on the bed? Or because of all the fucking sexy things my brain was creating and he was the main character in all of them? I have no idea what exactly the question was about.

“I'm tired, I could sleep here in the car, only my neck would hurt,” I answered. “Tomorrow, after a long sleep, everything will be much better.”

I really believed in this, because when I'm rested, it's much easier to cope with any test that life throws at me. Maybe I felt tired and bored, that was just a bad move and I could screw everything up - if I haven't done it yet - but tomorrow, fresh, I will definitely see things in a better light.

"Okay," Noah agreed thoughtfully, then grabbed his wallet and hopped out of the car. “A cappuccino, as you said. Anything else?” he asked with a smile as he leaned in the door.

“A chocolate chip cookie, please.” I returned his smile when he nodded.

He put on his sunglasses and pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head. While he went into the store, I got out to stretch my legs and smoke a cigarette.

I was already getting back in the car when I saw Noah exit the small shop at the gas station and start heading back, but it seemed I wasn't the only one who noticed. He was stopped by a middle-aged woman with long red hair and a younger girl. I could tell by their body language how excited they were when they started talking. His presence has probably made their day better, but maybe even their whole week. I watched him as he bent down a little so the height difference would not be too disturbing, as he smiled restrainedly, but kindly, and paid attention to them. I felt a pleasant feeling move in my chest because I was in such an advantageous position that I could receive this attention at any time. Noah nodded, then smiled as they took a few selfies, he held the phone with his long arm. He pulled his hoodie up over his forearms, the muscles on which were tense and his dark tattoos glistened in the sunlight. His hair fell forward as they checked to see if the pictures were okay, and I wondered if I had ever felt as much desire for another man as I did for him. The answer was clearly no.

In high school, we were told a thousand times that we were gay because of our long hair and eccentric style, but I never seriously thought about the possibility, because for me the girls were interesting enough, anyone could say anything. Our friends also looked at us strangely when they found out that I lived with my best friend, but they didn't ask about it too much. Did Noah feel the same way? I remember a long time ago, at a party, he kissed a guy, but it was just a silly, drunken challenge, not a real kiss, and it didn't last more than a few seconds. He always had girlfriends and it never occurred to me that he might even be bisexual. And then there was Noah's mom…who loved to attack our friendship and all the good things that happened to her son.

It all started when two boys started teasing Noah at school, and one of my friends and I listened to it all. They made rude comments about his hair and figure, and when that didn't get enough of an impact and reaction, they started teasing him about having Asian blood in his veins. He was told that it was indeterminate whether he was a boy or a girl, just like in Japanese anime. I think this was the point where even though I hated conflict, I had to step in because I absolutely loved anime. And I didn't understand why you couldn't leave a boy alone who just wanted to write his homework.

It only took a couple of well-selected sentences from Davis and a few condescending glances from me to make the young boys go away in defeat. They wisely decided that it was pointless to confront the three of us, especially since my friend and I were several years older. We had a fist-bump with Davis, who immediately left for class, and only then did I turn to the boy, who got up from the bench and started packing his things back into his bag. His hair fell into his face as he leaned forward, his movements looking nervous. I've never been the type to initiate acquaintances. I hated big company and could only really open up to a small circle of friends, but… I felt I had to open up to him. Little did I know then that I was making the best decision of my life.

“By the way, I'm Nicholas,” I tried to lighten his mood a little. “My friends usually just call me Nick.”

The boy finally stopped and slowly turned towards me. He brushed his hair away from his face with long, thin fingers, revealing dark eyes, pouty pink lips, and the sweetest nose I'd ever seen.

"I could have dealt with them alone," he declared instead of introducing himself. I wasn't mad at him though, I knew he was still in passive aggressive defense mode.

“I know,” I answered and smiled cautiously. I didn't want him to feel like I was laughing at him. “But I am desperately collecting friends who like anime.”

With this, I managed to remove some of the storm clouds from his face.

“How many friends do you have like that, Nick?” he asked with interest, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I hope you will be the first,” I answered honestly, for which I received a bright smile in response.

"Noah," he said, twisting his fingers, turning his gaze to the ground. "I mean, that's my name," he added, laughing nervously, looking up at me again.

"Noah," I said his name, just to know how it felt. I loved it.

In the weeks that followed, Noah easily fit into my group of friends. No one really noticed that he was three years younger than us. Even then he was almost as tall as me, and much more mature than his age would have suggested.

The summer holidays were approaching, the students were less and less focused on studying and wanted to stay more and more outdoors. I couldn't wait for the bell to ring from our last class on Friday and it would be the weekend. Not because I wanted to party - I've never been a party animal - but so that I can finally get a good night's sleep and draw as much as I like. I was decorating the edge of my notebook throughout math class, and when the bell finally rang, I was one of the first to get up, threw my things into my bag, said goodbye to the two boys I had been friends with for years, and stepped out into the hallway. Noah was leaning against the railing waiting for me, drinking a can of Coke and smiling when he saw me.

"Thanks for waiting," I told him as we walked out of the building. “This math class was dead boring.”

"I can't say that this was the most exciting day of my life either," he answered, smoothing his shoulder-length brown hair behind his ears. “But maybe it will get better from now on.”

“For sure. It is even more fun to sit in the church and listen to the teacher about nonsense.”

"Brr, don't even mention the church," he said with disgust on his face. I laughed to myself as he wrinkled his freckled nose, pursed his lips, and was visibly sick of even the thought. He said that his grandparents, with whom he lived, were very religious and forced him to participate in church work, even if it’s about repairs or fundraising.

We walked down to the front of the building when a bunch of young boys turned to us and giggled as we passed them. I saw in Noah that he was uncertain for a fleeting moment, but then he kept his head up and walked confidently.

“You shouldn't show off with me,” he remarked when we left the gate. “You must have noticed that I am not the most popular student.”

“Don't think I'm afraid of your classmates in diapers,” I snorted, touching my pockets. I couldn't wait to finally light a cigarette. I found the box with the lighter inside and took out a cigarette. I noticed Noah reach out his hand as well, causing my eyebrows to rise to the center of my forehead.

“What is that?” Noah asked.

“Aren't you too young for that?”

He just rolled his eyes, then grabbed my wrist where I was holding the box and took out a cigarette. He lit it with practiced movements and blew the first puff of smoke into my face, making me roll my eyes.

“Just because you're older, you don't have to play the adult.”

“Just because I smoke is not an example to be followed,”I retorted, but I couldn't take this conversation seriously either, and by the end we both laughed at each other.

“Don't worry, I already smoked before I met you.”

“Huh,” I squeezed my hand dramatically towards my chest. “Now a huge stone fell from my heart. I was already beginning to think that I had led you into trouble during our short acquaintance.”

“My grandparents won't be coming home until Sunday,” Noah explained as we got to their house. I looked up at the two-story building, which was surrounded by a large, well-kept garden, and nodded approvingly. It was the first time I visited them, only three weeks had passed since we met in the schoolyard.

"I guessed you were a little prince," I said with feigned seriousness. The house was about twice the size of the one I lived in with my parents and four siblings. Noah snorted, but didn't answer anything, he just opened the door with his key, and then we entered the hall one after the other. Even next to the coat hanger, the face of Jesus greeted me on the wall. It seemed that Noah was not exaggerating when he spoke about his grandparents' religiosity. I kicked off my shoes and continued to look around while Noah struggled with his tangled shoelaces.

“Who is she?” I asked, pointing to a beautiful woman in one of the paintings. Her brown hair was at least down to her waist and she wore a blood red cloak over her long dress which she held in her hands at her chest.

"Mary Magdalene," Noah answered as he straightened up. “She…”

"Many people believe that she was Jesus' lover," said a woman's voice behind us, and we both turned on our heels in surprise. "Hello, I'm Noah's mother, Elizabeth," the owner of the voice extended her hand to me with a soft smile on her lips. Her light brown hair was tied back in a bun, her nails were painted bright pink, and she wore a short black dress that showed off her long thighs. She looked barely over thirty, I would never have guessed she was Noah's mother. I would have guessed it was his sister.

“Good afternoon. I'm Nicholas,” I shook her hand politely. Her skin was hot and slightly clammy, her grip strong. Then we both turned to Noah, who was standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, not moving.

“Don't you welcome your mother?” asked the woman, raising the glass filled with whiskey she was holding to her mouth with a smile.

“Why are you here? “Noah asked, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don't have the right to visit my son?” Since Noah didn't appreciate any reaction, she drained the rest of the drink from her glass and continued: “Your grandmother mentioned that you will be alone. I thought this would be the perfect time to get back together.”

When Noah told me about his bad relationship with his mother, I thought they didn't get along because of some sort of teenage rebellion. I never thought that Noah could act so cold with someone when I got to know him so friendly and kind in the last few weeks.

I followed him up the stairs with furrowed brows as he started without saying a word to his mother. When we entered his room, he immediately locked the door and collapsed on the bed, broken.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know she would be here.”

“It's okay,” I reassured him immediately and fell down next to him. "She doesn't seems that bad," I added, but I saw that pained smile on Noah's face that I haven't been able to get out of my head since, and I kept seeing it in my mind as his mother stabbed him in the back over and over again just to see him suffer.

I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf to look through his manga. He said he would be happy to lend me any of them if I wanted to read them, and I chose two. Afterwards, I sat back next to him and we were talking about school, when my sketchbook, in which I used to draw, came up.

“Shall I show you?” I asked Noah. His face lit up as he nodded, so I reached for the ceiling and pulled my t-shirt over my head. Noah leaned very close to my shoulder, which was decorated with a fresh tattoo. My first tattoo, a beautifully crafted bird wing.

“I want to tattoo my entire arm,” I explained to him, while he touched my skin, as if he wanted to test whether it feels different over the tattoo. - I designed this too, and if I collect the money for it, we will continue. Maybe one day I'll be a tattoo artist, who knows…”

Noah nodded and struggled to break his gaze to look up at me.

“Your drawings are very good, there is no doubt that you have a talent for it,” he said honestly. “I want a tattoo too.” He bit his lip as he thought. Then he slowly pulled up his t-shirt and placed his index finger on one of the small scars on his chest.

“Do you think these could be covered? There was this car accident and… I broke a few ribs, and then in the hospital they put tubes in… here too,” he smoothed a hand over the side of his chest. “Although the doctors said that it will almost completely disappear by the time I grow up, I still want something on it.”

I didn't know that particular accident was so serious that he lost his father and everyone died except him. I had no idea, it had been many months have passed before he told me about that summer day.

“They can surely make it disappear,” I answered him, while my gaze involuntarily fell on his ribs, which almost pierced his skin. Noah might have noticed because he quickly readjusted his shirt and wrapped his arms around himself defensively. I hated myself for making him uncomfortable, it was the last thing I wanted. I also put on my t-shirt and smiled at him from under my eyelashes.

“Can I have some tea now?” I referred to his offer from half an hour before. Noah nodded enthusiastically, and while he ran down to the kitchen, I picked up one of the manga and started flipping through the pages. He left the door ajar, so I heard him approach cautiously after five minutes, probably to avoid spilling the contents of the mug on himself. I looked down at the bottom of the page I was reading, noted the page number, and closed the book. Then I heard Noah's mother's voice. His speech was slurred, I could tell even though he was half-whispering.

“Your grandmother must be proud of you for being gay. She must be happy to tell it in church.” The smile immediately melted from my face and I sat frozen on the bed. “Look at me when I talk to you!” Elizabeth didn't even try to suppress her voice.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Noah said quietly. His voice was laced with pleading and fear. My throat tightened. “Please…”

“More about who. Nicholas, if I remember his name correctly. Why would you bring a boy here and shut him up in your room?”

“Nick is my friend.”

“Who would want to be friends with you, baby?” asked the woman almost regretfully. “You are so naive, Noah. Everyone has an ulterior motive.”

My hands were clenched into fists, my blood pressure skyrocketed, and yet I didn't move. I was held back by my good upbringing, by the fact that my parents taught me to be obedient to adults. Later, I regretted a thousand times that I didn't stand by Noah and get him out of that family right away. That place was equal to hell on earth. I heard a door close and Noah finally entered the room. His hands were shaking, the tea between his fingers spilled onto the floor, but his face remained completely emotionless. I jumped off the bed and took the mug from him so he wouldn't drop it. This time, I locked the door and took out a pocket of tissue from my bag. He accepted without a word, wiped his hand, then threw it away and we sat next to each other on the bed.

"If you don't feel like staying, I won't be mad if you go home," he said without looking at me. He knew I heard every word of the conversation. His fingers dug into his thighs and his face went completely pale. I didn't really know what to do in such a situation. I felt uncomfortable, I was angry, but I wanted to help him feel good again. This was the most important thing, because over the weeks I slowly began to become completely addicted to his smile. I put the tea on the table and turned to him.

“Would you like me to go home?” I asked him because I had to know what he wanted.

Noah finally looked up at me. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes, his lips trembled.

“No. I want you to stay.”

His voice was childish, not the confident teenager I knew from school. I quickly realized that it was just a disguise, but I was relieved to hear his answer, because I would not have liked to leave him alone with that woman.

“Then I'll stay,” I answered and slowly smiled. It took a few seconds for him to return the smile, and even though it didn't quite reach his eyes, I was satisfied with that. “Which anime would you like?” I stood up and started watching the DVDs packed under the TV.

“Choose something. Surprise me,” he replied with a slight challenge in his eyes.

It was the first and last time we went to their place after school. Afterwards, we always ended up at our house, and Noah didn't seem bothered by my loud brother, my hysterical little sisters, or the fact that the hot water kept running out late at night and we were forced to take cold showers if we were immersed in the conversation. If the milk ran out in the morning, he made his porridge with water and didn't complain if we had toast for lunch. I noticed how strange it was when mom or I hugged him. Like he doesn't know what to do with it all and is confused. But it only took a few weeks for all of that to change and he almost started demanding touches.

Noah walked to the car and turned back to make sure no one was following him before getting in. I followed his approaching steps with half-closed eyes, trying to figure out what had changed. Where was the tipping point when I started finding him attractive. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't figure it out and that only made me more frustrated. Noah got in and handed me the coffee and the paper bag, then pulled the hood off his head.

“I hope it didn't get too cold,” he said with an apologetic smile.

I tiredly returned his smile and handed the biscuit back to him.

“Half of it is yours. And thank you.”

He didn't argue for a second that I wanted to share the dessert with him. He began to eat the cookie with gusto, while I drank my coffee thoughtfully.

“Noah…we'll be fine, right?” I suddenly asked out of nowhere. My voice sounded so scared that I was surprised by it.

He looked at me confused, with a small crumb on his mouth that I was tempted to wipe off, but luckily he licked it off before I could move. He swallowed the bite and looked deep into my eyes.

“Whatever happens, we will always be here for each other. You are the only sure point in my life. Believe me, I will do everything to be your sure point.”

I nodded and closed my eyes again. I think that was enough to make me feel better, if only a little.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #jolly karlsson #nick folio #nick ruffilo #noah sebastian #bad omens band #nicholas ruffilo #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic

7 notes · View notes

traumadumpwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Heavy trigger warning! This story includes heavy themes of ab*se, r*pe, self h*rm, mental illness and violence.

You can check out the other chapters by going on the Freedom tag on my page!

All likes and comments are massively appreciated

Freedom: A John Shelby mini fic

Chapter five: 5889 words

The next day, Alice woke up completely ecstatic for the evening ahead. She got dressed and made breakfast quickly, leaving plates out for everyone before heading straight to Ada's. The family would soon all be awake and downstairs before the food could get too cold and although it may not have been as good as her usual fresh breakfasts, Alice felt too nervous to wait around for John and make conversation with him.

The woman was giddy like a teenager and the anxiety of going on a date was hitting her hard.

"It's been a long bloody time, what if I've lost all my moves?" She had worried as she hopped on the tram to Ada's, her mind racing and body alert. Every minute, she looked over her shoulder in fear of seeing Jones or one of his associates. But luckily, she never did and soon made it to the dingy apartment.

"I wasn't expecting to see you today. Is everything okay?" Ada asked after welcoming Alice in, always expecting the worst.

Karl was sat on her hip, fussing as she gently rocked him. It was clear on Ada's face that she hadn't slept much and so Alice headed over to her as she answered.

"Yeah everything is great.. Do you want me to rock him for a bit? You look shattered."

Ada's face filled with relief and she quickly handed Karl over to Alice before collapsing onto the messy bed. He soon settled into her arms, gurgling and giggling up at her as she began to baby talk to him. The girl had an indescribable amount of love for Ada and Karl, still quite shocked by her best friend being a mum. The last time she'd seen her before coming back to Birmingham, she was a sweet yet rebellious seventeen year old girl. Now she was a grown woman, just like Alice, and that pained them both.

"Thank you." Ada finally huffed, still lying face up on the bed. "He does love his auntie Alice."

"And his auntie Alice loves him." She cooed before turning to her friend with a straight voice. "Where's Freddie? You look like you haven't slept for bloody days."

"God knows! Fighting for the bullshit bloody cause somewhere! I haven't heard from him in days! Who even cares at this point anyway?" She groaned.

Alice gently put Karl into his crib, who immediately started whining, but ignored it and headed over to the bed.

"No! See! Now he's upset again!" Ada groaned, going to sit up but Alice stopped her.

"He just wants attention. Let him whine. He'll be right back in Aunties arms in just a moment." She comfortingly said. "Right now we need to talk about you and what you want."

"Is that why you came over?" Ada scoffed. "To talk about my shitty marriage? Surely not."

"Well actually I came over because I need to buy a nice dress and John gave us some money to-"

Ada immediately shot up straight at her brothers name.

"What do you mean John gave us some money?"

"He gave me some money for a nice dress and shoes and you to get whatever you want I guess. Girls day on him he said." Alice handed Ada her note, seeing her face soften and then immediately tighten again, this time with a mischievous grin.

"So my brother is taking you out on some kind of date and you need a dress for it? Since when has this been a thing?" She chuckled.

Alice headed back over to Karl, rocking him on her hip to stop the whining before bashfully answering.

"I don't even know, we kissed some weeks ago and then last night I basically told him to man up and ask me out, so he did." She replied, earning a laugh from Ada. "Now he says I need to get some nice clothes for a nice restaurant tonight, so come on. I'll get Karl ready while you sort yourself out."

Ada beamed up at her friend, knowing that John had wanted her for years and feeling extremely pleased for him. Out of all her brothers, he would be the one to treat her right and she knew that.

"Okay, I do need to get some clothes for Karl, he's already growing out of the ones I bought a month ago!"

—————

The two woman and Karl spent a couple hours in the city centre, going to all sorts of shops and trying on all sorts of clothes.

Alice hadn't bought herself anything with money in a long time, let alone an item of clothing. And this was her first time ever buying a luxury item of clothing. She tried on many dresses, all the meanwhile receiving either extremely excited or brutal feedback from Ada on how each one looked.

"No one wears that neck shape anymore, are you trying to look like a nun?" She had teased as Alice looked the dress up and down.

"Yeah it's almost like I was locked away and kept out of the fashion loop for nearly six years, isn't it?" Alice scoffed back, making Ada feel guilty until the girl sent her a cheeky smile.

"Nah you're right though. Let's go somewhere else. I wanna look... seductive for your brother tonight."

"Eww." Ada groaned, pushing Karl's pushchair out of the shop, but soon they were both giggling again as they headed into the next boutique, everyone clearing their path for the Shelby sister.

As lunchtime hit, Alice still hadn't found a dress she liked, sitting in a bakery cafe and complaining about it.

"I just don't get it. They're beautiful dresses, so why don't I feel beautiful in them?" She groaned before taking a bite out of her cake. "Mmm these are fucking good though."

"Maybe it's just because you're not used to seeing yourself looking so.. done up. After all those years, it's probably messing with your brain a bit." Ada sent her a soft look as she cut up Karl's food. "I mean I'm surprised you're even willing to do half the things you've been doing."

"Like what? Relatively functioning as a human being?" She teased, earning a scoff from her friend.

"Stop acting like what happened was just this minuscule thing that everyone can just brush over. It's amazing that you're even alive, you've got to give yourself more credit... I mean choosing a job at The Garrison of all places, if it were any other person I think she'd be terrified of men forever."

"I still am slightly terrified of them." Alice quietly admitted. "But I can't let myself be.. I have to be strong and unafraid. That's the only way to survive. Or else he wins."

Ada knew there was no use questioning the girl and her method of dealing with things, instead reverting the conversation back to shopping and the baby talk they were engaging in with Karl.

"I've got everything I need, with change to spare. There's one more dress shop down here, maybe when you look at these ones; try to remember that you're the beautiful Alice fucking Shepherd. Not whatever he made you be."

Ada's words definitely helped, boosting Alice's confidence as they tried on the next few dresses, actually feeling like they belonged on her this time. She wasn't just some impoverished, grubby girl poorly masquerading in a rich person's dress; she was a beautiful, enticing woman who deserved to wear something to match that beauty.

A long sleeved, turquoise dress suddenly stood out on the rack to her. The material was soft, covered by a symmetrical mesh pattern with the occasional line of sequins sewed in. It's v shaped neckline and low cut back would be slightly ever so revealing, as would the skirt that cut just at her knees, but at the right level where it wasn't too scandalous.

Once she tried it on, she was set on buying it, only encouraged by Ada's excitement as the tailor sewed in the waist for a tighter fit, accentuating her hourglass frame. Even the grumpy shop owner complimented her; claiming "if that dress were made for anyone, it's you."

The shoe shopping was easy, almost any sexy pair of black heels being satisfactory - as long as the heels weren't too high. Ada and Alice used to confidently strut around in three inch heels when they'd sneak out at night as teenagers and whilst Ada retained the trait, Alice hadn't worn heels in years. She secretly feared that she wouldn't be able to walk in them - feeling as if it would show her weakness; the forced change that she'd been through. But instantly upon walking along the cobbled street, her strut was as perfect and confident as ever before, putting a small spark in her belly and a grin on both her and Ada's faces.

—————

Now Alice was sat on Ada's bed as she styled her hair, Karl finally falling asleep and leaving the two women with some comfortable quietness whilst they discussed the night ahead.

"You know, I still can't believe you've been snogging one of my brothers and didn't tell me about it until today!" Ada snickered from the bed, a glass of wine in her hand. "That is so Alice fucking Shepherd of you!"

"What does that even mean?" Alice turned to her for a second before focusing back on the grubby vanity, attempting to style her hair. "I've heard so many people say that yet no one has ever explained it."

Ada took a sip from her glass and sat up straight before answering with a smile.

"In this instance it means you're unpredictable and maybe ever so slightly scandalous." Both of them giggled at that. "But I guess for other instances it would mean other things."

"Like what?" Alice said.

"I don't know like if someone were to attack everyone in the room because they were stopping her from slitting her wrists with a rusty fucking-"

"Okay, okay I get it." She cut off her friends retelling of the story with a playful side eye. "So if someone does something completely irrational, unpredictable and potentially scandalous or violent - you'd call it an Alice Shepherd."

"Yeah, pretty much." Ada answered shortly, causing the two women to giggle again.

"Anyway, that wasn't the original point. The original point was that you're going out with my fucking brother! That's so gross!"

"I think it's quite sexy actually." Alice teased before taking a sip of her brandy, Ada fake gagging in response.

Another hour passed of them drinking and chatting, Alice even using some of Ada's makeup to "properly doll herself up" as the woman had put it. She felt the nerves in her stomach getting worse by the minute, although the drink did calm them a bit.

It was at seven o clock, on the dot, that a car horn came from outside. The two woman turned to each other ecstatically before Alice rushed out the door, instantly feeling more relaxed when she saw the handsome man leaning cooly against his car.

"Wow. You really did get your moneys worth with that dress didn't you." John said, quickly eyeing her up and down before making eye contact and sending a cheeky grin. "Fuckin' gorgeous you are!"

"You're not looking too bad yourself you know?" Alice shot back although she was secretly going crazy with butterflies. "That a new suit or something? I don't see any blood on it."

He opened the car door and gestured for her to step in, looking gentlemanly until he rolled his eyes and teased her back with "You're not one to talk about blood stains."

She scoffed but nonetheless took his hand as she stepped up into the passenger seat, he soon beside her in the drivers. His hands went straight to a compartment by the wheel, pulling out two cigarettes and a lighter, casually chucking them on to her lap.

"Well let's hope I won't be getting any blood on this tonight." She took one of the cigarettes and lit it as John started to drive.

"There won't be no blood. Not tonight." He quickly ran his eyes along her again before focusing back on the road. "Definitely not with you looking like that."

The drive into the city centre was short but full of flirting, both of them growing more giddy by the minute.

John had been hyping himself up all day for this night, letting it stew in his head until it started to wind him up. However, as soon as he laid his eyes on the woman - a comforting grin pasted on her glowing face - he felt his anxiety fade and a feeling of awe and relief overflowing him. Her teasing didn't make him nervous, instead it made him more excited to be around her, constantly intrigued by what she'd say next.

Once they reached the restaurant though, her teasing stopped. Instead she was silent as she looked around at the gilded pillars and crystal chandeliers.

"This place is super fancy, John!" Alice whispered, looking around at the artistic decor in disbelief. "Are you sure this dress is nice enough? I feel underdressed."

The way her eyes looked up at him, looking so innocent as she showed a slip of insecurity, made his body stir and he moved his arm so that it was gently gripping her waist.

"Yes. I promise that dress is more than nice enough." He spoke quietly with a chuckle in a way that brought her comfort.

Some heads turned as they were walked to their private booth; either enamoured by the presence of a Shelby or the beautiful woman strutting alongside him. They were both aware of the stares but unbothered; John feeling proud to be seen with such an enticing woman whilst Alice was focusing on the glamour of the room she'd found herself in, never before having set foot in such a high class place.

Once they reached their table, Alice immediately started talking; awe still evident in her eyes.

"John, this is the poshest place I've ever been! Look at all these paintings and the architecture! Do you come here often?"

"Every so often with the boys, yeah." He replied, picking up the menu and quickly skimming through it before handing it across the table. "What do you want?"

As her eyes scanned the menu, they got wider by the second, each price getting higher than the last. She knew that John could afford it, but she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at the thought of him spending that much money on her. If it was any other man, she would've gone for the most expensive option with no hesitation and felt nothing about it. But John made her soft and as much as she hated it, she also loved it.

"It's so expensive here, I don't know-" Alice started to speak unsurely but John interrupted her.

"Stop it with the humble shit. You're Alice fucking Shepherd, you're worth every penny I spend tonight and every penny after, you got that?" He was playfully dominant, in a way that made her want to submit but naturally she fought back, quickly switching back into her confident role as her brain had been trained to do so.

"Okay." She winked, looking through the menu again.

John hadn't taken his eyes off her since they sat down, seeing her posture, tone and position change with each of her mood swings. He was starting to be able to read her; when her self esteem would suddenly drop to when her false defences would just as quickly come up. It made him think about all the time he'd spent intimidated by her as a kid and how it was all just an act then too; that Alice fucking Shepherd was never really the big, bad wolf everyone saw her as. She was just a scared kid - just like he was.

That intense trail of thought was cut off though by the sound of Alice telling her order to the waitress, John following by saying "Just get me the usual."

The waitress didn't take long to bring their drinks; a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey. Both of which were quickly opened and being sipped on.

"So, how was shopping with Ada and Karl? I've heard he's a big fan of you." John said.

"It was really good actually, thank you. I think she needed it more than I did, bloody Freddie leaving her all by herself with Karl. I ought to give him a piece of my bloody mind when he comes back." She started to ramble before seeing the amused grin forming on John's lips, playfully glaring and saying "How about you, how's your day been?" before he could tease her.

"Been a slow one, was mostly at the shop, thinking about what dress I'd be seeing you in tonight." He grinned.

"You're a really big fan of this dress aren't you? Did you even notice the hair or the shoes?" She rolled her eyes but also with visible amusement.

"Yes I did in fact, I even noticed the bit of rouge or whatever you ladies call it on your face. And that black shit around your eyes." He paused for a moment before continuing. "It looks good."

The playful flirting fired back and forth all throughout dinner, a game of sorts being played of who can make who react the most. It was a game that Alice used to play masterfully with almost every man she encountered, but John was a fair match - another thing she found riveting.

"I thought there was going to be dancing." She scoffed, putting her cutlery down as she finished her dish. "Where's the dancing John?"

"If you want to dance, get up and dance." He scoffed back at her with a grin. "Go on!"

"You're the one who said we'd go dancing! Why don't you dance!"

"Because I won't look half as good as you doing it." He put his cutlery down and gestured for a waiter to come over as he spoke. "And anyway, I thought maybe that you could do some cooking and we just dance together like that one night, you're a good cook after all."

"What, tonight? After all this food we've just eaten?"Alice shot him a confused look.

"No obviously not tonight. Another night." He send a cheeky smirk, earning a fake gasp from Alice.

"So we're going on another date are we?"

"I recon so, don't you?" The smirk had fallen slightly and she could tell that he was serious, maybe even slightly nervous.

She raised her eyebrows with a grin, her eyes locking with his as she replied "Yeah I do recon so."

His cool facade instantly resumed and he finished his drink, pouring himself another one before speaking again.

"So how come you're so good at cooking now? Can't remember you ever being in a kitchen if it weren't to bother someone." He chuckled. "All that time away must've taught you that at least."

Alice too poured herself another drink before speaking, a flicker of painful memories momentarily flashing through her mind.

"Well one of the only things I was let out to do was cook. The other women taught me some things I guess, even though they were a bunch of bitches. And it's not like I ever got to eat much of what I made, if any at all." Her gaze settled onto the glass in her hands, her body freezing as she talked - a completely different atmosphere enveloping the table as John intently listened, taking note of the empty stare she displayed; like a soldier retelling a war story.

"He did it on purpose, to make me cook the food, have to smell it and plate it up for everyone.. and then maybe get someone's scraps if I'm lucky... I would sneak food sometimes but when I got caught.. I-" Her breath caught in her throat and like snapping out of a trance, her body started to move again, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a big gulp before finally looking up at John's face.

"Can we go? I want to get a big bottle of something and go drive around in the country. I want to be outside and feel free. Does that sound stupid?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, shocking John with the sudden emotion she was visibly burdened by.

"I-I'm sorry. I just-" she started to stammer but John cut her off, putting his hand on her knee under the table.

"What you sorry for? That sounds like a great idea! Let's do it now!" He grinned, instantly soothing her anxiety.

As they left the restaurant, picking up two bottles of wine and a bottle of whiskey as they did, he continued with his excited front despite his mind starting to wander back to violence, desperate to kill this man and any other who'd dare hurt Alice.

His arm stayed wrapped tightly around her waist from the table to the car, feeling protective but again also having pride for being seen with her as the envious eyes scanned him.

Instantly upon getting in the car, Alice opened one of the wine bottles, chugging from it in an attempt to get her teenage confidence back.

"Did I actually, really just nearly cry in front of a man on a date? This can't be right." She thought to herself. "I'm Alice fucking Shepherd.. But I don't even know who the fuck that is anymore."

"So any particular place in mind?" John chuckled, watching her as he lit a cigarette, his mind also racing despite his cool demeanour.

"Anywhere. I just want to feel free." She quickly answered back before continuing to chug the bottle. He thought for a moment before taking it from her hand, earning a sharp look of confusion from the girl.

"Look Alice, I'll take you anywhere." He moved a hand to cradle her face, her eyes instantly softening. "But it's not gonna make you feel free."

As much as Alice knew his words were true, she hated to hear them and resumed her previous glare; pushing his hand from her face so that she could look away, fearful of showing him real emotion.

"What is then?" She bitterly muttered, turning to face the window. Only for a second though as his calloused hand softly reconnected with her cheek, bringing their eyes together again.

"I wish I could tell you, but shutting off and going all moody definitely won't." He said in his comforting tone that couldn't help but bring a smile to Alice's face.

"See look how beautiful you are when you smile!" He grinned, only making her smile widen and her face start to go pink.

"Is that a blush I see? I think I've won this round." John chuckled as he finally started the car, moving one hand to rest on her thigh as soon as the vehicle was in motion.

"Yeah sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Alice shot back with a giggle, pretending not to notice the strong hand wrapped gently around her sensitive thigh.

A few moments of silence passed until John decided to continue the conversation from earlier, determined to get some real answers as to what had happened to her.

"So anyway, you were saying.. what happened when you got caught taking food?" His hand moved from her thigh to the gear stick, his eyes on the road ahead.

A heavy sigh left Alice's lips and she grabbed the bottle again, much to John's annoyance.

"Drinking ain't gonna make it go away. It's just gonna make you like Arthur." He tutted.

"I know." She shortly replied before softening again. "I just.. I need you to promise that you won't think of me differently. Not as tainted or disgusting. You promise?"

John turned back to her with sincere eyes. "I promise."

As soon as she started to tell the story, her body stiffened and her voice went dull as it had earlier.

"Well, he would usually just beat me up, force himself on me." She began instantly sending a shiver down John's spine.

"I don't think there was one time I actually said yes to him putting that thing in me. Most days I spent locked in this tiny caravan, or chained up just outside it with the dogs.. He found that real funny and his friends did too." Her gaze was fixed on the view out the window and her grip on the bottle tightened, taking another heavy swig before she continued.

"They put out cigarettes on me, whipped me with the metal tips of their belts, cut me and carved me, just for their own sick pleasure. He even let them all take turns with my body.. that was the worst punishment of them all."

Despite the numb, dissociative spell she had put herself in when she'd started talking; her eyes began to water and her voice began to shake, the tough fortress falling with every word. John on the other hand, was having the realisation that whatever she went through was far worse than he'd ever imagined, possibly worse than what he'd seen at war, and perhaps pushing her for answers was a cruel thing to do.

His hand moved back to her thigh in an attempt to comfort, instead making her flinch as her body relived the trauma and all of a sudden there were thick trails of tears running down her face - much to her embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. You probably think I'm so weak and disgusting now-" she began to stammer but John cut her off, parking suddenly so that his eyes could focus on her instead of the road.

"Alice, you are the furthest thing from weak and disgusting I have ever seen. Don't say that about yourself." He moved his hand from her thigh to cradle her face, gently wiping her tears with his thumb.

In front of him was the injured lamb that he'd suspected to be hiding inside the hungry wolf, although maned and bleeding much more than he'd ever imagined. It was a sight he found himself shocked to see - much like the night she ran into the road and catapulted herself back into his life - he knew he needed to comfort her now, make actions later.

She was blushing deep red, feeling so vulnerable and yet so secure in John's hands, his words being more comforting than he could ever know. Yet for some reason, more tears fell from her eyes and a sob escaped her mouth as she became more emotional by the second. John reached over to hug her before realising the impracticality and jumping out the car, pacing to her side and opening the door before enveloping her tightly as she fell into his arms.

"That man is a sick bastard and I'm going to see to it that he and every other fucker who ever laid even a finger on you, gets their fucking heads bashed in. Okay?" He spoke quietly in her ear, trying to maintain a soft tone but some words being laced with palpable venom, something he quickly swallowed down upon realising it probably wasn't too comforting to a woman scarred by violent men.

She just continued to sob into his arms, appreciating the sentiment but knowing Jones and his men were impossible to track down. It wasn't like she hadn't already told the stories to Ada, crying her heart out over a shared bottle of vodka, but for a reason she couldn't place, telling John was an extra level of emotion to deal with.

It was upsetting for him too as he knew not what to say to console her, feeling her shake with every quiet sob into his chest.

"Alice Shepherd, you are so fucking strong and beautiful. The most strongest and most beautiful woman I've ever bloody known, you know that right?" He softly spoke, rubbing circles into her back with one hand while loosening the other arm, hoping she'd look up at him.

Still, her face stayed glued to his chest, feeling embarrassed for him to see any more tears. John knew that - as he'd said before; certain things Alice did were very predictable.

"Come on, I wanna see those beautiful eyes." He whispered. "And I wanna hear your voice too. I wanna hear your laugh, I missed that when I was in London."

That surprised her, sparking a small light in the dark storm inside of her head.

"Really?" She looked up with wide eyes, the innocent little girl she never got to be slipping out for a second.

"Yes, really." John smiled, moving a hand to stroke her face again as he found himself completely enamoured by her in the pale moonlight - her tear stained eyes glistening and her nose pink.

"Well I guess I missed your laugh too." She sniffled, the corners of her lips starting to rise.

"You guess?" John shot back with a chuckle, earning a giggle from Alice which he immediately reacted to by proclaiming "See! That's what I want to hear!" only earning more giggles from the girl. "Like bloody music to my ears!"

"God John, you're really something else aren't you?" She smiled with a small sniffle, dabbing her wet eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

"I'm something else? Please, you're Alice fucking Shepherd. Don't ever forget that." He grinned, placing another kiss on her forehead before going to step back. She stopped him though, grabbing his hand as she placed her lips on his.

The kiss was a short one, but it was enough. They were soon back in the automobile, drinks in hand as John drove out of the city, determined to give her the best night possible.

Once John had finally reached the countryside; parking up in a random field, Alice immediately jumped out of the car with an excited giggle. She had finished one of the wine bottles during the drive and now had the second one in her hand, something that John had stopped protesting once hearing her story.

It was clear to him that she just wanted to completely forget it and never talk about it again - atleast for that night - and so he didn't ask any more questions about her husband or the experiences with him. He didn't really want to know anymore anyway; not if it wasn't the details necessary to find and kill the men.

Instead, their conversations had drifted to humour and flirtation - Alice's eyes drying up and her mood seeming as if nothing had even happened.

The moon was at its peak in the star filled sky, lightly illuminating the land. John got out of the car slower than Alice, chuckling at her excitement. He was also drunk, although not as much, and watched as she took off her heels and gently placed them on the hood of the car, her face continuously beaming as she did it.

"Why you taking them off for? It's just a bloody field, surely you've been in many." He stepped over and loosely draping his arm around her waist.

She turned to him with a grin, the stars reflected in her awe filled eyes.

"I have, but now I can do this."

Before John could ask what, she suddenly took off running, whooping and happily punching the air as she did. It took him a moment to react, confused for a second as her laughter echoed across the empty field.

"She's always gonna be a fucking nutter." He thought endearingly "God, I'm fucking whipped aren't I?"

The man chuckled to himself before taking off running after her, joining in with the whooping and laughing. They did this for a bit of time until John stopped, heavily breathing whilst watching Alice now just spinning around in circles.

"How long did you want to do this for?" He asked, prompting her to finally stop spinning and dizzily look at him.

She was too heavily breathing, chuckling in between her breaths as she stumbled and oo fell, laughing even as she hit the ground.

"I think I'm finished now. Just haven't been able to do that in a long time." She laid flat on the grass and looked up at the sky. "The grass feels different when you actually want to be in it."

John looked at her for another moment, seeing how content she was with just the simplest pleasure giving his gut a certain satisfaction.

"I'm sure it does." He said quietly, lowering so that he was sat down next to her.

"Do you wanna know what feels even better though?" Her voice was laced with amusement.

He laid down flat so that he was too looking up at the sky before answering "Go on, tell me."

Not a second passed before she was suddenly straddling him, running her hands along his chest with a smirk. It shocked him slightly and he almost let out a small gasp when he first felt the pressure of her crotch against his. He quickly relaxed again though, sitting up with a grin and putting his arms around her waist as she began to pepper his neck with kisses.

Slowly, she lead up to his lips and started to softly gyrate her hips against his. He immediately kissed back, his hand starting to grip her waist as the grinding intensified. They did this for a minute before finally breaking apart, their eyes intently staring into each others.

As soon as he made the eye contact, it became clear just how intoxicated Alice was and snapped him back to the reality of their earlier conversation. Doing this with her would be a huge betrayal of trust, it would be taking advantage of her in the most vulnerable state he's ever seen her in - something that she would surely hate him for in the morning. So, as much as he loved how she felt, his cock pleading with his brain to shut up, he placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her.

"You're fucking wasted Alice, I'm not going any further." He chuckled at her confused expression.

"Oh!" She pulled away entirely. "Do you not want to?"

He could see that she was about to get off of him, so he quickly put his hands back on her hips with a comforting smile.

"Of course I want to... I just don't think it's a good idea right now."

For a second, Alice felt a pang of rejection, but his calm tone sobered her mind slightly and she realised that he was right for many reasons. As much as she wanted him; to please and submit to him, there was a part of her that still felt fearful of that and everything it could mean, and so she nodded in agreement.

"Maybe when we're sober, aye?" John winked and pecked her forehead, earning a small giggle from the girl. "You've gotten me far too drunk and now I've got to drive us home! You're a naughty girl Alice!"

"You don't have to drive us home anytime soon! We just got here!"

(Dress inspo loosely based on image although you can imagine it how u want but I think this style is true to the era)

14 notes · View notes

raging-violets · 1 year ago

Text

The Night Witch Chapter 34 || FFN • AO3

"Yeah, I guess I understand that," Brielle said, voice turning quiet. "You want to be sure the love is true." Susan stopped. Oh. Oh! She looked Brielle in the eye, finally understood what was making her friend worry so much. "You think Peter's still in love with Diane, don't you?" Brielle looked at Susan from the corner of her eye. "Well, he's always going to love her. You know that. But that doesn't mean that he's not going to be able to have some love for you as well. You can love more than one person; I love you and my brothers and sister equally. I love my mum and dad. I love Narnia…" "How can he love a servant rather than a queen?" Brielle asked bluntly. She folded her arms. "I'm not saying I don't enjoy my life; I do. I don't want to run an entire country—" "—if you marry Peter, you'll be the High Queen—" "—and I'll take that with the name but I'm not going to be the one to make the rules," Brielle interrupted. "No one would follow me. They'll just look at me as a lonely servant, as your lady in waiting, as…his…bloody mistress and nothing else." "You mean those rumors that are going around the castle? Since when have you cared about what anyone else has to say? You disregarded Peter telling you to stay with Lucy back when we went on that blitz on Miraz's castle and went to fight anyway." Brielle looked at Susan like she was stupid. "Well, I needed to make sure you were okay. That's my job." "And you didn't stop to think about your safety at all. You wanted to come in and do what you could for Narnia, and for us, because you love everyone and everything here. You've grown to love it as much as the rest of us have in the time you've been here." She grasped Brielle's hands and firmly held them. "Your station in our life, your 'status' doesn't matter. If Peter wants to be with you and you want to be with him, then it's because it's what you want. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says. All that matters is what you think of each other." Brielle nodded. Something washed over her face for a moment, something Susan suddenly thought her friend didn't want her to see. Something of a dark look that sent a chill down Susan's spine. Almost like a sinister thought had crossed Brielle's mind in the seconds before the look went away and she appeared more serene. "So?" "So?" Brielle repeated. "Was it a good kiss?" Brielle let out a long sigh and stopped to rest her back against the wall behind her. Susan watched with a small smile as her best friend seemed to swoon directly in front of her. Something that lightly put it off because it was her brother, but at the same time was sweet. Susan hadn't seen Brielle genuinely interested in anyone since Lord Peridan just as Susan hadn't seen anyone genuinely interested in anyone since his late wife. Even if things didn't worked out… At least they would keep each other company with their bickering, Susan thought with a small, amused smile. "How was your kiss with Caspian?" Brielle asked in response. Susan smiled. "It was very lovely." "Yeah," Brielle agreed, voice going soft. "Mine, too."

Tag List: @darknightfrombeyond @farfallasunicas @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon

#narnia #narnia oc #narniadynasty #the chronicles of narnia #fic: the night witch #oc: brielle #peter pevensie #peter pevensie x oc #prielle #chapter update #by: riley

13 notes · View notes

lee--felix · 3 years ago

Text

[4:57pm]

pairing: Chan + Felix x fem!reader genre: fluff, timestamp wc: 667 warnings: Established relationship, implied polyam relationship, use of she/her pronouns, use of pet names (babygirl, sunshine), brief mention of food

"(your name), come on, you have to come out of there." Chan sighed, peeking under his desk only to find you curled into yourself, face red and sticky with tears.

"No." You croaked between your sniffles, giving a pathetic choke before the tears came again. "I'm worthless, everyone thinks so. I'll just stay down here forever." Your knees were pulled to your chest, arms wrapping around them as you tried to fold into yourself until you disappeared.

"Babygirl, that's not true. There's always going to be people online that say hateful things-"

"Then why does everyone say it? It's not just the people online, it's not just strangers. It people I care about, people that are supposed to love me!" Your voice began to climb in volume as you became more upset, feeling as though nobody could understand how you felt in that moment.

Biting his tongue at his words, Chan was grateful to see Felix in the doorway. He was definitely going to need backup for this, you hadn't been this upset in a while.

"I can't get her to come out." He said quietly, motioning for your other partner to join him. "I don't know what happened but she's really upset."

"It's... ah, it's a whole thing with her family. I'll tell you about it later." Felix shook his head, making his way into the room and plopping down on the floor beside the desk. "Can't imagine it's very comfy down there."

"I don't care." You said flatly, turning your head slightly to avoid his gaze. He sighed, offering his hand to you and letting it hang in the air as he spoke. "People... get mad. And they say things they shouldn't say." He seemed to think deeply about his word choice, pausing to gather his thoughts and convey them properly. "It doesn't mean those things are true. And it doesn't... make it okay for them to say things like that even if they're mad or if they apologize later." You shifted to place your hand on the floor, allowing Felix to lace his fingers with yours. "You're not worthless, or stupid, or lazy... you're not any of the bad things people say. You're so much more than the negativity around you."

Sniffling as another wave of tears made their way down your face, you slowly crawled out from under the desk as Felix wrapped you up in his arms. Chan soon joined you both on the floor, his arms layering on top of Felix's to wrap you up even tighter.

"You're worth so much more than words, I wish you loved yourself enough to believe that." Chan's voice was soft in your ear, the tears beginning to dry up as quickly as they came.

"You're one to talk." You responded, a slightly playful bounce in your voice as you subtly called him out on his own behavior. Felix snorted, giving the other Aussie a knowing look.

"Okay, okay. You got me. I should take my own advice, yeah? Well, I'll work on it if you promise to work on it with me." You hated ultimatums unless they came from Chan. He always had a way of wording them so they didn't sound so black and white, instead feeling like a soft nudge in the right direction. It was a softness you weren't used to, having grown up around negative reinforcement your whole life.

You nodded as you shifted to wrap your arms around Chan this time, silently agreeing to his proposal.

"Now come on, sunshine, you promised you'd make brownies with me today. I can't make them without you, who's gonna taste the batter to make sure it's sweet enough? I need you." Felix gave a playful whine, his deep voice contrasting the high pitched squeak you gave at the mention of brownie batter. Lifting himself off the floor and offering to help you as well, his trademark smile quickly swept across his face. "I'll even try that caramel syrup you bought me, c'mon."

general tag: @abiaswreck @nymeriaaa @lex-thesimpzzz @kp0p10v3r2 @wooyoungsbae @changsbin @hjsraccoon @hwxnghyunjin

sfw general tag: @yungisstar1117 @kun-flower @hwarora @queenmedi

skz sfw only: @daydreaming-my-life-away

Please fill out this form to be added to any of my tag lists.

#ficscafe #straykidsland #lee felix fluff #stayhavennet #stray kids #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz #bang chan #lee felix #don't mind me self soothing with fanfiction

259 notes · View notes

21st-century-ninja · 2 years ago

Note

Ahhhhh Fabro my beloved, again much congrats for this achievement!

📝 uhhhh I for the life of me can’t think of a good prompt lol so… surprise me! I know you know me good enough to know what I would like lol

aaah thank u rosie!!! i actually went into this one trying to purposely write h/c so you'll have to tell me how I did XD I gifted this to you on ao3 but lemme know if you don't want it and I'll take it off :D

got a crown on my head

setting: ns8 characters: Lloyd, Cole wc: 999 words other tags: oni!Lloyd, h/c ninbingo prompt: hugs on ao3 here

There's a saying that Lloyd heard once before, back before the prophecy had even been fulfilled, back when his father was still alive and he was just a little kid with overplaced confidence and a lack of understanding.

He'd been up to get a glass of water from the kitchen when he’d heard hushed voices. He’d plastered himself against the hallway wall and strained his ear for words.

“I feel bad for pushing him, but he has to be trained. Even if that means spending every waking hour preparing him for the Final Battle, that’s just how it’s got to be.”

“But he’s still a child!”

“He’s the Green Ninja,” Zane said, something heavy weighing his voice.

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," Kai'd added somberly, and there had been noises of agreement.

At the time, Lloyd hadn't really gotten it. There was no crown on his head, although it would have been sick if there was.

Now, years later, after the Overlord, after Morro, after Harumi – he does. The title of Green Ninja, the reality of being Garmadon’s son, have brought hardships down on his head time and time again.

Now, he might not be wearing an actual crown.

But the newly-grown horns sprouting from his forehead are just as heavy as any crown, figurative or otherwise.

Lloyd grips the edge of the bathroom counter, trying to calm his heartbeat. The ritual is over. They stopped the ritual in time, and Harumi’s being carted off to prison, and the ritual is over so why haven’t the horns gone away?

His head tips forward without his permission, unbalanced by the black points rising from his temples. There’s a horrible crunching noise as the tips of them sink through the wall. Panicking, green sparks fly at his fingertips as he boosts his power and yanks his head back with all his might. He goes crashing into the opposite wall, chunks of drywall and part of the beam still clinging to his horns.

“Ugh.”

“Lloyd!” Footsteps rush a suspiciously short distance to the bathroom door, and Cole’s voice lifts in concern. “Are you okay in there?”

Lloyd clenches his hands into fists. “No, sorry, I��m okay. I just-”

He trails off, unable to verbalize all that’s just wrong. Cole is silent for a moment. And then the bathroom door handle turns and he says, “I’m coming in.”

Lloyd doesn’t look up when he enters. All he hears is Cole’s quiet, small exhale, and then there are warm hands on his cheeks and his eyes raise to meet Cole’s. Cole smiles gently.

“There you are. Looks like you got in a bit of a pickle.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Lloyd grouses. He lets Cole pull away the debris, wincing at the tugs against his sensitive horns.

“Sorry,” Cole says, setting it all to the side. His fingers linger on his horns, his eyes on the color that darkens his fingertips. But he drags both of them away a second later and sits back on his haunches. “That better?”

“Yeah. Thanks. You know, I’m starting to think I should just live in here to avoid destroying anything else.”

He laughs. Cole doesn’t. Even without looking at him, Lloyd can feel the weight of Cole’s eyes. “But that’s not really the reason you’re hiding in here.”

Lloyd bites his lip. “It’s not.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

The words are non-expecting – like if he says no, Cole really will let him drop it. And it’s that of all things which has Lloyd’s mouth opening and spilling his thoughts.

"What if- what if everyone thinks I'm horrible now? That I'm a monster, now that I look like this?" He gives in and rests his forehead against his arms, taking the strain from his neck and probably screwing it up in a whole new way. “She said she was drawing on my oni traits to bring him back. That this has always been inside me.” He clenches his fists again. “Maybe – maybe I am a monster.”

If Kai were here, or Nya, they’d jump to Lloyd’s defense immediately. Cole is silent instead. But when he does speak, Lloyd listens with his full focus. "You know, I was a ghost this one time."

Despite himself, Lloyd can't help but snort. "'This one time'?"

“Shush, just listen!” Cole chides good-naturedly. He sits down beside Lloyd, pressing warm against his side as he leans back against the wall. “Yeah, I was a ghost, and it was right after ghosts had destroyed Stiix, remember? And I was just so afraid of people’s reactions. Like, I was the same now as the things that had ruined thousands of people’s lives. It would make sense for them to hate me.

“And yeah, sure sometimes there was a dirty look or mean comment thrown my way. And sometimes people would see me and clench their drinks like they weren’t sure if they wanted to throw them at me and watch me disappear.” He breathes in a shuddery breath. “Sorry. But do you know what made it bearable, especially for those first couple of months?”

He looks over at Lloyd, and his eyes are soft. “It was you guys.”

He reaches forward and unclenches Lloyd’s fingers, squeezing gently over the indents his pointed fingertips dug into his skin. “You never treated me differently – and when I say “you”, I literally mean you this time, Lloyd, even when you would have been totally justified to.”

He opens his arms. Like a magnet, Lloyd falls into them. Cole pulls him close.

"You're still the same Lloyd Garmadon, horns or not. And we’re still your brothers, oni or not. Got it?"

Lloyd resigns himself to the fact, again, that any kind words from the others are still enough to get him sniffling. Cole smiles into his shoulder.

“Hey, at least we stopped the ritual,” he says. “Just imagine: two oni running around Ninjago.”

Lloyd laughs wetly. “Yeah, no thanks,” he says. “I’ll pass.”

#ninjago #fic #my fic #lloyd #cole #ninbingo 22 #ninbingo #999 follower event

43 notes · View notes

vannybarber · 4 years ago

Text

The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

taglist:

@flattykawa1 @mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @fantasticinternetpizza @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @nicochantez @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @ppal3 @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessyballet @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @greatbatprofessordragon

i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

996 notes · View notes

buckydeniro · 4 years ago

Text

This Is Trouble

part 1

dad’sbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

a/n: okay, i’m prettyyy new to writing and this is my first jab at writing a series or something that isn’t a hc so please be gentle with me. this could be complete shit and suck ass but ya know what, oh well! i’m a slut for dad’sbestfriend!bucky so here ya go! i really hope you enjoy it!! :-)

summary: you didn’t plan this. he didn’t either. you thought you would come home from college, spend some time with your dad, and find a place for yourself to live. but you soon found yourself in a sexual tension filled challenge with your dad’s best friend. but what happens when feelings develop and they become too strong to deny?

"Dad." You groan as he covers your eyes with his hands. You had just graduated college and after a few days spent packing up your stuff from your apartment near school and saying your goodbyes to your friends, you're finally back home. Your dad had the biggest grin on his face when he picked you up and you had a feeling he was up to something even though he swore he wasn't.

Now with his hands over your eyes in front of the door of your childhood home, you knew he was up to something.

"What's going on?" You ask, hearing the sound of people shuffling and a few shushing each other behind the door. "I know you hate surprises but you're back home so you're going to have to deal with it for the sake of your poor dad who has missed his daughter." You chuckle, a smile pulling at your lips.

You loved your dad. Your mom left when you were fairly young, hadn't even hit the double digits age range yet before her and your dad decided it was best to part ways. She never called or wrote, just left. But you made your way with your dad.

The sound of the door opening shakes you from your thoughts. Your dad removing his hands from your eyes to reveal a moderate sized group of family and friends before you.

Your eyes go big the exact moment they all yell out "Surprise!!" A red hot blush rushes to your cheeks and you smile bashfully, never having been one to like being the center of attention. You don't catch it but if you did you would have seen your dads best friend leaning against the kitchen doorway, lips moving up into a smile at your reaction.

"Okay, this was a pretty good surprise." Your smile blooms from shy and uncomfortable to happy and touched. You immediately hug your father, "Thank you. So much."

He gives you a tight squeeze causing you to choke out, "Dad." Chuckling at him as he lets go, letting air refill your lungs.

"I'm gonna give you some time with everyone. Good luck." With a kiss to the side of your head, Everyone begins rushing up, congratulating you, hugging you, commenting on how much you've grown and changed.

After nodding at one of the older womans dramatized comments about how she could hardly recognize you now, you feel someone watching you. Your eyes smoothly and quickly find Bucky, and you're almost thrown off actual physical balance at how good he looks. Holy shit. You swallow, your stomach doing a flip. Okay, what the fuck was that, stomach?

Not only have you changed but so as he. You breathe in through your nose as you take him in. The light stubble dancing on his jaw, a tight black shirt, the chains of his dog tags peaking out from the shirts collar. See he still wears those, you think to yourself. His black jeans matching his black boots have you trying not to bite your lip. You blink and quickly turn away, zoning back into the atmosphere around you.

He's always been attractive but jesus, when did he get that attractive. I guess you've both grown.

Apparently the lady, Lila, had still been talking to you, unaware your attention was pulled elsewhere for a moment. Firing questions off at you at a rapid speed, not stopping to hear your answers. So she's basically just having a conversation with herself and you've been deemed the appropriate audience for aome reason.

You hear footsteps coming towards you, flicking your eyes up, you see Bucky walking and stopping right in front of you. Oh my god. He smells amazing. No. What the fuck are you thinking? Reign it in, Y/N.

"Lila, don't wear the poor girl out." His bright, friendly smile drifting from her to you and you can't help the smile mirroring his on your lips. "Oh, I'm not." She chides, squeezing your arm softly with affection, "But I'll go." She playfully sighs and walks away.

Bucky's eyes haven't left yours, that contagious smile still on his face. "Welcome home, kid." That Brooklyn drawl has you biting your lip as you smile. It was a completely innocent movement, a habit you picked up a few years ago but it causes Bucky to look down at your lips, quickly flicking his gaze back to you as he inhales, mentally shaking thoughts from his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes." You say politely. Bucky pulls a face and laughs, causing you to laugh along with him. Why is everything he does so contagious? He shakes his head as he speaks. "No, no, kid. Call me Bucky."

You nod your head once before pulling a face of your own. "Okay, but you can't call me 'kid' anymore. I'm 22, Bucky." The new 'title' leaving your mouth like an acception to a challenge.

He nods his head, lifting his hands up in mock defence, smirking at the way you said his name.

"Okay, okay. I got it. Y/N." His voice falls soft, almost sounding like he just found out what your name was and was calling you by it for the first time.

"Ah, Y/N, see you've caught up with Buck." Your dad grins, slapping a friendly hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Come on, party is out back."

Steve leads the way, both you and Bucky following. You purse your lips, fighting off a smile and Bucky snorts. "Party." You say quietly, glancing at Bucky as he retorts back speaking quietly so your dad doesn't hear, "Oh yeah, it's raging, can't you tell? Might just give them college parties of yours a run for their money."

You hum in acknowledgement, "You might be right, Barnes. But, I have been to some good ones."

"Barnes, huh?" You can't quite read the look on his face. All you know is that you're both looking at each other with some kind of playfulness, like the beginning of a new game has just started and you're on opposing sides.

"Mhm. Barnes." You overly dictate the 'B' in his name, drawing the 'A' out a bit, making a clicking sound with the side of your mouth, your focus forward.

Your dad turns around, clapping you softly on the shoulder, "Have fun, hon. One of the guys is calling for me. Sam! I'm coming!" You watch as your dad huffs, jogging up to his friend, swatting the spatula away from his hands, focus on the grill Sam was, I guess, butchering.

"So, you still do that." You turn your head back to Bucky, furrowing your eyebrows a little, tilting your head slightly, confusion lightly appearing on your face. "Do what?"

He puts his gloved covered hands into his jacket pockets, clearing his throat, "You make that sound when you're focusing on something or are nervous." There's a slight pause before he speaks up again. "You nervous with the get together or bein' back home or somethin'?"

You didn't realize you even did that. You were a little nervous but it wasn't because of the party your dad threw for you. It was because of Bucky. It's a good nervous but it confuses you none the less.

"Yeah. Just being back home." You nod, lips tugging up at the corner for a smile. "The change and everything."

Bucky doesn't look quite convinced but lets it go. Your attention is drawn forward, wanting to look anywhere but Bucky. The way he looks at you was fogging up your brain.

"You still wear the dog tags."

This time he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "I can notice things too, Bucky." You whisper with a smile, your attention turning back to him, causing him to chuckle.

"Well, they are mine, Doll." You both freeze. Fuck, he thinks. It just slipped out. He couldn't help it. He's fucked it now, shit. But you chew on your bottom lip, fighting back a smile but the hint of it is there and Bucky catches it and feels as if he can breathe again.

"Doll, huh?" You repeat his words back to him.

With a slight cocky tilt of his head, a subtle smirk and something dancing in both of your eyes, he throws it right back at you. Repeating your own words, the exact way you said them to him, "Mhm. Doll."

Before you could react, say anything, he had turned and casually walked away, yelling a hello at one of his and your dad's old friends and although you couldn't see his face, he had the biggest smirk on it. You let out a breath, not knowing what to make of yours and his interaction.

It was Bucky. Just Bucky. Your dad's best friend. He was just being friendly and teasing. Normal. But as you walk to grab a beer from the cooler near by, you can't help but question a little, "Right?"

Straightening your back, you feel eyes on you and you immediately know whose they are. Turning your head, you lock eyes with the brown haired man, taking a swig of his beer.

Your brain repeating the question again, "..Right?"

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au x reader #bucky barnes hc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!buckybarnes #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnea angst #marvel masterlist #bucky barnes masterlist

370 notes · View notes

greenygreenland · 4 years ago

Text

Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Norman x Reader

-MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-NOTE: YOU’RE BOTH AGED UP SO DON’T START TELLING ME FBI’S GONNA COME TO MY DOOR 😂😂

-THE TIMELINE IS A BIT MESSED UP SO JUST IGNORE IT COMPLETELY AND DON'T ASK ME LOL

-also, is it just me or do thick eyebrows look really cute??? Norman has pretty thick brows compared everyone else and I think they're cute

WARNINGS: Kissing lol

Summary: You finally see Norman again.

Life had to be the scariest thing you'd ever faced. It threw the bad, the good, the everything your way until you could barely stand. Until you were left broken and mangled and shattered. Life was scary. It was cruel. Yet somehow, today was different.

You thought it was a dream. After all, how could it be reality when the boy in front of you died a year and some months ago? He had been shipped out, left for dead because it was a part of his stupid escape plan.

So how was it he stood before you? Breathing? Smiling? Living?

The office door closed behind you with a soft click. It bathed the room in silence, as if for a moment, the world decided to give you a second to breathe. A second to take in the wonderous sight before you.

The boy's name stuck in your throat. He had changed, not only in height, but stature and appearance. Norman was older, and he grew up to be more handsome than any runway model could ever be.

"(Y/n)," he gently said. "I'm glad you're well."

That was all it took. One sentence and you tackled him in the tightest hug your trembling arms could muster. "Norman...!" To have his arms around you, to hear the beating of his heart--it was a relief. A miracle sent by the gods. "You’re so stupid!"

No, he was more than stupid. He had to be the dumbest boy alive to think that it was okay to sacrifice himself for the sake of your family. You all were supposed to escape together just like Emma said. No one was supposed to be left behind, yet Norman--bless his heart--acted on his own.

You hugged him as if he would disappear if you let go. "We were all supposed to leave together. But you--I thought you--shipped out--and then--!" You chocked on your words. What more could you say anyway?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The muffled sob that ripped through your throat was more than Norman could handle. His knees went weak and you both slowly sunk to the floor in a heap.

"I'm here." he gently said. "I'm not going anywhere (Y/n)."

Despite the steadiness in Norman's voice, his shoulders hitched, and he sniffled. "I'm here." he repeated. "I-I'm here." It sounded like he were reassuring himself that he wouldn't leave you so soon, as if he were scared too. Not for the way you sobbed and sobbed, but for the ache in his heart that seemed to beat in sync with yours.

Slowly, your sobs turned to quiet sniffles, which then silenced into nothing but tiny hiccups. You basked in Norman's warm embrace. He didn't hold you too tightly, as if he were afraid it would shatter you to pieces. Instead, he pulled you close to his side and leaned on his desk behind.

You rested your head on his chest, taking the time to memorise his scent. Parchment, the woods, and old books. You liked that, it was comforting to know he still smelled the same. On the other hand, his voice wasn’t as smooth or rounded as it once was. It was icy. No one seemed to notice that tiny sharpness that hit the end of each note he spoke. You wondered what could've made his kind heart harden.

Sure, Norman was still the same Norman you remembered, but something about the way he acted seemed off. He was clingy, much more than he ever was. Maybe he just missed you? No, that couldn't be right. Norman acted as if he were running out of time. He held you close and gently, as if these would be the last moments you'd see each other again. As if there wouldn't be a tomorrow.

You slowly pulled away to get a good look at Norman's face. His chin was slightly pointier, his cheeks less chubby and full. His lips twitched upwards into a comforting smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes because he looked so overwhelmingly tired. Your poor boy probably worked day and night to keep the hideout on its feet. It must be hard on him, you thought. Especially since he was revered as a god.

Norman's brows raised. "What's wrong?"

You took his thin hands in your own and gave them a good squeeze. "It's nothing. What about you?"

Ah yes, small talk. The perfect way to avoid any question thrown your way. Norman knew you well, sometimes even more than himself. When you asked simple questions such as these, that meant your mind laid elsewhere in a land he could never reach. Norman took that as a hint to drop the subject.

For now.

He wondered what invisible weight laid on your shoulders. Was it something as heavy as his? Perhaps your weight was worse and it ate away at you. Norman wished he could take that weight away and relieve you of that pain. He'd carry it all if he could, and it didn't matter to him if he'd die trying. This was you he was thinking about. He'd do anything for you.

"I've been okay," Norman vaguely responded. "But I have been busy, so I find it difficult to sleep sometimes.”

Norman liked to be honest, but you knew it was because that helped him figure out what was wrong with you. It was a game of tag. In this case being 'it' meant figuring out each others' worries through a back-and-forth match.

"You haven't been sleeping enough?" Your voice came out rather quiet as you traced invisible circles over the back of his hands. "Is that because you have so much work? Or do you refuse to get help?" Norman sat in a still silence and you sighed.

Of course.

This was your Norman after all. He always shouldered a burden too big for his shoulders to carry. It was always something so heavy, so terribly hard to balance by himself. If that burden grew any bigger, it would collapse, and that would be his downfall. But you wouldn't let that happen to your Norman. No, no, no. You'd take that burden from him, steal it if you had to, and be his crutch.

"What have you been doing here?" you quickly added. "As 'William Minerva', I mean?"

Norman looked unbearably uncomfortable. That little frown tugging at the edge of his lips was a tell-tale sign. “I’ve been getting a lot done." he carefully said. "In fact, I’ve figured out a way to end this. Once and for all.”

Norman began by explaining the first phase of his plan. The first phase had long been in motion. It started with the indiscriminate burning of cattle facilities, then the gathering of information, and continued on to pave the way for all the other phases you didn’t care to hear about.

The first few steps weren't too bad, but the final act in Norman's plan made your skin crawl. You half-wished you hadn’t asked him anything to begin with. Maybe it would have spared your appetite. Your grip on his thin hands loosened and loosened until your hands rested on your lap.

Norman wasn't so little anymore. He had grown up just a bit, but not in the way you wished to see. How could he think of something so cold-hearted and cruel? The extermination of all demons in Neverland was an act of genocide. If you re-called correctly, it was also considered a war crime.

Norman was smarter than that. He understood the consequence he'd have to face if that were the path he walked right? He understood that there were still other options right? Maybe you heard him wrong.

No.

You had to have heard him wrong. Norman wasn't ruthless like that. He was a ball of sunshine that made you smile whenever you were together.

"I see..." You tightly smiled. "So that's your plan on freeing everyone?" Norman nodded with a seriousness that took you back to the time he left everything to you and Ray and Emma.

You weren't mistaken then. Norman truly meant everything he said.

"Yes, that is my plan. It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion. I've decided to officially start tomorrow."

Tomorrow?

Your breath hitched. "Don't you think that's a bit hasty? What if...what if something goes wrong?" Norman smiled. It was hollow and wry and everything that he wasn't. "Don't worry. Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want." You didn't return the smile, and you didn't want to say why.

Norman was quick to catch on. But of course he would catch on so quickly, this was Norman. Your Norman.

"Do you have a problem with my plan?" he inquired. You shook your head. "No, it's...it's not that." Yes, it was that. Your plan is dangerous even if it is good, you thought. Innocent lives wouldn't be spared, and that would spell an unfair fate for the demons who ate to survive.

You wanted to tell Norman why his plan was wrong, and why he didn't have to be so unforgiving about it. But then what? Why would he listen when you didn't have any better ideas? He seemed to have his mind set anyway, so no half-baked ideas would make a difference. And besides, he was the smartest person you knew. Maybe that was the only way out of the terrible fate all you cattle children faced.

"If you're okay with my plan," Norman said, "then what's bothering you (Y/n)?"

"It's still a lot for me to take in," you admitted with a plastic smile. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're, well, here." Norman smiled, this time with a genuine warmth. "I understand." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'll see you at dinner."

Your cheeks burned. How bold of him. "Y-yeah, I'll see you at dinner." Norman let out a cute little chuckle that made your heart beat a little louder than it was supposed to. You hauled yourself off the floor and made your way to the door. Norman followed.

You flashed him a nervous smile, one that mixed in with your muddled worry and anxiousness. You glanced at his bright eyes. For a moment, they seemed to dim like the setting sun. It reminded you of Mama. When no one looked at her, she didn’t smile. She always looked so sad when she sat by herself, and maybe that was because she was.

"(Y/n)?"

Your fingers brushed against the doorknob. “Hm?”

"I want nothing more than to protect you and our family. I know you don't fully agree with me," his expression darkened. "But this is the way--the only way we can save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood."

For a moment, you forgot who you were speaking to. This wasn't the same boy you begged to run away with before he got shipped out. This wasn't the same boy who gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sweetly complimented you. This boy--did you truly still know him? Was he still the Norman you grew up with and fell head-over-heels for?

You blinked and that dark look washed itself off his face. He strode up to you and placed a hand on your cheek--just like the day he was supposed to be harvested. Norman’s eyes were soft, softer than any blanket, and his lips pursed into a gentle frown. With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear away.

Why were you crying?

"Norman..." You couldn’t find the right words. There were none that could explain the suffering you endured in silence. You worried, not only for Norman, but your family and all those other people in the world you didn’t know about. Norman’s plan--oh how stupid it was--had it changed him? Had it forced him to guard his heart to keep a still mind?

You wondered what he endured while you went on your crazy adventures. At least you had your family, and Yuugo, Lucas, and all your friends. But Norman? He didn’t have anyone but himself. He carried the whole world. Alone. Had he been scared? Worried? Angry that no one came for him? Your heart clenched at the thought.

"Smile,” Norman said. “It’s okay, I promise. I'm here." He gathered you in his arms and you didn’t have the heart to protest. “How?” you whispered. “How were you able to do all this on your own?” Norman helplessly shrugged. “You could say I have connections, either that or I’m just lucky.”

“What will you do after this is all over?”

Norman went still again, as if he couldn’t answer your question. You heaved in a shaky breath. If Norman wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, then you’d squeeze it out of him. “Did anything else happen to you? I’m sure there’s a catch, isn’t there?”

It was like someone flipped a switch. One moment, you were a mess of tears, sorrow, and anguish. Now, something menacing laid in your voice. It was almost threatening, as if you were indirectly telling Norman to dare avoid the question. “I don’t want you dying trying to be everything at once,” you said. “Here you’re revered as a god, and if I know you, then it’s plain that you set yourself up like that. Don’t tell me you plan to die on us again.”

He stiffened.

“I know you Norman, don’t forget that. And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself. I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again, but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.” You pulled away and took his hands in yours. A small smile of reassurance made its way up your lips, but Norman didn’t return it.

No, he couldn’t. And despite all he did, he couldn’t lie straight to your face. Not like this.

Dinner cheered you up. The smiles and laughter that your family shared with Norman made you feel just a little bit better. But how long would it last? And how long would those smiles stay present? All the questions swarming in your mind made you feel sick to your stomach. There was too much to think about, and too little time to answer them.

You forced down the last of your food with a sigh and brought the plate to its respectful place. Everyone was too busy chatting and catching up to notice, but that was fine. It was better that way.

You made your way to a secluded walkway. It was in one of the calmer areas of the hideout that overlooked the lower levels. It was quiet, save for the distant chatter of Hayato and his friends. He let out a bright laugh that echoed through the vacant walkways. What a shame it would be to hear that disappear.

“So this is where you went.”

“I told you she’d be here.”

You whipped around in alarm. “Ray, Emma!”

Ray sharply looked you up and down. He raised a brow and you squirmed under his gaze. He gently bumped shoulders with you. “What’s wrong with you?”

You absentmindedly shrugged. “Nothing.”

“That’s what someone who’s not okay would say.” Emma noted. She settled by your side on the railing and flashed a bright smile. “You were so quiet at dinner today.”

You shook your head. Que another absentminded shrug and plastic smile. “I guess I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

Ray sighed. “Everyone but you?” He leaned against the railing next to you. “Did you and Norman talk at all?”

You froze. ‘Yes’, was what you wanted to say, but no sound came out. The image of Norman’s matured face, the way his his soft lips hit your own, and his stupidly tall build crossed your mind.

Emma let out a gasp and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ah!” she cried. “You’re all red!” You covered your hands with your face, ignoring Ray’s curious stare.

“What did you two talk about in his office anyway? Or should I say, do?” The glint in Ray’s eyes had subtext you didn’t want to recite out loud. “Rayyyyy,” you grumbled, “shut up.” He sent you a teasing grin as Emma frowned in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Yeah, it’s grown up stuff.”

You ignored the warmth spreading to your cheeks and elbowed Ray. “Don’t say it like ‘that’! Now you make it sound like something else!”

He daringly raised a brow. “Like what?” You ran a hand over your scorching face. It was a miracle you weren’t on fire. “No, no, I’m not answering you!”

You shared a good laugh and a comfortable silence began to settle, blanketing your shoulders in a lightness that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Emma softly smiled. “I’m glad we found you.” she admitted. “You looked really sad all by yourself out here.” Ray nodded with a small snort. “Yeah, talk about depressing. But seriously though, did something..?”

Of course these two would see through your façade. Of course they’d understand something was wrong. They were your family, and they didn’t deserve your silence. Your smile shattered. “I don’t know if Norman told you about his plan yet, but it’s...it’s bad. Sure, the demons have done some terrible things to us, but that doesn’t mean all of them are guilty. I want to stop him, but I don’t know how.”

Emma nodded in agreement. “He told us earlier and I don’t like it either.” she firmly said. “Ray and I talked it over and we have a plan, but it’s risky. Like, really risky. It has to do with the Seven Walls and...”

You held on to every word Emma and Ray spoke. Risky was your middle name. Well, not actually, but it was something that became your friend. You and your family looked death in the face too many times to count. What would be another?

By the end of it, you were sure this new plan would change Norman’s mind, or at least convince him to give up the whole ‘genocide’ thing. It was decided by Ray that tomorrow, you’d all talk to Norman. Things seemed to be looking up. No, they had to be.

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

The halls were empty and you were alone. How was it you got lost in the first place? You made sure to have every twist and turn memorised, so why did you end up in the wrong corridor twice? Ray would surely tease you for getting lost. What an absolute--

You slammed into someone’s chest. A yelp escaped your throat as the person in question lost his footing. He sucked in a sharp breath and went tumbling straight into you. Your back hit the ground as the boy threw out his arms on either side of your head to brace himself. You didn’t need a name to know who you had tumbled into. Light hair, soft eyes, fancy waistcoat and suit.

“Norman?”

He hovered over you with wide eyes. His lips were inches from yours and he was just so, so close.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was so gosh dang loud. Could he hear it? Could he see the way your face burned red?

“Uhm--I--I--uh--”

Why wasn’t he moving? Why weren’t you moving? Why was it so hard to look him in the eyes? A nervous smile broke out across Norman’s lips. He pushed himself off of you and offered out a hand. You gingerly took it.

“Sorry.” Norman said, helping you to your feet. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Your gaze darted from his lips to his dazzling eyes and then to his cheeks dusted in red. Your heart wouldn’t stop slamming against your chest. It kept going, and going until you felt like you were about to burst.

“Sh-shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you retorted. “I’m not the one who--you know...gets sick all the time.” You weren’t sure why you said it like that, or why that made Norman smile so cutely, but he was smiling. That made your heart flutter. You glanced around the corridor a few times, and somehow, you kept finding focus on his lips.

What was wrong with you?

Norman caught on fast--like he always did. “Oh I see,” he said with a low chuckle. You swallowed. His voice really did deepen (but you kind of liked it). For a moment, you thought he caught onto your staring, but instead of commenting on it, he intertwined his hand with yours and led you through the winding halls.

“Don’t tell Ray I got lost.” you muttered. Norman laughed and it was like the sound of happiness itself. “I won’t.”

The halls all looked the exact same: cream coloured paint, nature-like decorations, and numbered wooden doors. You forgot what number your room was, so that was probably why you got lost. Norman took a sharp left where you recalled should be a right instead. “Wait isn’t it that way?”

“I have something to give you, so we’re going to make a quick detour.” Norman’s cheeks dusted pink and he looked the slightest bit nervous. “What is it you want to show me?” He flashed you a contagious smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said with a chuckle, “that’s why it’s called a surprise.”

When you got to his office, you were nervous. Surprises were fun, yes, but in a world where nearly getting eaten by wild demons fell into the category of ‘surprise’, you learned not to like them very much.

Norman closed the door behind you and it softly clicked shut. Okay, you thought. So he was locking the door and making his way over to his desk. Okay, that’s fine. Norman shuffled through a cabinet, that nervous look still on his face. Okay, okay, nothing wrong here. He gently shut the drawer, and as he walked out from behind his desk, you took note of the small little box he fiddled with.

Okay. Okay. Box. Nervous. Locked door. Did he not want anyone to interrupt whatever he was about to do?

Norman heaved in a deep breath. A really, really, really deep breath. “(Y/n), I have never met anyone else like you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and kind.” He sunk to one knee and opened the little box. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

---------

You jolted awake with a start.

“Sorry,” Norman said. He scribbled a few words down in his notebook. “Did I wake you?”

Ah, that’s right. After you talked with Emma and Ray, you all met up with Norman and hung out for a bit. But when had you gotten to his office? Much less, fallen asleep? You rubbed your eyes with a shake of your head. Judging by the tired look on Norman’s face, it was way past bedtime.

The heavy cloak around your shoulders offered a welcoming warmth. It smelled like books. It smelled like parchment and ink. It smelled like Norman and it was comforting.

He glanced up from his notebook and curiously met your gaze. “What are you smiling at?” The dream popped up in your mind and your smile grew. “I had a good dream.”

“What was it about?” he inquired without looking up.

“You.”

The scratch of the pencil froze and he met your gaze. “You had a dream about me?” Your cheeks flushed. “Yeah, and you proposed.” Norman’s back went rigid and he turned as red as an apple. “I-I pro--proposed to you?” he stammered. You snickered, a smug smile tugging on your lips. “It was really sweet. And if you’re wondering, I said yes. I was going to kiss you, but then I woke up.” You stood up with a sigh. “It was disappointing, but that’s okay.”

You let out a small laugh and neatly folded Norman’s cloak. You left it on the couch and made your way across the room. “That’s a nice notebook.” you said. “What’re you writing about?”

Norman stilled and closed the book with a smile. “It’s nothing special.” He put the pencil down ever so quietly and stood. “Do you seek my affections?” he inquired. You settled on the wall. “Don’t you have work to do?” Norman looked down at you. His fringe brushed across his eyelashes, and he loosened his tie. Slowly.

Your heart steadily drummed against your chest. “What are you doing?” The false innocence in your voice caused Norman to chuckle lowly. He caressed your cheek with a feather-light touch. “Well, you did say you were disappointed right? Why don’t I make it up to you?”

He rested an arm on the wall with a sly smirk. Your lips connected and it made your stomach flip-flop. The kiss was slow, it was sweet. You found yourself pulling him closer, running your hands through his hair and yanking him over. "Norman?" He met your gaze with half-lidded eyes. "Yes (N/n)?"

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

He smirked and it was hot. The fact that he kept his arm braced against the wall didn’t help either. "Why?" he lowly inquired. "Do you like it?" Your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself wanting more.

Knock, knock!

Norman didn't look too happy about that. He ran a hand over your cheek and gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, that half-lidded look of his melting into warmth and love. He made his way to the door, tightening his tie and smoothing out his hair with a quick touch.

"Hello--?" Norman fell short mid-sentence. As soon as your gaze locked with the person on the other side, you understood why. Ray stood in the threshold, just as red-faced as you and Norman, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll come back later.” he muttered.

Oh great. Had he been eavesdropping? You glanced at Norman and he glanced at you, then Ray, and back to you. Ray sucked his teeth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t have too much fun.” he said, a smirk twitching onto his lips.

You made your way to the threshold with a groan. “Rayyyy!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” he coolly replied. “Do whatever, I didn’t see anything.”

PART 2 <--- READ PART 2

NOTE: I spent a WHOLE WEEK writing this. Please reblog so I know you guys like it :)

TIP JAR

444 notes · View notes

wh6res · 3 years ago

Text

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.

"bitch," you mutter under your breath.

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him.

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing."

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done.

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement.

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!"

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.

"do you really want to know why?"

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

#hmu if i missed a warning #yandere doyoung #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #tw swearing #tw manipulation #tw violence #tw knife

202 notes · View notes

lovelytarou · 4 years ago

Text

how to make someone smile — todoroki shoto

pairing: todoroki shoto x reader

tags: shoto being no thoughts, head empty for you, cringe jokes agshd

word count: 1.5k

genre: fluff

a/n: i'm sorry for the cringiness 😭 but these puns really did get a chuckle out of me sksks thank you all for joining me on this event this is the last part and i'm off to finish my other fics! ily all <33

shoto noticed that something was off with you the minute you entered the room. you don't have that usual light that you seem to carry with you whenever you go even if you don't notice it. the beaming face he has grown to love pulled down in a frown as your head was ducked low.

he followed your figure with a watchful gaze as you settled on the seat beside him. even then, you didn't greet him like you usually do and only stared straight ahead with a faraway look in your eyes.

“good morning, y/n.” his calm voice spoke, making you turn to him.

he was shocked and slightly pained when you only managed a nod and a meek smile in his direction before focusing back to the front. he paid no mind to it and chalked it up to you not feeling well, or that you might have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

that was until you were both partnered for a presentation together. you didn't even react, just scooting closer to his chair to talk about what you wanted to do for the presentation. all the while, shoto kept his undivided attention to you – eyes watching you like a hawk, every move under scrutiny.

“why are you staring at me like that, sho?” he didn't realize you had paused from explaining the plans and instead was looking back at him. he felt himself get flustered by the fact that you caught him staring at you without meaning to.

“you just seemed...off today.” was his simple reply, watching you for any violent reactions.

“off? i'm totally fine, sho. i always act like this!” you assured, chuckling nervously as you diverted the topic to the task at hand.

“anyways, where do you wanna get this started?” he doesn't wanna inconvenience you so he took the opportunity that will allow him to spend more time with you.

“let's do it in my room instead.” he offered.

“alright, i'll meet you there by 8.” you agreed, and before he could speak any further you had turned on your heel – losing yourself into the sea of people as they all filed away for lunch.

during lunch hour, shoto couldn't keep his mind off you and might be troubling you to keep you in such a gloomy mood. you even refused to eat with him like you usually do, which he suddenly thought that he may have something to do with it, but he can't recall anything he may have done to cause you to be this sad.

“hey, todoroki bro!” comes kaminari's greeting matched with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“kaminari,” he greeted back as they edged closer while waiting in line for food.

“a penny for your thoughts? wait let me guess…it's y/n, isn't it?” kaminari had a mischievous glint in his eyes as he said this and todoroki can only hope for the worst. or maybe best, out of this.

“they seem kinda gloomy today, huh? did you upset them or anything?”

surprised by kaminari's words, shoto shook his head no. he was just thinking about that but he was sure he didn't do anything to do such a thing to you.

“well, it must be something that's why they're like that,” kaminari moved closer to the counter, picking his food and shoto did the same. his attention has been piqued by the blonde and now following close behind.

“kaminari, do you…” he felt silly asking this but he was kinda running out of options here and he wanted to see your beautiful smile or maybe ease the weight off your shoulders for you.

“do you know how to make someone smile?” just hearing the words leave his mouth made him blush as red as his hair.

but nevertheless, kaminari smiled wide. “you asked the right guy!”

and, naturally, if you knew kaminari denki, you'd know that's where things started to go south for shoto.

the blonde had pushed him in your direction before you began training where he found you all by yourself, stretching and doing warmups.

shoto felt uncertain during the whole ordeal, preparing himself for any reaction you'd give him.

“hey, y/n.” he called out, making you pause your warmups as you stared up at him expectantly.

“where do you find giant snails?” he waited for a second, and then two.

“umm...i don't think there are snails around he–”

“–on the ends of giants fingers.” he finished the joke. how did he manage to say that with such a serious expression was beyond you. you could only stare at him in confusion. before you can reply however, everyone was called to start training.

the next time he attempted it was when all of the class was having dinner while you two are sitting by each other. everyone has fallen into a casual chatter, asking about how everyone's day went, their plans for tomorrow and the days after that – the usual.

shoto met kaminari's eyes across the table, the latter giving him a thumbs up. he cleared his throat as he inched closer to you.

“y/n?” shoto asked after tapping your shoulder to get your attention, “can i ask you something?”

dropping your fork, you faced him, expecting something serious and staving off your own feelings for a moment.

“what do you call a cheese that's not yours?”

“let me guess–”

“nacho cheese,” he said it so proudly and clearly that everyone in the table had fallen silent. the only sound you can hear was kaminari's laugh as he doubled over the table, slapping it with his palm. all eyes turned on him.

“wha-? it's funny!” he reasoned but they just shook their heads and rolled their eyes on him.

dinner continued on awkwardly after that.

inside his room, shoto stared up at the ceiling in thought. he doesn't get why you can't appreciate the jokes that kaminari said will make you smile. was he doing it wrong? maybe you don't like jokes?

he remembered today will be the day that you'll come over to his room for the presentation. he immediately got off his bed and started to tidy up his room. not five minutes later and you're already knocking on the door.

“y/n, come in.” he opened the door wider for you to come in, he found himself following your figure with his eyes once again. no matter what clothes, or state you're in, you still look gorgeous in his eyes.

you got comfortable by yourself as shoto sat beside you, getting out his own materials as you started to talk and explain what you wanted to do for the presentation. all the while, shoto listened to you attentively, paying close attention to every word that comes out of your mouth.

oh, how kissable your lips are. do you use lip gloss? or maybe a flavored lip balm?

“sho!” he snapped out of his thoughts when you called his name. he stammered, feeling his whole face and neck heat up from embarrassment.

“sorry, w-what were you saying?” he tried to avoid your eyes and pretended to arrange his things.

“i said, are you cool with my plan?” you think shoto looking all bashful and embarrassed is cute that it even brought a small smile to your face.

he nodded, “yeah, i'm cool with whatever as long as it's with you.”

he didn't even notice the weight of his words as you felt your own face heat up but this time it's because of the feelings it invoked within you. shoto can really be clueless to the effect he has on you.

“wait, you're smiling!” shoto exclaimed in surprise, eyes widening as he stared at your toothy grin longer. deep within him, he felt like an accomplished man.

this is it, this is what happiness feels like. fuck everything else, you're the only thing that matters.

“you're so cute, shoto.” you muttered fondly, before leaning closer to peck his cheeks, silently thanking him for making you happy for several days to come.

general taglist: @chibishae34 @heyheysey @bukojuiice

#im a bit proud of this HAHAHA #it is the puns that i loved #also i love the image of shoto saying the corniest jokes with a straight fsce #face*#tarou writes 🌹#tarou at 200 🎉#💫. todoroki shouto #💫. todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto fluff #shoto fluff #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha shoto

282 notes · View notes

maplecornia · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 4

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.06K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: this one is literally just revolving around one of the BTS members. i don't really have much else to say other than HYUNJIN'S BACK and I'm crying.

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne

Kim Namjoon never imagined he would lose his assistant.

JaeJin was a great worker and a great friend. He loved music and expressed it through his very soul, his every move whenever he danced or helped Namjoon produce a song. Namjoon smiles as his hand hovers over the soundboard.

In the back of his mind, he remembers the days spent here ever since Jaejin was promoted to his assistant. He remembers the first time he met his dear friend, how nervous Jaejin looked, unspoken excitement reverberating off of him in waves.

As Namjoon pushes up the volume on the soundboard, he thinks back to the moments spent as Jae learned how to be his assistant, as Namjoon taught him as much as he could. How what started as respect turned into a mutual friendship, and later, a brotherhood.

Though Namjoon is sad to see JaeJin go, he is happy to see his dream accomplished. He will miss Jae's smile, his laugh, and his good heart, but he knows that just because Jaejin is taking a different path doesn't mean they will cease to be friends.

As soon as Joon finishes a part of his song, he sighs, pulling away from the board and whipping out his phone.

He doesn’t know why he started thinking about him all of a sudden, he was one of the first people to know that Jae was leaving. Besides, he would see him soon, it’s not like Jaejin leaving for a couple of months means that he won’t ever see him again.

Standing, RM walks out of the room, leaving Suga to continue by himself.

He's lucky that Yoongi has his headphones on. If he caught Namjoon slacking he wouldn't get off easy. Carefully, RM exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him as he leans against the wall next to the door to the studio. Turning his phone on, he checks the time, his heart thumping slightly.

8:30 am.

Perhaps the reason his mind is so full of nostalgic memories is that he’s been waiting since last night to meet his new manager.

Jaejin said that his replacement should show up around this time, but he hasn't given much information other than that. Namjoon pockets his phone and heads down the hallway towards the front lobby.

Staff members pass by him, some working for TxT, others for the new girl group they put together about 3 years ago, and even more for the new boy group that BigHit began putting together in 2020.

Namjoon finds their presence surreal.

The members of BTS's staff have been around ever since their debut, and even more, have joined the crew over the years. These staff members will no doubt do the same for their groups, maybe stick around till the very end.

If anyone asked Namjoon's opinion, he would say it was the staff that had to do the real work. And all from behind the scenes. They are the ones who help them put on a great show. They are the ones who tutor them, provide for them, allow them to create their vision, their masterpiece. They are the stitches behind the fabric.

To Namjoon, BTS is just the face. The whole idea of them, of their message, was created through everyone's effort. Including ARMY, including their staff, including BTS themselves.

Losing one of their members would be like trying to fill a hole that cannot be filled.

Perhaps that's why Namjoon is so worried about Jaejin's replacement.

No one can truly replace him.

Namjoon never wanted a new manager.

There was a reason he chose Jaejin out of all the others, a reason he turned a backup dancer into his manager. He needs someone with the same passion, the same grit, the same determination that he has. Jaejin had that, and more. He was able to keep up with Namjoon’s crazy schedule, his unhealthy habits, his tendency to overwork himself.

Normally it was Suga trying to keep up with him, trying to help him, trying to do the best for him, but when he met Jaejin, he found exactly what he needed in a manager.

Will his replacement be able to do the same?

Entering the lobby, he knocks on the counter, where a receptionist is taking a call. She looks up at his knock and he smiles at her, receiving the usual smile back and a slight blush on her cheeks.

After a moment of their little staring contest, Namjoon grows impatient. He indicates silently that he’s waiting to speak with her and her eyes widen in realization. She nods sheepishly at his signal, holding up one finger to signify to him that she'll talk to him in a second. He complies, settling in as she continues her call, faintly aware of Kim Namjoon behind her.

Namjoon is never sure how to feel about these types of things.

People recognizing him in the street, others noticing him even with a disguise, he doesn't know what to do with the attention.

Why didn't people pay attention to him before? When he didn't have all the makeup, the money, and the influence? Are they looking at him because they appreciate who he is as a person?

Or because he is Kim Namjoon?

RM of BTS.

Putting the thought out of his mind, he turns his back to the receptionist, unlocking his phone, and opening the chat with Jaejin. He doesn't see any sign of his replacement, but then again, how would Namjoon know what she looks like?

Hey

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh hi, what’s up hyung?

When was your replacement supposed to be here again?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- ummmmm, 8:00 am or so, why?

RM pulls away from his phone, looking around for any sign of a girl who looks lost or out of place in the lobby. Every time Jaejin talked about this so-called friend, he referred to them as a “she” so the only thing Namjoon knows about this new manager is the fact that she’s female.

Sadly, as he desperately scours the lobby, there's no sign of anyone there that fits the description. The one girl who was waiting in the waiting area has just been called aside and led to a meeting room. Namjoon, a little worried, bites his lip before a buzz in his hands causes him to glance at his phone.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- Namjoon?

Yeah?

I’m sorry it’s just….she’s not here yet

YOUNG APPRENTICE- WHAT

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully at Jae's reaction before walking out of the lobby. If she's not here, there's no need to hang around, and it doesn't seem as though the receptionist is paying much attention anyway.

As he leaves, the receptionist stares after him almost hopelessly, Namjoon oblivious to the longing gaze.

He glances at his phone once more maneuvering his way through the hallways of the building.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- are you sure?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I'm gonna murder her

Well I can’t know for sure

Could I have a picture or maybe a name?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I never gave you one?

Not to my knowledge

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh I am so sorry hyung! Her name is Lin Yen and just give me a minute and I'll find you a picture

"Lin...Yen...." Namjoon murmurs, pondering it in his mind.

"Just who exactly are you?" he whispers, putting the phone down once more as he comes to a stop in a corner of the hallway.

Yen...he repeats in his mind, playing around with it, trying to see how it sounds on his tongue, how it feels circling in his thoughts, how it plays on his voice.

It's a beautiful name, one he hasn't heard often, and for some reason, he feels as though it's foreign. Another vibration from his phone jolts him out of his pondering thoughts, and he looks down at the screen, immediately bursting out laughing.

Jaejin has sent the picture of you, but it's not just any picture.

It's a picture of you eating salad.

But that's not what makes it so funny.

You and Jaejin are at a Korean BBQ in the picture, and you hold the signature salad bowl up to your face, your chopsticks hooked around an enormous bite. You're shoving the bite into your mouth, your cheeks puffed up like chipmunks, your eyes wide and nose pinched.

Your expression, your face, the fact that you're attempting to shove a huge bite into your mouth, everything about the picture is hilarious, and Namjoon can't stop looking at it.

He can't stop looking at you.

Now he is sure that you are a foreigner, with that complexion and your facial features. You aren't necessarily tall, but not super short either. Then again, Namjoon doesn't think that Park Jimin is short, so what does he know?

One thing is for sure, though…

You are beautiful.

And it’s not only the physical things that make you beautiful, though they are a contributing factor.

It’s the personality.

The charisma that exuberates off of you, managing to touch him most charmingly through a mere photo. The way you smile, how it lights up your eyes. The blush of your cheeks, and even the color of your hair. Everything about you has captured his attention, and he can't look away.

His smile doesn't want to fade, so he covers his face with his hand, leaning against the wall. No doubt he looks like an idiot, but he doesn't care.

You have that gift.

The natural gift of familiarity when you are less than strangers.

And it has surprised him. The cool, calm, professional, wise Namjoon wouldn't have thought that such a thing could reach his heart...and yet he can't stop smiling.

"Namjoon."

Startled, the smile fading just as quickly as it began, Namjoon jumps, his phone slipping out of his grip. Frantic, and a bit embarrassed, he fumbles to catch it before it falls, but to no avail.

He watches in hopeless despair as the phone hits the ground with a sickening thud, the screen immediately cracking at the impact of the harsh tiled floor.

Namjoon lets out a groan, while a slender, pale hand reaches out and picks it up. Wincing, he glances to his side.

Where Min Yoongi holds his phone in between his fingers as though it were a dirty piece of trash; looking unamused. Glaring at him with a stare as cold as ice, he drops it into RM’s hands before folding his arms across his chest. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his luck, sighing inwardly.

He doesn't look too happy.

"Hey, Yoongi, I--"

"Yes, please explain, Kim Namjoon." Yoongi drawls, his voice monotone and sending shivers down Namjoon’s spine. Almost shamefully, Namjoon turns off his phone and slides it back into his pocket, avoiding that icy stare.

"You're supposed to be helping, yet you left for what? To laugh at memes? Now is not the time to be fooling around with Jackson for heaven's sakes!” Though Yoongi doesn’t raise his voice, the severity of his tone is enough to make it seem as though he has and Namjoon has to restrain himself from visibly flinching away from him. After a moment of silence, Suga sighs, rubbing his temple with frustration. “Why are you so distracted today?"

Joon has been asking himself the same question.

"For one thing, they weren't memes and I wasn’t talking to Jackson. It was a picture of Jaejin's replacement. I was trying to see if she's arrived yet." He explains, a bit indignantly, before walking away towards the studio once more, hoping to escape the conversation.

He should have remembered that nothing escapes Yoongi.

"And did she?" Suga follows Namjoon, managing to walk fast enough to catch up with him and yet still look nonchalant and unbothered. RM sighs at the question, speeding up his pace, as he notices the studio door in the distance.

Jumping at the opportunity, Namjoon makes a break for the door, Yoongi calling after him in surprise. He reaches it, leaving Suga behind in the dust. Opening the door he sinks into a chair as though it were a refuge from the uncomfortable situation he found himself in. As Yoongi comes to a stop in front of the door, Namjoon acts as though he were there the entire time.

"Do you need something?" he asks innocently, and Yoongi rolls his eyes, walking in and closing the door behind him before settling into a chair of his own.

"Yes. I need you to focus on this project. This is important, and is nowhere near done if it's going to be our next title track." He murmurs, immediately setting to work, his mouse echoing in the silence. Biting his bottom lip in guilt, RM turns back to his phone, frowning a bit at the sight of the cracked screen.

Yoongi is right, Namjoon knows this.

They dedicated this day to work on BTS’s new title song.

Namjoon especially wanted Yoongi to produce it because of his incredible skill and work ethic. He practically begged him to take time off from his other projects to work on this with him, Yoongi is sacrificing a lot of his time just to be here.

Namjoon knows how important time can be.

It doesn’t help matters considering how this song is so essential to their comeback album. Promotion is still far off, but it doesn't change the circumstances. ARMY waited for them for so long to come back to them, it’s only fair that they give them the most groundbreaking album they can.

But RM can't focus.

And it’s for such a stupid reason.

Just because Jaejin is gone doesn't mean the world will fall apart.

He knows this, it's just...

Namjoon smiles a bit bitterly, turning back to the booth as he resumes his work once more.

"She wasn't there." Suga turns to Namjoon at the sound of his voice. Namjoon notices but doesn't pay any mind, continuing to play with the soundboard, creating his type of spell, his sort of magic. "In response to your question."

Yoongi doesn't respond, waiting for Namjoon to finish. That's the way he is, sometimes RM can’t finish a thought in one sentence and it takes him a moment to piece things together, what with everything else running through that expansive mind of his. Suga knows when to wait, when to stay silent, and allow RM a chance to tell him everything he needs to.

He's no stranger to listening to people, especially when it comes to Namjoon.

Sometimes, Joon just needs to let something out without anyone saying anything, and Yoongi won't say anything unless he feels it's necessary. He’ll listen, and be there for anyone to lean on, able to offer them the emotional support they need to carry on.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm a little nervous to meet her." After a moment, Yoongi responds to him, his soft voice carrying across the room in a comforting murmur.

"What's the big deal? If she's professional, she'll be perfect. I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about." He reassures him. RM nods, trying to concentrate once more, and put the thought of your arrival to the back of his mind.

Maybe Yoongi is right, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

However, Namjoon can't help but think that your arrival will change their lives.

And who knows if it'll be for the better?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: how are you guys liking Jaejin now? lol

chapter 5 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

86 notes · View notes