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joequiinn · 3 months ago

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When the Wolfsbane Blooms | part ii | e.m. x reader au

Summary | September 1916. Edward Munson is back in Hawkins after 13 years, returning to live with his uncle who serves as groundskeeper to the Talbot Estate. Upon his return it’s as if nothing has changed... except the Talbot daughter, who wasn’t nearly so striking back when they were children. But a strange danger seems to coincide with Eddie’s arrival, and all it takes is one fateful night to expose him to exactly what this danger is…

Warnings & Notes | 18+, angsty horror romance, fem reader, depictions of violence and death, smut and nsfw themes, reader last name for plot purposes, use of some 3rd person narrative, historical inaccuracies

Author's Note | Thank you to everyone who has shown love for the fic thus far, this has been such a beast to work on, but I love every minute of it! I'm a little biased towards this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do 👀

WC | 12.5k

!! MINORS DNI !!

“... through no fault of your own…”

As planned, you ventured to the gardens post-supper, a book in hand to keep yourself preoccupied should Eddie be delayed. Your father seemed none the wiser to your plans, far as you could tell, unaware of your lilac dress in need of a cleaning, unaware of your evening rendezvous to come. As had become habit as you grew older, he visited the library for brandy and a cigar following your evening meal, and you went off to read either by the fire or on a bench amongst the rose bushes.

It was a comfortable existence, the one shared between the two of you, albeit also a lonely one. Your father was certainly capable of affection, but he was never good at showing it; for a man with a whirlwind of emotions constantly present in his eyes, he had the irritating habit of keeping them all to himself. He showed love and care from a distance, and you couldn’t begrudge him for that, although in your younger years it often left you wondering if perhaps there was something wrong with you.

For your entire life, it was always just the two of you and the half-dozen staff of the house - you never knew your mother, and your father was entirely disinterested in the prospect of ever taking another wife. In fact, it seemed as if sometimes he was fearful of the idea, as if there was some unseen danger in taking a new bride. He often seemed too preoccupied for such trivial things as romance, although what could possibly keep his mind so busy, you didn’t know even to this day; managing the estate and businesses was certainly a demanding task, but he’d always had staff and advisors to assist with such things. You figured that it was his emotions that wouldn’t allow him to commit his time to anything else, even something so simple as spending an evening by the fire with his daughter.

What he did make time for, frustratingly enough, was your recent engagement, made purely out of arrangement given your family’s position in society. You’d always known a convenient marriage was expected of you, despite the changing of society, but you’d also always hoped foolishly that you could put it off until you found a suitor on your own. But considering that you were already 24 years of age, the clock of expectation was ticking, and so your father had set up an engagement with a local family of similarly high standings.

The man was fine enough, from a decent family that wasn’t so stuffy that it made you want to rip your hair out. But he was terribly boring, completely and utterly incompatible with your wild ideas and your lust for life. It was evident that he didn’t quite see women as people - they were mothers or wives or daughters, they weren’t meant to have ambitions and aspirations. And as infuriating as that perspective was to you, you nonetheless thought you could at least tolerate such a man once you became his wife - after all, better he be boring than cruel, for boring could be ignored.

But with Edward Munson showing up after all these years away, suddenly you weren’t so confident in your tolerance for boring people.

You knew better than to become swept up in your childhood fantasies, you were logically aware of how silly you were to become excited at the mere prospect of Eddie as a concept. But you just couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t resist the ache you felt for your long-lost friend. Up until today, you admittedly hadn’t thought about him in a number of years; it’s not that he was ever truly forgotten, but you had accepted long ago that you two weren’t going to see each other ever again, and you had to become okay with that idea.

So, to have Eddie turn up entirely unannounced after all this time was a shock to your system, like the sensation of jumping into a freezing lake on a hot day; you were suddenly submerged in the thought of him, having dived in head first like a fearless child.

Now that you had Eddie back, you missed him so deeply, mourned the possibilities of what life would have been like had he stayed in Hawkins with you. And yes, you certainly knew that you were getting caught up in your excitement of finally having him home, but you also weren’t going to deny yourself the joys of his company. After all, it wouldn’t be long now until you were someone else’s wife - you may as well delight in your freedoms while you still have them, especially if those delights were in Eddie’s hands.

And so, you eagerly awaited his company, the sun low enough now that you could no longer read your book from where you sat. You could have moved closer to the house where light shined out through the windows, but you hadn’t been particularly interested in the novel to begin with; all while you’d been staring at the pages, your mind had been elsewhere.

So, you set the book aside and looked about, growing nervous as you anticipated Eddie’s arrival; you suspected that he was waiting until the sun had disappeared entirely beyond the horizon, nervous of being caught alone with you now that you both were all grown up. Since childhood, he’d feared the wrath of your father, especially after the day you two were found in the abandoned chapel - that was a terrifying and altering experience for you as well, so you certainly couldn’t blame Eddie for his reservations.

After that day, your father had never looked upon the boy in quite the same way, had never trusted you with him like he used to. He’d still let the two of you play together, but you weren’t to go beyond his sight, forced to keep to the gardens or the front lawn so that someone may always keep a watchful eye. And then only a short few years after that, Eddie was gone, and although he never said as much, you knew your father was relieved for it.

Something that had stirred your childish fears at the time was how that day at the chapel seemed to coincide with a spike of animal attacks in the area; you began to associate the two events in your mind, foolish as that may have been. The howling of a wolf at night would enter your dreams and turn them to nightmares, where you were trapped in the confines of the chapel and cornered by a monster. For weeks, this wolf seemed on rampage, attacking livestock and even going so far as to harm a few town citizens. But somehow, the animal was never caught.

Eventually, the danger faded away, eventually the attacks stopped and the cries of the animal no longer haunted you. But to your eight year old brain, it seemed the wolf was angered by your trespassing in the chapel, it seemed that you and Eddie had provoked it into such extreme violence; since then, you’d always secretly harbored a fear of wolves.

So, much like your irrational, childish fear of wolves, your father’s anxieties seemed utterly illogical to you. They’d led to disagreements and fights throughout the years, and to this day you never quite understand why he held such resentment towards your childhood friend.

Footsteps upon the stone path caught your attention and drew you out of your reverie; eagerly you jumped to your feet, heart fluttering in your chest with impatience. Although it was perhaps dumb, you ducked into the shadow of the nearest tree, your giddiness prompting you to behave so childishly, as if to make up for the times you two had lost. You listened and waited, hearing the careful steps come closer and closer until they were finally upon you.

Eddie hadn’t spotted you, pausing to pick up your book from the nearby bench, looking left and right in search of you; you held in a laugh as he continued forward, straining his neck as if that may help him find you faster. You ever so carefully tiptoed up behind him, mindful of the way your shoes would click against the path; you had one hand cupped over your mouth to maintain your silence, and once Eddie was finally within reach, you lashed out, quickly pressing your fingers into his sides to startle him.

“Eddie!” You whisper-shouted at the same moment, causing him to jump and exclaim with a harsh hiss, dropping the book he’d just picked up. He whipped around quickly to give you a reprimanding look as you laughed, pressing both hands to your mouth so that you wouldn’t be too loud. The startled furrow of Eddie’s brows made your laughter more raucous, and you doubled over, finding the whole thing far more amusing than it actually was.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile with an annoyed twist to his mouth, setting one hand atop your shoulder as he pressed an insistent finger to his lips, “Shh, I don’t want to be caught.”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you began to calm yourself, although giggles still escaped you as you feigned an innocent look. You gave his chest a comforting pat, your wide grin nearly comical.

“We won’t be caught.” You said with the utmost confidence, holding his eyes to make it clear just how certain of that you were. Eddie shook his head at your antics, but didn’t argue, his eyes sparkling with happiness in the moonlight. He picked up the fallen book, dusting it off carefully before holding it out towards you.

“Yours, I presume?” You smiled graciously, taking the book back and holding it close to your chest. For a long beat, the two of you simply drank each other in, silently admiring one another as if you were both works of art. Eddie cleared his throat, while looking down at his feet, meeting your eyes with a little more care, “Shall we?”

You nodded with a sweet smile, the expression only growing more dazzling when Eddie offered his arm for you; hooking your hand in the crook of his elbow, you gave him a surprised look, “When did you learn to behave like a gentleman?”

Eddie laughed with a dip of his head, the two of you aimlessly walking down the garden path, “Sometime between when I last saw you and now.”

You rolled your eyes at the answer, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. With no smart response, you suddenly found yourself growing nervous, although you weren’t sure why; perhaps you feared having nothing to say? Maybe you worried the silence meant this little fantasy would fall apart already? You bit your lip while glancing up at Eddie’s handsome face, wondering if similar fears weighed heavy on his brain.

“Did you miss me?” You blurted out, drawing his attention back.

“Well, you’re not very polite, are you?” Eddie teased with a snarky grin, which made your ears feel warm. You two were heading in the direction of the hedge maze, as if you both knew that’s where the other wanted to go. Sighing deeply, Eddie looked away from you, “Of course I did, especially that first year. There weren’t many friends to be had when every week we were in a new town… I thought about you often.”

He peeked at you bashfully, your warm smile making him nervous, “And after that first year?”

“I had to let you go.” Eddie shook his head as if the thought of it still upset him, still filled him with regret, “Couldn’t spend every day and night worrying over the girl I left behind.”

The sad way he said it made you smile with longing, recalling the wretched few months following his departure and how difficult that time was for you, “I missed you as well; for a while, life was so dreadful without your company.”

Approaching the maze, you considered all the things that had happened the past thirteen years, wondering how you could possibly catch Eddie up on all the things you wanted to share. You wanted to tell him about the time you dipped your toes into the pond only for a leech to grab hold of you; the time you’d meandered into the garden feeling so lonely that his uncle put a trowel in your hand and taught you how to properly dig up dead plants. Or perhaps of your studies of botany, a passion that always kept you company on quiet days.

A depleting thought crossed your mind then, and you stole a glance up at Eddie’s face in consideration - before things went on any further, before you hurt him or led him on, it was only right to mention your annoying little engagement. Feeling the burn of your eyes, Eddie paused and looked at you curiously, knowing your expressions so well that he knew something was irritating you quite suddenly.

“What, don’t tell me my company already bores you.” He teased with that playful grin, to which you couldn’t help but smile back at.

No, you didn’t want to ruin the moment when it had only just begun. So, you shook your head and gave his arm a light tug, continuing the walk into the hedge maze, “No, you could never bore me, Eddie.”

The two of you entered the cozy maze that you’d memorized together so many years ago; you had spent hours trying to find markers and hints as to which direction to go, running back and forth from the start to the end until the both of you could confidently make it through without any help from the other. You wondered if Eddie could still remember his way through the hedges just as well as you.

He guided you around the first familiar turn, and you smiled to yourself - he could remember that much, at least, even if it was muscle memory. As if he knew what you were thinking, Eddie paused and shot you a mischievous look.

“Did you think I forgot?” He leaned in towards you with a challenging gleam in his eyes; you nodded smally, “We spent countless days playing here together - my mind wouldn’t let me forget this maze even if I wanted to. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dreamt of it.”

Rising to the bait, you puffed up your chest a little, removing your hand from his arm, “Oh really? Well, in that case, shall we see who can complete it faster?”

Eddie laughed, his eyes spirited and daring, happy to engage in play, “And what is there to win for the one of us that proves victorious?”

Your heart skipped as if the question were provocative; you took a step closer to Eddie, nearly chest to chest as you gazed up through your lashes, whispering with an airy suggestiveness, “Perhaps that’s for the winner to decide.”

“You speak with such confidence - I hope it isn’t going to your head.”

“And you speak with such determination - I’d hate to see you lose.”

The air was tense as you smiled at one another like scheming children, Eddie eventually took a step back while crossing his arms, tongue wetting his lower lip. You rose your chin defiantly, brow arching as you awaited his response. Eddie narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, Miss Talbot.” He uncrossed his arms to reach into his coat and extract a pocket watch, “Let’s see if you’re up for the challenge. I’ll wait for you at the end of the maze and see just how quickly you can manage it.”

You looked between him and the simple silver watch, “And how will you know when to start the time?”

“Do you remember your bird calls?” The both of you nearly laughed at the question.

“I’m rusty, but I can manage. How do you know I won’t cheat the call, send out my whistle when I’m already halfway through?”

Eddie leaned down with a false threat, eyes piercing into yours as he whispered in a risque tone, “I’m trusting you.”

His voice made you shiver with excitement, but you tried to hide it, just as you tried to hide the way you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself, “Foolish.”

“No one’s accused me of being a fool before.” He pretended that he was offended, taking a flamboyant step away from you. You grinned like a cheshire cat, delighting in your banter.

“Then I’m pleased to be the first.” You teased, causing Eddie to narrow his eyes once more.

“Have you grown more troublesome since I left?”

“Oh, yes, I assure you that I have. Now, let’s start the race, Mr. Munson.” You two shared a playful look of disagreement before Eddie began to jog around the hedge maze, following its exterior walls towards the other side.

You waited impatiently until you heard the chickadee call that the two of you used to practice as kids, the sound making you laugh to yourself. Licking your lips while recalling how to properly make the familiar sound, you called back and began a mad dash through the hedge maze, scooping your skirts up into your hands so as not to trip in your hurry. You took the turns tightly, nearly stumbling over your shoes and loose rocks; the dark of the night made the depths of the maze harder to decipher, but your muscle memory kept you in line, determined to win this childish little race you were now in the midst of.

When you’d finally reached the end, you very nearly crashed into Eddie, who managed to catch you as you both stumbled a few feet. You breathed deeply while trying to catch your breath, your wild eyes meeting Eddie’s as you steadied yourself with your hands upon his chest. Eddie smiling widely back down at you.

“I forgot to check the time.” Your face dropped, balking at Eddie in disbelief. But only moments later, he broke out into impish laughter, giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze as you heaved a sigh of relief and slapped his chest.

“Not funny!” You scolded, although all conviction was lost considering that you were laughing along with him.

“Relax, will you?” Eddie held up the pocket watch, announcing your time to you as he placed it in your hand. With a charming grin, Eddie began the walk back around the maze, leaving you to wait for his bird call once more; you kept the clock face turned up to the sky so that the moon kept it illuminated.

Once the chickadee call met your ears, you kept your eyes trained on the watch, giddy to see if Eddie may possibly beat your time. The seconds seemed to move oh-so slowly since he wasn’t within your sight, and for a long while not even the sound of his footfall met your ears. But then you could hear the scuffing of shoes against stone and you began to grow nervous, worried that he would win this race with no real stakes.

Your time came and went, and a victorious grin spread across your face; moments later, Eddie came bursting out of the maze, stumbling much like you had as he skidded to a halt. You moved to him quickly, the self-satisfied look on your face causing him to narrow his eyes as he steady himself with hands upon knees.

“Don’t tell me you won.” He teased, your grin growing even wider as you took a dramatic, victorious bow, waving your hand graciously towards an invisible audience.

“Disappointment does not become you.” You taunted, to which Eddie rolled his eyes. He took back his pocket watch as if your hand burnt his, melodramatically acting up his dismay with groans and huffs, all the while you giggled at his silly display.

“Well, champion,” He leaned back into your space again, eyes alight with roguery, a wolfish grin on his lips, “what do you demand for your winnings?”

A wicked thought came to you, feeling your cheeks warm and your heart drum frantically, even as you tried to keep a cocky look upon your face. Eddie’s playful eyes were beginning to make you nervous, but you hoped your expression appeared just as spirited as his own, biting your lip to mask your nerves. You tapped your finger to your chin contemplatively, humming as if in deep consideration as you looked about the expanse of the lawns and gardens, anything to keep your eyes turned away from the dark of his gaze.

“I’m undecided.” You stated instead of your true answer, not quite courageous enough to share it. Abruptly, you began to jog down the hill’s slope which led to the lower lawns, full of that same nervous and excitable energy you always had as a child when Eddie was around. It felt a little foolish to act as if you were back to being little ones again, but you simply couldn’t help yourself, needing to let out all the giddy sensations that Eddie had stirred back up in you.

Eddie followed behind you with a call to slow down, catching up quickly and grabbing your arm; he spun you around to face him, his eccentric smile a perfect match for yours.

“We shouldn’t wander so far in the dark.” He insisted as he still held to your arm, looking back up in the direction of the mansion; from here, the hill obscured much of it from view, leaving only the upper floor visible to you.

“The dark holds no dangers to me.” You responded with a rascally tone, as if somehow you were untouchable. To reassure him, you added, “We will not go far.”

You took Eddie’s hand in your own as you continued your aimless trek - the lower lawns were home to less impressive gardens than those directly off the Talbot home, but as the explorer you were, they were always a delight to you. These were not gardens of flowers and exotic plants, but of fruits and vegetables, an orchard of trees with lovely offerings. Your personal favorites were the cherry trees, though they were not in season and, thus, they looked dull; but the apples, however, were truly thriving, growing so large and vibrant and aplenty, so you dragged your companion in that direction.

“Will you be helping with the gardens?” You asked, reaching out your free hand to graze the texture of leaves and apples and bark; the trees here had been growing so long that their branches were like a canopy above you.

“I will be doing anything asked of me - I’m lucky your father has even allowed me to return, given how much animosity he still seems to harbor for me.”

You furrowed your brows with disappointment; neither you nor your father brought Eddie up during supper, and so you had no idea what thoughts he now had about the young man, “You think he still harbors animosity?”

Eddie gave you a serious look, a sadness evident in his eyes even though you two wandered in near darkness; you were thankful for the moon, nearly full, for illuminating your way, “You weren’t there for the… odd conversations we had today; it seems he will never be trusting of me, nor will he ever come to like me.”

“Well, I like you, and that’s something he’ll simply have to live with.” Your tone was stubborn and defiantly and bratty, as if your own feelings could possibly sway those of your father; Eddie gave you a grateful look.

“Just don’t land me in trouble.” He said softly, knowing that even this simple act of walking together was something your father would frown upon, that it could be considered taboo for a woman of your status to be seen alone with a man like him.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, leaning in to him a little to rest your head atop his shoulder with an easy smile across your lips, “Fear not, I won’t cause any more trouble than I usually do.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at that, squeezing your hand back, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, “You are quite capable of stirring up trouble, dove, that answer is not particularly reassuring.”

“I suppose not.” You said with a giggle, delighting in the impromptu term of endearment - Eddie had certainly never called you ‘dove’ before in your youth, but oh, how you hoped he’d continue to say now.

You recalled all the crazy things the two of you had done as children, the headaches you had caused; Eddie had been a troublemaker as well, of course, having dragged you along on many risky adventures that you’d been scolded for later. But now, he seemed far more aware of his station, far more aware of the consequences that awaited adults who broke the rules that children could get away with.

Yes - you reminded yourself once more - you were both grown up now, and could not get away with play and stories the way that you used to. You could no longer be seen together without raising eyebrows, you could no longer laugh and run and joke without propriety being questioned. It was a dismal realization to know that any and all interactions with Eddie would now be scrutinized, by both peers and staff and your father alike. The thought made you sigh with woe, eyes drooping as you considered all the things the two of you could no longer do lest you face the judgments of those around you.

Decidedly, you stopped and turned to face Eddie, who gazed down at you with curiosity. You confidently met his gaze, even as your heart drummed nervously, setting your face into a look of strong resolve; knowing that things were different now, you had to enjoy every single moment together that you could, “The winner has decided the prize she’d like to claim.”

Eddie’s brow rose, a tickled smile befalling his lips at your unexpected announcement, “Has she?”

You nodded, feeling yourself growing cold with anxiety even as your cheeks warmed with bashfulness. Taking a steady breath, you gently placed your hands on the front of his shoulders, watching his eyes glance down before meeting yours with some trepidation; you paused there for a moment to bolster yourself, unwilling to back down, a nervy smile gracing your lips as your eyes softened.

“I want you to kiss me, Edward Munson.”

You felt his gasp rather than hear it, felt the way his shoulders tensed at the softly spoken request; his expression became skittish, his eyes jumpy as they looked about your face for a lie. You held your ground, not shrinking under his gaze or backing down, even as your resolve began to feel shaky, nerves growing in rapid succession.

Your name was a sweet whisper falling off his lips, the sound making you shiver as the moment weighed on you. You stared at him with longing, fearful that he’d reject you, that he’d succumb to the pressures of a society that wouldn’t want you two to be together. But to your surprise, Eddie delicately cupped your cheeks, even as his eyes seemed apologetic and doubtful, looking between yours as if waiting for you to stop him before you did something neither of you could take back.

“I shouldn’t…” He spoke oh-so softly; you shook your head gently in defiance.

“I don’t care.” Your answer was equally small, as if even you feared being caught, “I may not be able to have you amongst society, but when we’re alone, you’ve always been mine.”

Eddie’s eyes dropped to your lips, staring with such longing that you practically melted right then and then. As if he could tell the thoughts running through your mind, the corner of his mouth turned up in that charming grin of his, a huff of a laugh escaping him. And that seemed to be all the catalyst he needed, because in the next breath Eddie dipped his head down to capture your lips carefully with his.

His kiss was so tender and chaste, his fingertips curving a little tighter against your jaw. As a sigh left you, all your nerves seemed to melt away with it, your body relaxing against Eddie’s as your hands trailed up to clasp at the back of his neck. Your lips were timid, as if still held back by the disbelief that Eddie was back after all this time, disbelief that he was here with you and you got to kiss him exactly as you wanted to on the day he left.

Eddie pressed closer to you, deepening the kiss as his hands trailing down your neck, your arms, to your waist; the feel of his gentle touch caused your whole body to spark and shiver, your fingers curling into the hair at the base of his skull as an unladylike sound of satisfaction hummed in your throat. You could feel the curve of his smile against your lips, the way his hands squeezed your waist as if spurred on by your moan, and it only made you want him more.

Assertively and a little clumsily, you pushed against Eddie, practically tripping over your feet as you urged him to back up into the nearest tree truck, the bark scratchy against his shoulder blades though he was far too preoccupied to notice.

Your lips were demanding against his, body flush to him as your confidence mounted, Eddie’s arms warm as they encircled you as if fearful of letting go. Your hands became feverish, tugging at his hair, gripping at his neck, holding tight to his shoulders; you wanted to be everywhere at once, to somehow make up for all the time lost in the span of a single kiss.

Eddie’s tongue was wet against your lower lip, a pleasureful gasp escaping you as you opened your mouth to him, grateful for his arms around you as you began to feel weak in the knees. A primal sound rumbled deep in his chest, a growl that made you tingle all over, that made your hands tighten against him. With his arms holding you tight, Eddie leaned into you in a way that forced your back to arch, practically dipping you in his eagerness. Your chest felt as if it were going to burst open, your heart drumming out an excited tattoo, your limbs tingling with electricity.

But then suddenly a howl cried out from the distance, loud enough and frightening enough to make you gasp while abruptly breaking the kiss with Eddie. You whipped your head out towards the wilderness, Eddie’s nose pressed to your cheek as he attempted to catch his breath. The cry of the animal rang out again, sounding closer and more provoked; your eyes widened as you gazed out towards the north, which seemed to be the direction of the danger.

“It’s alright…” Eddie whispered airily, his breath hot against your skin. His hand reached up to gently cup your cheek again, turning your startled gaze back to him; his eyes were dark and lustful as they stared deeply into yours.

“No…” Your voice was also light with breathlessness, chest rising and falling against his, “That was a wolf.”

Eddie made a face as if confused by your concern; you were reminded in that moment that he’d been away for such a long time.

“I was told there were no more wolves around here.” You started, straightening up although you kept yourself securely pressed against Eddie’s warm body. You spoke a mere inch away from his lips, each word a hot breath against his skin, “They’d been hunted to extinction, supposedly; at least that’s what father told me.”

Eddie smiled, his lips brushing against yours, “And you always listen to what your father says?”

You rolled your eyes, still wondering if you’d hear the wolf’s call again; despite the nervous beating of your heart, you ever so delicately kissed Eddie again, “You know I don’t… but we haven’t seen wolves in years… it seemed they disappeared after you left.”

Eddie’s slight laugh vibrated against your chest, the feel of it helping to settle your nerves, “So, it was I who drew them away from Hawkins?”

You grinned fondly at him, slowly beginning to feel at ease as you pressed your fingers tenderly against his skin, “Now that sounds just like one of your stories.”

“Perhaps it is true,” Eddie started with an eager tone, pulling back from you so that he could grab your hand and begin to drag you through the rows of orchard trees, as if he had a destination in mind that you weren’t privy to. You giggled smally while trying not to trip over your feet, “Perhaps they’ve been on the hunt all this time, and I’m the thing they seek. They followed me across the country, stalking closely, but I’m no easy prey to catch, and I always evaded their grasp.”

Coming to the edge of the orchard, Eddie melodramatically threw his free arm in the air, as if presenting the expanse of the dark woods and the beautiful, bright moon to you, “And so they continue to follow, all the way back home - but the wolves will never catch me!”

The last statement was shouted out into the wilderness as if Eddie were daring the creatures to come to him, and as you joyously laughed, you once again saw the boy who explored nature with you, the boy so fond of telling stories to his adoring audience of one.

But then a wolf’s howl sounded back, and the perfect timing froze you, a chill creeping up your spine as your wide eyes looked between Eddie and the vast woodland nearby. Even Eddie - so fearless just moments ago - looked spooked as he stared into the darkness of the trees, gaze unblinking as if a predator may present itself any moment now. His grasp on your hand squeezed tight as he protectively pulled you closer into his side, a shaky breath escaping him as he waited for the creature to call out again.

“We should go back.” You leaned into his neck so he could hear your whisper, feeling the way he slowly nodded in response. That last cry had been even closer than before, and it made you both edgy. The likelihood of a wolf attack was slim, and for all you knew the sound of its howls were simply echoing to seem near, but neither of you was stupid enough to risk it.

So, you both cautiously backed up a few feet before Eddie spun you around, quickly escorting you back through the orchard, up the sloping hill, into the garden that lined the entire backside of Talbot Manor. You didn’t stop until you were safely at the edge of the hedge maze, and then further still Eddie dragged you into the cozy confines of its tall bushes. After twisted a few paces into the maze, Eddie finally stopped, looking down at you as if you were a porcelain doll he feared breaking.

In an effort to reassure you both that all was well, Eddie cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing lightly along the apples of your cheeks; you stared at each other for a long minute, relaxing now that you were seemingly away from danger. The shine of the moonlight in Eddie’s eyes made you smile contently, and as if he saw as much, he leaned in to capture your lips with his once more.

Eddie kissed you with such ardent tenderness that you feared your knees may buckle beneath you; you lightly hooked your hands on his elbows to keep steady. How could this be so easy, this spark between you two that reignited in no time at all? Was it simply nostalgia that drew you like a moth to a flame? You so desperately hoped it was more than that, that the two of you weren’t just getting caught up in the excitement of Eddie’s return.

You slowly pulled your lips from his, pressing your foreheads together as you buzzed from head to toe. The silence between you two was calm, like a kind of enchantment that you couldn’t help getting swept up in.

But as your breaths mingled, a nagging voice sounded in the back of your head, your conscience reminding you that you were an engaged woman running around with a simple mechanic. Your brow furrowed, wishing you could just send the thought away without a concern, but you knew to be better than that.

You pulled a little further from Eddie so that you could meet his eyes, your expression anxious and somber; it took him a few moments to notice, his own look going from lively to worried as he studied your face.

“What is it, dove?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circles on your cheeks again. You pressed your lips firmly together while swallowing, fighting off your nerves; you knew what needed to be done, even if you didn’t want to be the one to do it.

“Eddie…” You cupped his hands in yours before gently pulling them away, taking a tense step back that caused doubt to flash across his face. You shook your head at yourself with a sigh, “There is something I should’ve told you.”

Oh, how tempted you were to run deeper into the hedge maze, to hide instead of confront the truth and break Eddie’s heart in the process. Your tongue felt heavy now that you had to say those damned words, and as you kept your eyes locked on Eddie, you could see his trepidation, as if he already suspected what you were about to say.

So, you bit the bullet before your nerves could win out again, “I’m engaged.”

You could see the exact moment his eyes dulled and his heart became heavy, feeling instant regret beginning to stir in you. If only you hadn’t said it, if only you could simply whisk that statement away - anything to bring a smile back to his lovely face.

As Eddie’s gaze dropped from you, you took a step back towards him, although you had to keep yourself from gently grabbing him, knowing your comfort most certainly wasn’t wanted right now. Nonetheless, more words spilled out of you, as if that could make things better.

“If I had known you were coming back, I would’ve found a way to prevent this. God, Eddie, if I could’ve just predicted you’d return, I wouldn’t have let this happen.”

Eddie sighed deeply, his jaw flexing; you couldn’t tell what he was feeling, as the look on his face was one you’d never quite seen before. Was it anger or pain or sadness or confusion?

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, unable to look away now that you’ve hurt him.

Eddie bit his lip, keeping his eyes on the ground as if he were still processing this information, his head shaking slightly at all the thoughts that must have been going through his mind. Unexpectedly, he whispered back with hoarseness, “I’m sorry, too, dove.”

Your brow furrowed as Eddie met your eyes again, his gaze appearing black in the darkness, which made him nearly frightening. What did he have to apologize for, he wasn’t the one who hurt you, after all.

The corner of his mouth pulled up, although there wasn’t any amusement to the expression, “I shouldn’t have come tonight - I gave us both too much hope.”

“But you are not the one who kept a secret.” You replied apologetically, “You are not the one who demanded a kiss and then broke the other’s heart.”

Eddie stared at you for a long, tense beat, “You’re right. And yet, somehow, I feel as if I’ve landed you in trouble once again.”

Your lips parted, but you didn’t make a sound, looking between Eddie’s eyes as you still tried to figure out what was going on in his mind. A weak, distressed laugh left you, a sound of disappointment as you tried to center yourself.

“Were we simply getting caught up in all of this?” You vocalized the fear you’d held the entire night, the fear that maybe your guileless excitement might fade away and you two would be left with nothing but old memories. Eddie’s stare remained unreadable for what felt like an eternity, and you began to feel antsy beneath his dark eyes.

He took a cautious step towards you, your heart catching in your chest as you watched him carefully. Each step taken made you more nervous, and yet you stayed firmly planted where you stood. You felt static all throughout your body as you waited, a shaky breath passing your lips as Eddie came close and dipped his head down towards yours. For a moment, you thought perhaps he’d kiss you again in spite of it all, but instead his eyes locked with yours, gaze dark and heavy with a depth of emotion that you wished you could begin to understand.

“I hope that this is no folly.” Eddie whispered longingly before straightening up. He backed up from you, his expression growing tender as he drank you in, the confusing weight of all these feelings adding pressure on his mind; once he had put what he deemed a safe distance between you two, he smiled sadly, “Good night, Ms. Talbot.”

And just like that, he walked off, long legs carrying him so quickly that it was almost like a magic trick. You stared at the spot he once stood, sighing with sadness and longing; how you so hoped this wasn't the end of things for the two of you, as it felt they had only just begun.

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Eddie had managed to keep his distance for three days following that night, busying himself with tasks and chores that would ensure he didn’t have to run into you. Assisting Wayne in the gardens, cleaning up the mess of a garage, running into town with one of the maids to purchase goods - anything was better than having to see you and that forlorn, longing look in your eyes.

Eddie was foolish to have assumed that coming back to Talbot Manor would be easy, that he’d be able to fall back into his old routines as if nothing had changed. He’d become so very swept up in you so damn fast that he hadn’t even considered a boyfriend or fiance or husband could be a factor that would keep you apart; why that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, he didn’t know. But he certainly should have known better than to cave to the excitement you both felt, and yet he had done so anyway.

It was easy enough to stay away from you, but what wasn’t so easy for Eddie was the temptation to watch you when you thought no one was looking. There’d been so many times over the course of these days when he’d spot you meandering the garden while he was out in the field or lazing about the porch while he was in the cottage cleaning up after a day of hard work. The first time it happened, Eddie assumed you saw him too, for how could you not notice him cleaning up scraps in the vegetable garden while you walked the orchard? But you always seemed to be lost in some reverie, and he would get lost in watching the beauty that was you.

After three days of managing this, Eddie thought he’d be okay, that he’d find enough distractions to help him abandon his childhood crush that he was foolish to hold on to in the first place. Doing so meant that he’d have no trouble with Sir Talbot, it meant that you could go into your future marriage without the burden of his feelings on your shoulders. Perhaps all would be well, and the two of you would carry on with your lives as if you’d never seen each other again to begin with.

On the eve of that third day, Eddie was lying in bed when a wolf’s howl caught his attention, the sound strangely enchanting to him. At first, he startled slightly, for the night had been silent up till that point; he waited patiently to see if perhaps the call had woken his uncle, if Wayne was perhaps stirring in the cottage’s single bedroom. But the older man was still snoring soundly, and so Eddie tried to roll over and sleep despite still feeling wide awake.

But the animal called out again, and it filled him with a sense of foreboding. Perhaps it was because he remembered your reaction to the wolf that first night, the confused fear that flashed across your eyes; you had said wolves were supposed to be extinct around here, after all. Eddie allowed his curiosity to win out his logic, rising from the cot and going towards the nearest window, wondering if perhaps he could somehow catch sight of the animal; he lingered and lingered there at the window, but as the minutes passed, nothing happened.

As Eddie turned his back, though, another howl rang out, this time sounding closer than any of the previous ones; it sent a chill up his spine, wide eyes looking out into the night and up at the bright full moon overhead. Why was it that wolves seemed drawn to the full moon, he found himself wondering as he, too, became briefly mesmerized by the beacon of light.

There was yet another cry from the creature - Eddie had grown far too curious why the wolf seemed so damned worked up tonight. Letting this get the better of him, he scooped up his trenchcoat, a lantern, and Wayne’s shotgun, slipping into a pair of shoes and carefully stepping out into the night. He paused on the front step, eyes carefully looking about just to make sure the wolf wasn’t possibly upon him; once he deemed it safe, Eddie began to walk out towards the gardens.

He wasn’t expecting to have any kind of confrontation with the animal, and yet he couldn’t help the compulsion to explore. As he swung a wide berth around Talbot Manor, Eddie glanced up at the windows, drawn to the lights still shining out of a couple of them - one being your room, although he tried to ignore that thought.

The wolf called to him again, Eddie’s eyes roaming across the expansive grounds with a furrowed brow; just like the first night, it seemed the animal was howling from the north, as if it were hiding deep in the woods out there. Why Eddie felt such an impulse to chase after the creature, he didn’t know - it was fruitless at best, and dangerous at worst. But he couldn’t resist this sudden fixation, couldn’t resist the pull of mystery.

So, Eddie wandered, mindful of his surroundings as he went, passing by the flower gardens and the vegetable gardens, down a walking path that led to the Talbot woodland; he paused at the edge of the trees, knowing that he’d be foolish to continue forward. He should turn around, he knew, go back to the safety of the cottage and ignore the lively cries of the wolf; the animal was almost certainly far enough away from the home not to pose any danger. But before going back, Eddie lingered at the edge of the wood, the darkness like a wide open mouth and the trees like sharp teeth.

Movement off to his left caused Eddie to start, inhaling sharply as his wide eyes looked about for a sign of something. He slowly turned in a careful circle, grip tightening on the shotgun in hand; he was comfortable enough with using it, having accompanied Wayne on hunts, but he didn’t want to shoot bullets out into the quiet night if he could avoid it.

A rustle in the underbrush, and Eddie looked back into the dark of the trees; for all he knew, it was just an innocent squirrel or even a deer, but that didn’t stop his heart from beating wildly in his chest. He took steady steps backwards towards the safety of the Talbot property, cautious of his surroundings, mindful of any peculiar sound. Leaves crunched under his feet, each crinkle spiking his nerves; if there were a wolf nearby, would it not have already shown itself, would it not have already lunged at him like the easy prey he’d made himself?

Eddie gasped, thinking he saw eyes somewhere in the shadows, bright and clear and far too level with his to be the height of a wolf. But just as quickly, that hint of light was gone, although the scare was enough to make his blood run cold. He froze for a few tense moments, swallowing as he waited to see if the supposed-eyes would reappear; his gut told him that there was something there within the woods, something that he shouldn’t turn his back on.

But when no strange sounds or sights made themselves known after a prolonged, strained minute, Eddie began to move again, taking long strides backwards. His eyes were unblinking as he continued to stare into the endless dark, hearing the anxious pumping of his blood flowing in the otherwise silence.

And then another cruel howl followed by a frightening snarl sounded from before him, causing Eddie to shout out in fear, tripping over his suddenly frantic feet and falling heavily onto the wet grass. He began to scramble backwards, wide-eyed stare searching the woods in a panic; he wasn’t certain why he felt it, but it seemed that the animal was mocking him, that it had waited for just the right moment to give him the scare of his life.

Pushing himself back to his feet with fraught stumbles, Eddie abandoned caution and ran up the hill as fast as humanly possible; he didn’t care if presenting his back would prompt the wolf to chase after him, he needed to put distance between him and the woods, between him and the dangerous animal. His arms pumped wildly, coattails flying behind him as the lantern swung heavily in his hand; he was almost certain he heard heavy footfall over his shoulder, but he didn’t dare look back.

Eddie practically crawled up the slope of the hill, pushing his legs even harder once he’d reached the upper gardens, daring to glance around as he ran madly past Talbot Manor. With the mansion looming tall and imposing, comforting in its own strange way, Eddie finally decided to shoot a frenzied look behind him - but when there was nothing there following him, he slowed so abruptly he nearly skidded to a fall, his expression bewildered.

Steadying himself, Eddie tried to catch his breath as his eyes darted around in every direction; there was no wolf, no monster, nothing except the creeping evening fog and the ever familiar gardens. Eddie made a strained sound of exhaustion and frustration, spinning in every direction just to make sure he was, in fact, safe and alone; a pathetic laugh escaped his throat as he threw his head back, feeling both relief and confusion in tandem.

He couldn’t have been imagining things, could he? There was most certainly something in the woods with gleaming eyes, there had to have been something chasing him simply to taunt him - he couldn’t possibly have been so confused that his mind made that up. His chest heaved, the air cold enough that he could see his breath, and suddenly Eddie felt another shiver of fear course through him.

“Eddie!” A voice sharply hissed, causing him to startled and look about himself; with the manor off to his side, Eddie saw you sticking your head out the window, your confusion clear under the light of the full moon.

Your eyes were alight with concern as you gazed down upon the frantic man, the night air gently blowing your hair about your face. Eddie’s face was drawn with fright, eyes wide and terror-struck - it was an expression you hadn’t seen on him since childhood, since that day when you two snuck into the abandoned chapel. You looked at your family’s sprawling property, eyes trailing from the gardens to the woodlands out towards the direction of Hawkins; you saw nothing of alarm, but Eddie’s energy certainly had you spooked.

You returned your worried gaze to his face, trying not to raise your voice too much to draw attention, “What’s going on? I heard you shout.”

Eddie shook his head, still breathing heavily through his mouth as he stared up at you, “There’s something in the woods.”

“The wolf?” You asked, having also heard the creature’s cruel howls; you shivered, worried that perhaps the animal was growing bold, that it was going to start lurking around your home.

“I don’t know if it’s a wolf.” Eddie answered gravely, making your blood run cold. Your distressed gaze once again roamed around, hyper aware of anything that may seem out of place; but there was nothing to be seen aside from an owl flying above the trees.

“Eddie…” Your eyes softened as you stared down at your friend, “… Come up.”

He appeared taken aback by the request, looking at the vines and the trellis and the ornate architecture of Talbot Manor; back in the day, he’d learned how to climb up the side of the structure with ease, using the accents and the lattices as grips to bring him all the way to your window. But, of course, that was when he was a spry young boy; for all he knew, he wouldn’t be able to make that same climb now that he was a man. He gave a shake of his head.

“Either you come up or I come down.” You said firmly; you’d known he’d been avoiding you for three days, and considering the strange circumstances of this evening, you couldn’t do with any more time apart from him.

Eddie considered your words, looking about himself once more before sighing heavily, carefully stashing his gun and lantern in the nearby bushes. You tried not to smile too eagerly as he carefully looked the wall up and down as if he were planning his climb. Once he started the trek up, you stepped back from your window to grab your robe, uselessly wrapping it around yourself before returning to the window and pushing things out of the way.

You could hear Eddie grunting with effort, and so you stuck your head back out for a moment, nearly surprised at how quickly he was making the climb; you grinned a little at the expression he gave you, a boyish vexed delight.

Eddie tugged himself up and into the room, huffing as he found his footing; you closed the window behind him, leaning your rear against the sill as you contently looked him up and down. Eddie turned to face you, the low light of the room accentuating the planes of his face; you crossed your arms as you carefully looked him over.

“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, eying the mud on shoes, the grass on his coat.

Eddie nodded, “More spooked than anything…”

You bit your lip nervously, pushing off the windowsill and taking careful steps towards him, “You said… you don’t know if it was a wolf?”

An unamused laugh escaped Eddie, who rolled his eyes at himself, “I know that that must sound crazy of me.”

You quickly shook your head, gently setting your hand on his arm, “No, you were scared, that doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

Eddie eyed your hand, the way your fingers carefully squeezed the fabric of his coat. He seemed to deflate a little, dropping his head, “It seemed too big… but if not a wolf, I haven’t a clue what it could be.”

You stepped even closer, placing your other hand on his arm as well, your brow furrowed attentively, “It couldn’t have been a bear, could it?”

Eddie shook his head again, eyes seeming a little glazed over as he recalled the last ten minutes, as he tried to find details in his memory that he may have missed the first time, “Didn’t sound like a bear. But maybe I’m just confused.”

He exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his shoulders thanks to the comfort of your presence; for the time being, any conflict between you two was forgotten.

Seeing how confused and tired Eddie seemed, you guided your hands up his arms and to his cheeks, your touch gentle and caring as you two stared at one another, “Maybe you are, but we both know you weren’t imagining things - I heard it, too.”

Eddie looked between your eyes in consideration, searching your expression as your thumbs began to rub comforting circles on his jaw. He leaned into the touch a little, breathing steadily in and out as more of his anxious energy began to melt away. Eddie’s eyes became hooded the longer he stared at you, and at the same moment you were both reminded of the fact that you hadn’t seen each other in days, that you hadn’t spoken since his first night back, that being alone together in your private room was a far more intimate thing than either of you should have allowed.

You dipped your head a little, voice quiet, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Eddie countered in a similarly small tone, dejection weighing on his shoulders. He was nervous to touch you despite that being the only thing he wanted, nervous to let his guard down again and continue this taboo that you two had begun.

“The engagement wasn’t something I ever wanted,” You continued to whisper, drawing yourself close enough to Eddie so that you were nearly chest-to-chest, “I would’ve happily become an old maid awaiting your return if I had thought it possible, but father wanted to make sure I was cared for should anything happen, and people began to talk about my age as if I was already too old, and--”

Eddie abruptly wrapped his arms around your middle, his lips crashing down on yours like waves upon a shore, a surprised little sound leaping out of you as you tensed up. But just as quickly, you melted into him, kissing Eddie back as if his taste was intoxicating, clinging to his warm body as if fearful of losing him again. His hands upon you were wild and desperate as they squeezed and pressed you close, his mouth hot and wicked as he kissed you as if you were a lifeline.

Your arms snaked around his neck as you kissed him back fervently, your heel lifting off the ground as you moaned into Eddie’s lips. His grip on your body was rousing, his hands feeling every inch of you that he could, memorizing you with his fingertips. It felt an impossible task to break away from him, but you did so abruptly, realizing for a moment that you forgot how to breathe due to the severity of the kiss.

Your noses brushed as you gasped for air, Eddie’s lips close enough that you could still feel them teasing against yours. His eyelashes tickled your skin, prompting you to pull back just far enough to meet his lustful gaze.

“I can’t stop myself around you,” He admitted breathlessly, chest heaving in time with yours, “I have to stay away lest we both end up in trouble.”

“I don’t want you to stay away,” You whispered against his lips, fingers affectionately playing with the hair at the base of his skull, “You were away from me long enough. I don’t care if we’re just being foolish, or if we’re hung up on the past; you’re back, Eddie, and I’m not going to let you go again.”

“Dove…” He muttered the nickname as if it were sacred, “When the time comes that this must come to an end, you better push me away.”

You shook your head smally, firmly grabbing his cheeks again as you stared into his dark eyes, “I’m too selfish for that.”

Eddie chased your lips, capturing them in another chaste kiss, “Then we’re both fools just asking for trouble.”

“So be it.” You kissed him back assertively, longingly, with all that pent-up desire you’d been holding onto for so many years. Eddie breathed desperately, tongue snaking its way into your mouth with an eager groan. You felt like you were on fire as you pressed up against him, relishing in the feel of his body reacting in time with yours, his hands groping feverishly, his hips flush against your own.

Blindly, Eddie tried to guide you in the direction of something, anything that he could prop your body against so he could lavish you; you smiled into the intense kiss as you two tripped over your own feet, your rear finally bumping into your vanity and making everything on top fall over or roll off. You broke the kiss briefly to giggle at it, Eddie’s eyes alight with amusement as he shushed you.

“Be careful.” You whispered with another small laugh, kissing him wistfully as he helped scoop you up so you could sit upon the vanity tabletop. Pressing himself between your legs, Eddie’s hands delighted in the feel of you, pushing your thin robe from your shoulders, fingertips grazing over your bare arms. You shuddered at his touch, back arching, which only urged Eddie to continue to explore you, hands ever so gently drawing an invisible line from your breasts down to your thighs.

He began to tug at the material of your nightdress, fighting with the fabric just so he could expose more of your skin; as your ankles, your calves, your knees became exposed to the air, another chill ran through you. Eddie’s hand ran down the length of your calf, fingers hot and the metal of his rings even hotter, each touch sending you into a frenzy. Pushing the skirt up over your knees, his fingers squeezed your thighs with greed, goosebumps breaking out across your sensitive skin.

Eddie pulled away from your lips to meet your gaze again, eyes hooded and dark as they burned into yours. You salaciously smiled at the lustful look on his face, wanting so desperately to drag his lips back to yours, barely able to contain the hunger you felt for him. His hands continued to squeeze your legs, and when he pressed his hips against yours, you whined at the feel of his erection at your hot center, the layers of clothing between you nearly offensive. The needy sound in your throat made Eddie throb between your legs, and impulsively you rolled your hips against him, watching his eyes practically cross with pleasure.

An eager, breathy laugh left your mouth, prompting Eddie to plant another firm kiss to your lips. You haphazardly shoved at his coat, so he pulled back and quickly dropped it to the floor behind him, hands going right back to your body as if he couldn’t stand being away from you. Instead of returning to your lips, Eddie trailed kisses along your neck, from under your jawline all the way down to your collarbone, inhaling your scent with an animal excitement. Your fingers twisted in his hair, head thrown back as you delighted in the feel of his hot mouth against your skin.

Eddie’s hands returned to your thighs, an annoyed grumble sounding in his throat as the fabric of your drawers kept him from enjoying the feel of your sweet skin. Again, you couldn’t help but laugh airily, delighting in his desperation to touch you, to which Eddie gave you a hungry glare. With a huff, he pushed your skirt out of the way, fingers trailing along to the upper trim of your drawers, assertively tugging them down your legs in one quick move.

A shock of electricity jumped through your nearly exposed body, panting as Eddie tossed the garment aside and returned to you, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you zealously. You impatiently felt along every inch of his body, relishing in the flex of his muscles beneath your hands, the way he tensed as you dipped your fingers into the hem of his trousers; his erection twitched against your thigh, making you feel hot all over as you moaned.

Eddie drew his face away from you, to which you chased after his lips as if you were starved; he smiled tenderly as he held you back for just a moment, meeting your amorous eyes and searching them. Without having to say the words, his look was a question, seeking the assurance that this is what you wanted; you bit your lip with a small nod, practically throwing yourself at Eddie in your wanton desire to touch and be touched.

As you planted sloppy kisses along his lips and jaw, Eddie fumbled with his pants, knuckles brushing your inner thigh which sent a tingling jolt up your spine. He grabbed your legs, fingers squeezing hungrily into your skin as he tugged you closer to the end of the vanity, causing more items to clatter off as you gasped at being pulled.

Eddie gave you a wicked grin before kissing you deeply, savoring the sensual taste of you. He maneuvered, hips snug between your legs as his cock grazed your inner thigh, so, so close to your entrance that it made you keen; he grabbed himself, knuckles brushing along your folds and sending another chill through you. You moaned into his mouth, lips more insistent against his as you steadied yourself with one hand propped behind you and the other securely holding Eddie’s shoulder.

He broke away from the kiss again so he could look you in the eyes, his gaze sultry and tantalizing as he positioned his tip to press up against you, drawing another lewd, impatient mewl from your mouth. As Eddie eased slowly into your heat, the noise that left your lips was utterly sinful, forcing him to cup a hand over your mouth, his commanding expression utterly provocative as you clenched around him. He held in a groan of his own, the sound rumbling low in his chest once he was hilt deep inside you, the size of him making your eyes roll back with ecstasy, your mouth hanging open in bliss.

Eddie stayed perfectly still for just a moment to compose himself, the sight and feel of you was so damn overwhelming that it made him feel like a virgin all over again. And, god, the way you looked back at him with your body wound tight like that was so erotic, he had to be careful not to wake the whole damn house.

Hand still gently pressed against your lips, Eddie began to roll his hips slowly, pulling nearly all the way out of you just so that he could sink sweetly right back in again and again and again. The desirous sounds of your rapture humming behind his hand was intoxicating, spurring him to move a little bit faster, to push a little bit deeper.

Your hand on his shoulder fisted the fabric of his nightshirt, your other desperately grabbing the corner of the vanity for purchase as you sank lower on his cock. His slow, deliberate thrusts made your eyes cross, your moans becoming more urgent with each push of his hips against yours. Eddie was utterly alluring to watch, lips parted as he moaned, sweat breaking out across his forehead as he tried to be oh-so careful of his thrusts.

Desperate to feel him deeper, you rolled your hips in time with his, causing you both to cry out as Eddie hit just the right spot. The change of angle made him tense abruptly, pulling his hand from your jaw so he could brace himself against the vanity; his eyes burned into you, as if challenging you to move like that again.

With a haughty look on your face, you did just that, rutting your hips experimentally against Eddie’s, toes curling at the pressure created on your clit. The sight of his brow knotting with pleasure bolstered you, urging you to move faster and deeper, pathetic sounds falling past your parted lips as you threw your head back.

Eddie’s hands grabbed desperately at your hips and thighs, fingers digging so harshly into your skin that it nearly hurt; he began to move his body greedily against yours, his cock somehow burying even deeper into you. He rested his forehead against your cheek, his hips jerking up into yours with more force as inconsolable whines sounded in your throat. He spread your legs wider, pushing your knees up higher, each shift and rut driving you wild as you already began to come undone.

Sweat was beginning to make your skin slick, your ass sliding down the vanity as Eddie’s thrusts became more urgent and feverish. Satisfied groans leapt out of him as he held your body steady, strong hands gripping tight to your hips as you arched up into him. As Eddie shifted one of your legs up even higher, you had to bite your own hand to refrain from shouting out with pleasure, his deep angle making your legs shake and clench around him.

The back of your head bumped the vanity mirror, and you realized then just how much noise the piece of furniture was making, the wood groaning under your weight, bumping against the wall. Were you of sound mind, you would have stopped Eddie, but you were too far gone, gasping and mewling with delight as his cock pumped in and out of your slick heat.

Eddie’s hand reached down between the two of you, fingers wickedly circling your clit as he continued to rut deep inside you, a string of satiated sobs passing between your lips. Your thighs clamped tightly around his hips, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your movements became jerky and desperate, the sensations sparking through your entire being impossible to contain.

You grasped wildly at Eddie’s back, nails digging into his skin, body quivering uncontrollably; he was unrelenting, dexterous fingers eagerly rubbing your clit, cock pumping quickly in and out of you. As your body began to feel like static electricity, his own thrusts became more frenzied, his grunts and moans in your ear growing more feral.

“E-Eddie, I--!” Your mouth moved of its own accord, your attempt at words unintelligible as his hips slapped against your ass, your entire body clamping around him as your climax rapidly overcame you. The fervid whimpering moans falling from your lips were utterly blasphemous, the sound of your satisfaction making it nearly impossible for Eddie to keep it together. His hands held tight to your waist and hips once more, your body shuddering as your orgasm rolled over you in wave after wave.

Eddie could feel the tension then leave your body, his grip becoming even more firm so that you didn’t simply melt off the vanity table. With hungry grunts he thrust up into you, his body unyielding as he used you to reach his completion; a ditzy, satisfied smile graced your lips as you felt his movements become more desperate, his hands becoming more greedy, ready to come undone at any moment.

Eddie hissed through clenched teeth as his hips slapped into you, your orgasm making you so wet for him that it was downright sinful. The rut of his cock inside you became manic with each thrust, his hands clinging so tightly to you that his knuckles were white; he was so goddamn close that he unconsciously whined, the sound making you sigh even as your eyes were still crossed.

Hastily, Eddie pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the lack of him, trying to keep your vision straight so you could drink him in. Eddie grasped his cock firmly in one hand, pumping into his fist as his head dropped back with a string of groans. He came abruptly, his seed spurting between his fingers and onto your exposed stomach, to which you gasped while still trying to come back down to earth. With his other hand, Eddie steadied himself, his weight causing the vanity to lurch a little as he continued to leak onto you, his chest heaving with labored breath.

For a long minute, you two were silent save for heavy gasps and inhales, Eddie’s eyes wound shut as he tried to recover from his orgasm; you watched his face with pining and zeal, savoring in the way his body seemed to shake from the intensity it went through. When finally he looked at you again, his gaze was hooded and dark with yearning, drinking you in carnally; your eyes locked, and briefly you were hypnotized.

Eddie reached out for you tenderly, whispering your name as he brushed his thumb along your lip, his fingers down your neck. You sighed deeply at the tenderness of his touch, eyes fluttering shut. You hummed in contentment, taking a few deep breaths before you met Eddie’s gaze again.

His smile made your heart flutter, the way he studied you made your toes curl; when finally he looked away, it was to scoop up the abandoned pair of drawers that you had long forgotten about. His gaze was amorous as he cleaned up his mess, causing you to giggle a little as if finally the thrill of the evening was setting in, as if you were finally able to wrap your head around what had just transpired between you two.

Eddie helped you sit back up, pulling you into a swift, needy kiss that nearly took your breath away. You pressed your foreheads together, breathing in the scent of each other’s sex, hesitant to speak words for fear that they may somehow shatter the moment. You gently cupped Eddie’s jaw, his own hands bracing against the vanity once again; another giggle hummed in your throat, and you felt the twitch of Eddie’s mustache as he smiled in response.

“It’s a miracle this poor vanity didn’t break.” You whispered hoarsely, your words causing Eddie to laugh as well.

“It certainly did us no favors.” He answered just as quietly. A tranquil beat of silence passed between you two.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Your doleful statement was the burdensome reminder of reality - Eddie couldn’t be found here, and you had to go on pretending as if nothing happened. You felt him sigh deeply, breath tickling across your cheeks.

“If only things were that simple, dove.”

“Stay a while longer, at least.” You pleaded, pulling back to meet his eyes, “The night is still young.”

You, of course, had no idea what time it was, although you were certain if you were to look at a clock the hour would take you aback. Eddie shook his head with amusement, as if he’d just thought the same thing, his hands trailing to rest against your hips, where his thumbs rubbed small, comfortable circles into the fabric of your nightgown.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He answered sweetly.

“Promise?”

Eddie gave you a gentle, doting kiss, “Promise.”

[PART ONE] | [MASTERLIST]

taglist | @3rd-conchord @ali-r3n @chaoticgood-munson @chaptersleftunwritten @daisy-munson

@duncanhillscoffeecups @eddiernunson @evilunicorns4minions @ilovetaquitosmmmm @jasminelafleur

@lavendermunson @letstevengrantsleep @littlexdeaths @marlena-marlena @mmmunson

@skrzydlak @tenthmoon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson #stranger things #em

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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End Game 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: the best way to spend you Tuesdays is pissed at an old man.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Time passes too quickly. The clock counts down to your fate. Again. It feels like you’ve done this already.

You laugh even though it hurts. You try not to think of what comes next. You just stay in the moment and help Kara clean up the mess the cops made of her place. She’s in high spirits considering. A night in jail can put things in perspective. So can the prospect of life imprisonment.

You order sushi. You figure if Andy’s paying, you’ll splurge. She doesn’t ask how you can afford it and you won’t explain. Fuck it. It’s your last hurrah. A final little spark before your flame is tamped out.

When it’s time to say goodbye, you’re choked with tears. You fight not to show it as you hug Kara and tell her you’ll message when you’re settled in your new place. You want to cling to her forever. You sense a reluctance in her as well.

“You okay?” She looks you over as you pick up your purse.

“Yeah. Yeah. A lot of change. Tired.” You yawn. You really are exhausted. “I was so worried, Kar. Really. I'm so happy you’re out.”

“Oh, tell me about it! But hey, I’m kinda a bad ass now. I got street cred.” She flexes her arms and giggles.

You laugh too. You’re going to miss that. You will hold onto every lame joke and cherish it on those days when you can’t make yourself smile. You know with Andy, those will be far and few between.

You leave and linger outside the door. This could be the last time your here. You won’t think that it could be the last time you see Kara. Too many ifs, and just as many scary certainties.

You reply to Andy’s text. He’s waiting around the corner where he won’t be seen. It’s bad enough you’re lying to Kara, but her knowing the reality is worse. At least in this, he is your ally. You meet him there.

He smiles and kisses you as you buckle your seat belt. Your disgusted by him. You say nothing. If you speak, you might just tell the truth. You lean back and close your eyes. He shifts into gear and the engine whirs softly in the night.

“You okay?” He asks.

He asks you that as if it should be. You turn your face to the window.

“Tired,” your murmur.

He steers into a lot and you look up at the bright white facade of the hotel lit by spotlights. It’s the kind of hotel you could never afford. You never stayed in one before but you expect one of those roadside motels is more your pay grade.

It feels like another boast. Look what I’m giving you. Look what you wouldn’t have without me. Yeah, yeah. You owe him.

He gets out and you follow. That’s how you’ll get through. Let him lead the way. He’s so much older, so much wiser, so why not? Just go along with it all. He knows what he’s doing. Exactly what he’s doing. He entrapped you. He pretended to be his own son and tricked you.

Your angry thoughts boil over as you enter the hotel room ahead of him. He steps in close enough to brush against you. You pull away sharply and focus on untying your shoes. You drop them and stare at your hand.

“I need the bathroom.”

“Oh, it’s just down--”

He points and you’re already on the move. You rush into the bathroom and lock the door. You want to scream. No, stay calm. You can’t let him get to you like that.

You stop and lean on the counter. You look at yourself in the mirror and exhale slowly. Sleep. Don’t worry about anything else. You need rest. You can see it in your eyes. You can feel it through every part of you. You push off and go to the door. You emerge and stop short.

One bed. Your bag is beside it already. You can tell he’s been there all day. You sit on the edge with your back to him.

“TV has streaming. Tub has jets. Your pick.” He suggests. There’s a fragility in his throat that irks you. He’s acting like he’s afraid of you. Like you have any power in this situation.

“I’m going to lay down.” You lower yourself to your side and curl up.

“Shouldn’t you... you want something to change into?”

You don’t answer. You’re empty. You don’t have anything left. You just want to lay there and never move.

“Sweetie?”

“Tired.” You say.

“Right, well...” The TV flicks on and the menu clicks as he shuffles through. “I’ll put on something for white noise. I’m gonna hop in the shower. Figure I’ll do it now so we can get on the road early.”

You grumble and shrug. You close your eyes. His presence looms before his footsteps pad away.

He doesn’t close the door. It’s probably intentional. Does he think you’re going to go in and join him? Has he really deluded himself into thinking you want any of this? That you want him?

The shower buzzes lightly through the wall, beneath the audio of the TV. It’s some syndicated law show your grandmother had on all the time. You roll your eyes and shift to get under the covers. You nestle in and lets your fatigue cocoon you. Even so, you’re too agitated to fall asleep.

He emerges as you hide. You catch a glimpse past the blanket. He’s in only a towel. His thick arm is rounded with muscle and his broad chest is covered in hair. Boys your age don’t look like that.

You shut your eyes again as you burn in shame. You’re so stupid. You remember hearing his voice and thinking it couldn’t be some scrawny kid. You knew it! You knew it and you were too shy to call it out.

Andy gets closer to the bed. You can smell the scented soap and feel the moisture in the air. The zip and rustle of his bag stir beneath the television. The bed dips behind you and he groans. He lays down and hooks his arm around you.

“Hey, how ya doin’?”

“Get off,” you hiss.

“Huh? Sweetie.”

“I said I’m tired.” You push him away and roll off the bed. You trip as the blanket catches your ankle. You spin to face him. “I’m tired and I want to sleep.”

“I know, honey. I just--” He sits up, leaning on his arm. He’s in only a pair of briefs. Ew. “I was checking on you.”

“I’m trying to sleep. I don’t need you all over me.”

You come forward and grab the pillow. He seizes your wrist and keeps you from retreating. You tug and growl between your teeth. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Why are we going backwards? I didn’t do anything.”

“You need--” you twist your arm in his grip. “You need to give me space, okay? Give me a chance to think. I can’t-- Andy. You knew the truth all along, I didn’t.”

“Backwards,” he drones in an annoyed monotone.

You drop your shoulders and huff. “Fine.” You let go of the pillow and put your knee on the bed. “Fine. I’ll come back. I’ll sleep in the bed.”

He lets you go and you put your back to him again. He sighs and his weight shifts behind you. The tension roils over you. Let him simmer. You’re on fire in anger and shame and despair. He can handle a bit of neglect. He deserves it.

🎮

You sleep. Not soundly. Each time you rouse, you remember where you are. Each jarring reminder adds to your struggle. You scrape together a few hours, if that.

You crawl out of the bed as Andy’s even breaths turn stolid. You can’t bear it any longer.

You sit in the chair and stare. You don’t bother with your phone or the TV. There’s nothing that can distract you from your life.

When he wakes, he says good morning. You feel his gaze but you react. He asks a question but you don’t respond. You just sit and watch the wall. His shadow moves around the room, around you.

He nudges you. You wince and surrender. You look up at him dully.

“Hey, wanna hop in the shower before we go?”

You shake your head.

“Okay, well, you should probably change into some fresh clothes,” he says. He checks his watch and your eyes find the digital clock by the bed.

You stand and grab your bag and your purse. You carry both to the door and step into your shoes, bending down the backs under your heels.

“Sweetheart--”

“Let’s go.”

“You can’t go out like that--”

“Who cares? I'll just be in a car.” You grumble. “I just want... it to be over.”

He silently measures your words. He grabs his keys and slings his bag on his shoulder. He nears and you grab the door handle. “You’re right,” he pulls the door back as he reaches above you. “Can’t wait to be home.”

Home. That word sinks like a boulder in water. You go out into the hallway and he points you toward the elevators. Across the lobby and outside across the lot, under the dim early morning hue.

He puts your bag in the car for you. You let him. Then he opens the passenger door and you climb in. He gets in on the driver’s side and starts the car. He asks if he should turn the air on. You shake your head. You can’t feel much of anything.

He doesn’t ask as he stops at a drive thru. He gets you both a coffee. You thank him only as you sense his eyes on you. You just have to do enough to keep him off your back.

“Alright, let’s go,” he takes the paper bag of biscuits and bacon and hands it over. “In case you get hungry, sweetheart.”

Another thank you. Your voice is gravelly and grim. You don’t sound like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. The motion of the cars disorients you. You feel trapped in your body. It’s as much a prison as the house waiting for you at the end of this journey.

The road sprawls ahead of you. Your vision glazes over. Your head lolls against the seat as NPR drones in your ears.

Hours and hours. You eat only as he asks for some of the food. You know he’ll accuse you of being ungrateful if you waste the sausage and pastry. You chew and swallow without tasting. You wash it down with the bitter coffee and wipe your fingers on your shorts.

“There’s napkins,” he rebukes.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just saying...” he grips the wheel tight. “Why don’t you close your eyes? I know you didn’t get much sleep again.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. He knows you didn't sleep. Is he so clueless as to not guess the reason?

“Mm,” he grumbles.

You turn your head and gaze unseeing out the window. His sighs put you on edge. You twiddle your fingers.

“You’re in yesterday’s clothes and you’re barely talking,” he insists.

You cringe and put your head straight. You drop your chin and shrug. “I’m sorry, Andy.”

“I’m trying to be patient,” he lowers the volume on the stereo as he speaks. “But I’m worried. What happened to the girl I know? The one I spent all night mining with? The one who would giggle at the creepers?”

You nearly shriek. You flip your hands down and squeeze your legs. You bite your lip until you think it might split.

“Things are...different,” you mutter.

“I know but we can do it together. We can change each other. For the better. I just need you to meet me halfway.”

“I’m trying,” you whisper.

“I’m not saying you aren’t but trust me. I know that communication is the most important part of a relationship. We have to talk to each other.” He explains. “Look, I’ll be honest. I’m scared too. I’m nervous. It’s been a long time since I had someone and sweetheart, I just—I’d hate to let you down. I really would.”

Relationship? Scared? It’s too much. It’s a bunch of lies he’s convinced himself of but you can’t believe them. You can’t make yourself, even if you know you should.

He’s well off, he’s established, he’s older, he’s confident. He's offering you everything a woman wants; money, a home, a partner, yet you can’t accept any of it.

You didn’t choose this. You never even had a chance in your life to consider it. To imagine who you would want those things with. He’s snuffed that part of your future out along with your trust. You can at least thank him for ridding you of the last of your naivete.

“Okay, Andy. Trying. Honest. I’m trying but... I don’t know what to say. How to say it.” You run your hands down your cheeks and exhale. “I’m still thinking.”

That’s true. You have nothing to say. You’re lost. He might know where he’s taking you but you have no idea. It’s not about the house or the city or any of that. It’s about everything. What does he want you to be? Can he figure that out when you never even figured out that question for yourself?

#end game #andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

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venus-haze · 2 years ago

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Secret Identity!Homelander x Reader Headcanons

Note: Gender neutral but mildly fem-coded reader, and no descriptors are used. This is inspired by the throwaway line from season 1 where Homelander mentions having a secret identity, but not keeping it for long, so I imagine it’d have been in the 2000s when he was in his 20s. My brain really latched onto the idea, and this is the result. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Voyeurism, relationship under false pretenses, obsessive and disturbing behavior. Do not interact if you're under 18.

• Your new neighbor moves into the apartment next door seemingly overnight, but luckily you have a box of brownie mix and some powdered sugar tucked away in your cupboard and decide to make some as a ‘welcome to the building’ gesture

• His name is John, and he apologizes in advance if he wakes you up with his coming and going since he works odd, inconsistent hours as a crime reporter for a small, independent newspaper

• You notice the Indiana University logo embroidered on his sweatshirt and cheerfully say, “Hey, you’re a Hoosier! I’m sure you’re already working on your March Madness bracket.” He nods along as if he understands what the fuck you’re talking about. The two of you continue small talk until you make your leave back to your place. He goes to his computer, groaning at his choice of Indiana as his home state when he doesn’t know anything about basketball, let alone March Madness and brackets

• Over the next week or so, he realizes just how unprepared he is for living on his own, but luck’s on his side, because he hardly has to worry about doing much cooking or cleaning himself when you’re constantly inviting him over for dinner and offering to bring his clothes over to the laundromat with yours since you “know he’s so busy with work”

• Sometimes he has trouble keeping his backstory straight, though he is at least able to bullshit his way through your questions about college and basketball. That doesn’t faze you at first, as he keeps you enraptured with his inside scoop on crime in the city. You’re none the wiser as to how he knows the intimate details of some of the cases, under the impression that he’s just a great reporter

• He keeps tabs on you from afar, Homelander doing quick fly-bys of the area where you work just to make sure everything’s okay. He was raised to be a hero, after all. When you’re alone in your apartment, however, he has no shame in looking through your walls and listening in on what you’re up to. He knows everything about you, the type of music you listen to, the TV shows you watch, the food you go for when you wake up for a midnight snack, that you call your best friend every Thursday night at nine, no detail is too minute for him

• One evening, he decides to take a closer look at your place while you’re in the shower, until he looks through the bathroom wall and feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you. He slips his hand down his pants, and, well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. It becomes a habit, his guilty pleasure of getting himself off whenever you’re naked in your apartment

• To you, though, he’s still your hot neighbor-friend John, who your coworkers have been pestering you to make a move on, telling you that it sounds like he’s straight from a Hallmark movie. You’re reluctant, but you start to consider something with John when you mention wanting to get rid of some of your older, worn-out furniture and buy new stuff and lament having to pay a company to move. He volunteers to help you during the weekend

• It’s almost funny how he pretends to struggle to move the furniture when he could rearrange your entire apartment without breaking a sweat. He seems to be a good actor, though, because he notices your forehead creased with worry as you watch him move a couch himself. He likes your eyes on him for a change, and though he flexes his muscles every chance he gets, the concern awakens something in him. It’s nothing less than calculated when he “accidentally” drops the couch, pretending to hurt his arm in the process

• You’re frantic as you rush to his side to inspect the damage. Of course there’s no bruising, a truck would have to land on him for that to happen. Still, you gingerly touch his arm and he pretends to hiss in pain. You disappear into the kitchen, only to return with a bag of frozen vegetables in your hand and guilt etched across your features

• “John, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” you ask, brushing his hair from his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into your touch as he assures you he’ll be fine. The furniture moving project is over for the night, and you order a pizza and let him pick a movie to watch. Your movie collection is almost foreign to him, having been raised on a carefully curated selection of propaganda and clean American classics. He picks Dirty Dancing on a whim, and it proves to be a good choice as you gush over how much you love the movie

• For the first time in his life, he indulges in greasy junk food and cheesy movies, feeling that pang in his heart again as he watches the romance unfold on screen, the one weakness he could never quite get over, loneliness. He notices how as the movie progresses, you end up curled up against him. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering to himself if it’s actually a date all along, and from the way you keep glancing at his lips, only to bashfully look away when he catches you staring confirms that

• He can hear your erratic heartbeat and decides to just go for it, stealing a kiss from you in the middle of the movie. From then on, you’re dating, and suddenly this persona of his becomes far more complicated than he anticipated. You make him happier than he’s ever been in his life. He wants to keep you incredibly close, both of your respective free time consumed by each other, even while he’s Homelander, unbeknownst to you

• John may as well be your dream boyfriend in the beginning of your relationship, attentive and romantic, bringing you to a nearby park on your first official date for a picnic and to try the famous Dirty Dancing lift scene. “Let’s at least try!” he insists. “I’ll catch you.” Despite your hesitations since he’d hurt his arm moving your furniture just a few days ago, he catches you with an almost unbelievable ease on the first try, to your delight. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” you laugh as he sets you down, pulling him in for a kiss

• He buys you elaborate floral bouquets and increasingly expensive gifts, to the point where you wonder how the hell he has that kind of money as a reporter unless he gets paid off by the same criminals he’s supposed to be reporting on. Sometimes he’s troublingly jealous or says things that unsettle you, but you assume it’s because of the line of work he’s in, being exposed to the worst of people. Besides, whenever you get even the slightest bit nervous by his words or actions, he seems to know just when to swoop in and calm you down

• Definitely has no concept of personal space or normal sleep schedules. You’re the first non-Vought affiliated person he’s ever had any kind of relationship with. It’s intense and things move pretty fast, like "I love you on the third date" fast. He idealizes you a lot. Emotionally you’re stretched thin by having to fill the role of lover, parent, best friend, confidant silly rabbit

• Date nights at your place are comforting and domestic, but going out is always an adventure with him. His lack of knowledge of generally getting around New York is downright strange since he reports on crimes all over the city. Not to mention, people do double-takes when they see him, as if they recognize him from somewhere but then figure otherwise. It happens way too often to be a coincidence, though

• Sex with John can also be unpredictable, passionate and loving to intense and almost painful. He’s into some weird stuff and doesn’t have the best etiquette when it comes to his kinks. Not to mention his stamina is almost inhuman, and when you comment as much after he fucks you the fourth time in under two hours, his response is strange, to say the least. You chalk it up to years of sexual repression that he maybe didn't get out during his college years

• Still, he supports and adores you, so you can deal with the frustration and emotional exhaustion when he knocks on your door at eleven at night, letting out a dramatic sigh as he flops on your couch and you take the cue to ask him how his day was. You know there’s something he’s keeping from you, but you decide not to push it. He’s just as interested in your everyday life, hell, he wants you to bother him with the mundane stuff. That’s what boyfriends are for, anyway. You have no idea of what his true identity is, yet you still love him

• It can’t last forever, though, because you work late one evening, so he decides to check up on you, just to be safe. The scene he descends on is almost too perfect, the type of scenario he’d seen played out in the Vought-branded Payback cartoons he watched growing up. Still, seeing the man so much as pointing the knife in your direction as he demands you hand over your money and valuables almost makes Homelander lose control

• He lands in between you and the man, who takes a nervous step back. “Not so brave now, huh, buddy?” Homelander scoffs, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it, the knife falling to the ground as he screams in pain, clutching his broken wrist

• The situation becomes even more nightmarish as you watch America’s fresh-faced hero push your attempted assailant onto his knees, a cruel gleam in his eyes and sneer on his lips as he grabs the man’s head and twists. You can’t bare to watch, gagging when you hear a distinct snap followed by the crunching of bones

• Homelander turns to you, taking you into his arms for what’s supposed to be a comforting embrace, “It’s alright now. You’re safe with me, babe”

• Your brain pretty much short circuits as you realize your boyfriend John is actually the most powerful superhero who ever lived, and you just witnessed him break a man’s neck like it was a toothpick

• Naturally, you pass out, right into his blood-covered hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead and takes off for Vought Tower. No need to pretend anymore, right?

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander headcanons #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys headcanons #the boys tv #the boys amazon #'headcanons' this is long enough to be a fic but fuck it we ball

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arkhamknightz · 2 years ago

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TOLERATE IT

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary; in which, spencer starts to get distant from you, and all you can do is sit and wonder why - part 2

warnings: age gap (just a few years, not specified but mentions of him being older) no happy ending, lots of angst, reader is angry and i mean very angry reader, sad spencer at the end, spencer before prison

notes: criminal minds obsession comes back every year and its on its annual visit rn! anyways I know reader kinda goes after him in their fight but I’m venting. i’m open to writing a part 2 with a happy ending if anyone wants it!

You sat on the other end of the couch while Spencer sat with his legs up reading a book, a small frown on your face as you watched him. He had suddenly become distant in the last few weeks. You had passed it off as a rough case, but usually his odd behavior never lasted this long.

You had asked the team if he had been doing alright, but to them nothing had been out of the ordinary, he was still the same Spencer at work that he always was.

You woke up next to him the morning after, and sat and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, but you couldn’t help but notice you didn’t wake up with your head on his chest or with his arms wrapped around your waist like you did before.

You sat and watched him for a while, savoring the morning. You knew things weren’t gonna be as peaceful when he woke up. He stopped waking up early to read to you at the kitchen counter while you made him a coffee before work, and he stopped rambling to you when he got back.

He stopped doing all the little things you loved, but you patiently waited for him. You waited for things to go back to normal and for him to stop treating you like you were some ghost in the house. It never happened. He started going to bed earlier, leaving the house later, avoiding your questions about what was going on with him. He stopped holding you at night and started facing away from you.

You laid on your back, facing up towards the ceiling. A million thoughts swarmed through your head at once. It wasn’t a secret Spencer was older than you. But had that started to bother him? He was much wiser than you were, even despite the fact he was a genius. Had you become too needy? Had something happened at work that none of them thought was appropriate to tell you about?

Spencer always told you when he was coming back from a case. He would always give you little details, not commenting much on the contents of it. He liked to keep you away from the horrors of his work, not wanting to subject you to such things. You would wait by the door and as soon as you heard the knob turn your face would light up like a kids in a candy store.

You stopped waiting for him. He stopped telling you when he was coming home. You turned your head, seeing he was still asleep. A small tear rolled down your cheek and you got up out of bed before getting changed and leaving the house. You walked to the small book store the both of you had met in, and you sat by the window.

You had put in effort to spend time with him, laying the table with your best dishes, his favorite food, but he brushed it off claiming he ate with the team. You made efforts to get him new books, make him coffee in the mornings before work, do his laundry and so forth. He never addressed it, never a thank you, you could hardly even remember the last time he said he loved you.

You thought it was all in your head, that maybe you had read things wrong and he was just having a really rough time. But his hard exterior hadn’t faltered in a while. Usually he was able to brush things off, talk to you after a few days and things would be okay. But there was this unsettling feeling in your chest, an ache. Things didn’t seem like they were gonna be okay.

You picked up a book off the coffee table of the bookstore. It was one of his favorites. You looked at the cover with a sad smile on your face. You used to greet him at the door like he had been gone for months, a hug and dinner waiting for him inside.

Now all that’s left were snarky comments when he got home, a bitter attitude and grumbles under his breath when you tried to talk to him. You sat and listened while he would poke at you after a long day, passive aggressive comments flying out of his mouth as you did dishes.

All you could do was just sit and listen. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t pull yourself away from your activities to be upset with him. You found yourself giving him the benefit of the doubt and more often making excuses for his behavior rather than addressing it to him directly.

It was getting a bit dark outside, the sun was starting to set and so you left the bookstore, the memories floating through the air as you left the shop. It felt like you left part of yourself in there somehow, you walked into the door of your shared apartment, dread seemingly started to fill your body.

“Where were you?” He spoke, his voice was quiet but you could tell he wasn’t happy. It wasn’t worry either, you know what he sounded like when he was worried. “I went out.” You put your keys down and walked past him, he turned around. “For hours? I woke up and no note, no texts, no calls, nothing.” You scoffed. “So you can do it but suddenly when I leave without saying something I’m the bad guy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You shook your head. “You know what that means Spencer. Don’t sit and play dumb with me.” You looked over at him as he rolled his eyes. “Its my job.” “You know what else your job is?” He looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “To actually fill your title as my boyfriend. You stopped telling me when you’re coming home, you stopped talking to me completely. I feel like a ghost in this stupid apartment Spencer!”

You laughed bitterly. “I mean come on, why do you care I was gone for so long? You can hardly keep eye contact with me anymore. Why’s me leaving the house any different huh? Like I leave you alone all day by my OWN choice this time and you still find a reason to be mad?” Spencer furrowed his brows at you.

“Are you kidding m-“ you slammed your hands on the table, eyes brimming with tears. “No! No I’m not fucking kidding. Why act like you suddenly care about where I was when you’re the one pushing me away? Mind you, you didn’t make any effort to ask me where I was all day anyways. My phones been on the whole day so don’t even make some excuse that you called or texted me and I didn’t respond. So don’t sit and fucking ask me if im kidding.”

He seemed surprised by your outburst. But oh you weren’t done with him. “I mean come on? ‘Are you kidding’ like do you hear yourself? Spencer I have been nothing but patient with you for the last what, 2 almost 3 months? What happened to the man who would throw blankets over barbed wire hmm? What happened to him? Because you’ve done nothing but avoid me and shut me out. You’ve barely spoken 5 whole sentences to me in the last 2 weeks! Two!”

Spencer interrupted you. “For the love of god can you stop talking!” Tears of frustration were falling down your face. “No! No you don’t get to do this to me. I have spent so long giving you nothing but love for you to turn around and shut me out completely. I’m practically begging for you to even pay attention to me for more than 3 seconds. So what is it hmm? Did I start taking up too much space and time in your life? Because clearly it’s not work. I’ve asked repeatedly if something had gone on that I didn’t know about and they said you were acting fine so what is it?”

He said nothing and you scoffed. You walked away and went into your shared bedroom before grabbing a suitcase and shoving clothes in. He followed in behind you, seeming panicked. “What are you doing? No no stop packing talk to me please.” You shook your head. “I did. You said nothing.” He shut your suitcase and spoke, his voice cracking. “Please we can talk about this.”

That only made you angrier. “Talk about this? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve had 3 months to talk to me about whatever’s bothering you and you still haven’t. I’ve tried my best I really have and that’s not enough for you apparently. I know you hear me crying at night. You’re a god damned profiler for crying out loud and you didn’t notice I’ve been trying to hold myself together in hopes you decide to care about me again?”

“I do care.” You opened back up your suitcase and stuffed in more clothes. “You didn’t think I’d leave? Spencer I love you but I’m not putting myself through this. When’s the last time you said that to me hmm?” He shamefully spoke. “2 months, 3 weeks and 5 days ago.” “Exactly my point.”

You went into the bathroom, Spencer pleading in the other room. You walked out with your stuff and put them in a backpack before gathering any other items you wanted to take with you. “I know my love should be celebrated. But all you do is sit there and tolerate it. I know I deserve better than to be shut out by you, I’ve tried my best to be patient, I really have. When you decide that you’re done dealing with whatever’s going on that you won’t tell me about, or you decide to let me back in call me. Otherwise don’t bother reaching out.”

“Where are you going?” He looked at you with tears in his eyes, voice shaking. “To stay with a friend. I love you Spencer, I really do. More than anything. But I won’t wait in this house any longer. Not when all you’ve done is shoot snarky comments at me when I’ve done nothing but care for you. I wont.”

You grabbed your bag and walked out the apartment. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you heard the door open back up. Not bothering to turn around. Spencer sat there and watched you walk into the elevator. A small whisper of his voice. “I’m sorry.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler angst #spencer reid #spencer reid taylor swift #tolerate it #evermore #taylor swift songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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book-place · 2 years ago

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Anti-Hero

Warnings: tua season 1 spoilers, mentions of killing and death, cursing, mentions of drugs, mentions of heart attacks, drinking, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Hargreeves siblings x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: When you left, all of your siblings hated you, and now you were facing them once more

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

You let loose a long breath and glanced hesitantly up to the tall, menacing building before you. The building of your childhood, if you could even call it that.

To be completely honest, you didn’t even know why you had come back. You hated your father and your siblings hated you, so why would you show up to the man’s funeral, when they would all be there?

As much as you wanted to turn back around and hail another cab to get you as far away from this place as possible, you put on a brave face and pushed the door open, stepping into the vast entryway.

Barely three small steps had been taken inside by you when you froze at the sound of your name being called.

“Y/n,” Allison had her lips parted slightly in shock from where she and Vanya stood at the end of the hall.

You swallowed thickly, “Hey, guys,” You greeted in a voice that was barely even audible to yourself. You toyed with the ends of your gloves nervously.

“Oh, um,” Allison cleared her throat and strode across the room to see you, stopping a healthy three feet away, “It’s so good to see you, Y/n.”

The words were forced, and you knew it, but you gave her a tight lipped smile and a nod anyway.

“Yeah, same here, Y/n!” Vanya called, and you knew in that moment that after everything, she must have been almost as uncomfortable with being here as you were.

If your original gut instinct wasn’t any indication before, then this interaction told you everything about how this visit would go.

The sight of Diego crossing to the staircase caught all of your attention and he snapped something about Vanya not being welcome back before his eyes snapped over to you.

“Y/n,” He spoke in an awkward greeting before skirting past the three of you and clambering up the stairs.

Not only did your siblings hate you, but you just got confirmation that they were also still scared of you. After all these years, when they had grown up beside you and learned how to deal with your ‘gift’, and yet, they were still wary of what you could and possibly would do.

Midnights become my afternoons

You sat on the windowsill in the attic, legs dangling out the window as you looked up at the moon and stars.

“I figured that I would find you up here, Miss. Y/n.” You heard a voice sound behind you.

Unconsciously, you smiled and turned around, “Pogo,” You greeted kindly.

His smile was something that hadn’t changed a bit over the years, “It is so good to see you.” He said genuinely, walking over until he could grasp your gloved hand and squeeze it gently.

He had always been the only one who wasn’t afraid of you. Of what touching you could do to them. Of how painful their deaths would be if they laid a single finger on your bare skin. How without meaning to, you would slowly and excruciatingly kill them.

That’s why you wore gloves and long sleeves at all times, so that no one would unintentionally be hurt by you.

“It’s late,” You hummed when you pulled away, “What are you doing up?”

“Why, I came up here to ask you the same question.” He mused.

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning your back against the wall, “I don’t usually go to sleep until really early in the morning.” You informed him.

“Well, that can’t be healthy.”

You laughed loudly, the first time you’d done so in what felt like many months, “It’s probably not.” You agreed once you sobered up.

Too busy looking back out the window, you failed to notice Pogo glance behind him and give a hidden figure a single nod of reassurance.

The only thing that brought your attention back to him was once he gave you a slight pat on your clothed knee, “I am always available if you wish to speak about anything.”

You smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Pogo.”

“Hey, n/n.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a new voice that spoke as soon as Pogo had left.

“Diego,” You breathed out.

“Listen,” He cleared his throat awkwardly as he shuffled into view, coming to a stop right in front of you- less than a healthy distance away, “I’m sorry about earlier. I just didn’t think you were actually gonna show.”

You smiled tightly, pulling your knees up to your chest, “Yeah, that makes two of us.”

He sighed, dropping down into a crouch before you and looking up into your eyes, “I know none of us left off on a good foot- especially with you- but I want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

Your chest tightened at his words. After all these years of thinking every last one of your siblings despised you for who you were- what you could do- you never thought one of your brothers would be telling you that he didn’t actually hate you at all.

“T-thank you, Diego.” You choked out, eyes filling with tears, “That means a lot.”

When my depression works the graveyard shift

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took tentative steps towards your fathers old office, the one that was supposed to be vacant now that he was dead.

The clattering of objects only got louder the closer you got, and it was making you nervous. Perhaps someone had broken in when they heard that the billionaire was dead? The last thing you wanted was to have to resort to using your powers, because you doubted any of your other siblings would come to your aid. Expect of course, maybe Diego.

“Hello?” You called out slowly when you stepped into the room. At the sound of your voice, a head popped up from behind your fathers old desk with a wide grin, and you couldn’t help but relax slightly, “Klaus.” You breathed out.

“N/n!” Your brother squealed, jumping up the rest of the way and scrambling over to you with outstretched arms.

Alarmed, you took a sudden step back, and he stopped short when he noticed.

“Oh!” He giggled, placing a hand near his mouth, “I forgot about the whole no touchie thing!”

“What are you doing in here?” Your eyes shone in curiosity, pushing down the thoughts that threatened to swarm your mind about Klaus’s first instinct being to hug you.

“You know,” He waved a dismissive hand, “Just getting ahead on my inheritance.”

Despite yourself, your lips twitched upward slightly at the words, “Really?” You asked in slight amusement.

The man’s jaw dropped open and he stared at you with wide eyes, “Was-was that a smile I just saw? Gosh, my memories from when we were kids consisted of you being completely stone-face.” He let out a shrill giggle again, “Though, I suppose I’m now the one that’s stoned!”

Whatever form of a smile had adorned your face immediately fell and you crossed your arms tightly over your stomach.

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

This was terrible.

The silence was painful to sit through. You must have looked like you had an itch with the way you were shifting back and forth on the couch you stiffly sat on beside Vanya.

Nobody was making eye contact with one another, it was just all of you- once siblings, now complete strangers- sitting in a tense circle in your childhood living room.

Finally, Luther cleared his throat and pushed himself off of the couch that was directly across from you, “So, I guess we should get started.” Everyone’s eyes snapped over to the man that had grown more than a little bit over time, “So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad's favorite spot.” He spoke awkwardly.

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison’s eyebrows had shot up alongside yours in surprise.

Luther’s own eyebrows furrowed, “You know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time.” He looked around for anyone to agree with him, only to be met with bewildered looks, “None of you ever did that?”

You shook your head softly, looking down at your hands that fiddled with one another from where they rested in your lap.

Klaus strolled over and began talking loudly, and you sat back and watched silently as everyone went back and forth a little bit.

“Listen up,” Luther tried to reign the family in once more when they got off track, “Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

“Like what?” Diego asked with a roll of his eyes from where he was leaning against a pillar near the fireplace.

“Like the way he died.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open a little as you looked at him, everyone else adorning similar looks.

“I don't understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack.” Vanya piped up in confusion.

“Yeah, according to the coroner.”

“Well, wouldn't they know?”

“Theoretically.” It was clear that Luther was beginning to realize that he had made a mistake by bringing this all up.

“Theoretically?” It was the first time you had spoken up, and you felt a couple of the others glance at you as you did so.

Yet again, your siblings began to bicker back and forth, and you sank lower into the couch cushions, not at all liking the way their voices raised more and more by the minute.

“Oh, isn't it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” Diego’s voice snapped you harshly back to the present and a dangerous silence overcame the entire room again.

You looked up at Luther in disturbance, only to find him already staring down at you. And all at once, you felt your mouth go dry and your throat begin to close up slightly, “You don’t actually think-“

All around you, your siblings caught onto what Luther was really indicating and they adopted looks of shock. Diego let out a low whistle, “That’s messed up, man.”

“Look,” Number one stressed, “I’m just saying, according to the corner, there was nothing wrong with him. With your powers- you could painfully kill a person without showing a mark.”

You hadn’t even realized when you had stood up, but flinched back violently, as if struck, “You think I would kill him?” You whispered with tears forming in your eyes against your will.

Allison pursed her lips and averted her gaze when you desperately looked around for help, making you realize that she was uncertain as well.

“Wow,” You breathed out tearfully, shaking your head back and forth softly before shuffling out of the room.

“Y/n, wait-“

“Good job, Luther.” Diego scoffed and hit his shoulder against his brothers as he trailed after you, “Way to lead.”

I should not be left to my own devices

Somehow, not too long after leaving the living room, you ended up in the courtyard surrounded by your sibling, gazing up with wide eyes at something floating in the sky.

“What is it?”

“Don’t get too close!” Allison called, moving to place her arm in front of you and Vanya, who had your mouths dropped open and took unconscious steps forward.

“Yeah, no shit!” Diego yelled back over the wind, eyes glared against the harsh wind whipping straight at all of you.

Per usual, everyone kept shouting back and forth at one another about what to do, and in doing so, Allison dropped her arm and you were able to slowly creep forward.

Just then, someone fell out of the thing in the sky, landing in a heap right in front of your feet, but everyone was too busy glaring at each other to notice.

“Guys…” You called back cautiously, “Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?”

They come with prices and vices

You sat on the stairs with your head in your hands, still trying to wrap your mind around everything.

At the beginning of the day, you had come back home expecting to say your goodbyes and possibly even make peace with your father. But now, your long lost brother is back, and not only that, but he claims to have been way older than any of you, whilst being stuck in the body of his thirteen year old self.

“Hey, n/n,” Said brother greeted, strolling over to where you sat with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a sandwich.

You linked your fingers behind your head and tried to smile at him, but you had no doubt that it came out as a grimace, “Five.” You greeted.

Before his disappearance, Five had been the only one who truly was never afraid of you. Even if Diego claimed not to be now, you knew he was still slightly wary, and with good reason too.

“I take it things didn’t go well after I left?” He asked, plopping down onto the stairs beside you.

A small chuckle left your lips at his bluntness. Same old Five.

“No,” You agreed, “They never stopped being scared of me. And I never stopped being scared of myself.” You admitted.

He had always been the only one you could tell everything to about yourself without the fear of judgment.

The two of you fell into a silence that consisted of him munching on his sandwich thoughtfully, “You know,” Five spoke up once he had polished it off, “I think the others have always been more intimidated by you than anything.”

Your eyebrows went up, “How so?” You never really saw yourself as an intimidating individual.

“Because you’re so much more powerful than we all are… and the old man knew that.” He stood up and gave you a tight lipped smile, patting you once on your clothed shoulder and disappearing up the stairs, leaving you to dwell in your thoughts.

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

Allison placed a finger over her mouth to signal for you and Vanya to stay silent from where your backs were pressed up against a wall opposite of her.

A large figure in a mask came creeping through the door that you stood on either side of with a large gun resting in his grip, making your heart tighten.

Right on cue, your sister lunged out, kneeing him in the stomach and punching him in the face the second he doubled over in pain.

Quickly, you ushered Vanya out of the room and made sure she was a safe distance away before spinning on your heel to face Allison and the man, the two now throwing punches at one another with the gun discarded to the side.

Without hesitation, you dove at the man and jumped onto his back, throwing him off balance and sending him to the ground.

When he fell, Allison reeled her foot back and sent it straight into his head, effectively knocking him out cold.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, panting and trying to catch your breaths.

“You know, Y/n,” She spoke up, surprising you, “I don’t actually think you killed dad. I would never think that of you. I was just in shock that Luther would say such a thing that I didn’t know how to react. A-and I’m sorry for not saying anything when he accused you and I know I should have-“

“Allison.” You cut her off gently, “It’s okay.”

She visibly relaxed as if a weight had been taken off of her shoulders, “And listen, I know you think we all hate you,” She took a step forward and slowly placed a hand on your shoulder, eyes searching yours for any sign that you were uncomfortable with the close proximity. “But we don’t, I promise you we don’t. You were just always isolated from us by dad- and I’m not saying it isn’t partially our fault- because it is, but we’re not kids anymore so there’s no excuse for how we acted. I’m sorry.”

First Diego with the apologies, Klaus acting like everything was normal, and then Allison. You couldn’t believe that your siblings were actually trying to make up with you.

Similarly to how when your brother first talked to you like this, tears began to form in your eyes and you smiled up at her, “T-thank you, Allison. That- that means a lot.”

She shook her head gently, “I’m just sorry that it took so long for me to be able to say it.”

I wake up screaming from dreaming

You gasped, shooting upright with heavy pants as you tried to regain your breathing and keep it under control.

You have been through this routine enough times to know what to do so well that it’s almost like second nature to you at this point.

“Y-Y/n?”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Vanya's voice. She stood in the slightly opened doorway of your childhood room, where you had just been sleeping.

“Vanya,” You breathed out, leaning your back against your headboard, “What’s up?” You swallowed thickly and tried to seem as normal as possible.

The woman hesitated, “I… I left something here so I came back for it but I heard a scream…”

You let a breath loose and allowed your head to fall back, “Sorry,” You apologized in a whisper.

She shook her head back and forth vigorously, “No, no, it’s not your fault. I get it… I get nightmares too…”

You lulled your head to the side and looked at her, “Yeah?”

She nodded, hesitantly shuffling into the room before slowly sitting down on the end of your bed when you moved your feet for her.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked gently.

It was then your turn to shake your head, “No, no, it’s nothing I can’t handle- nothing I’m not used to.” You reassured.

“Well… I’m here if you ever need anything.”

You smiled softly, “Thank you, Vanya.”

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

“Five?” You looked up from your plate filled to the brim with breakfast foods your mother had cooked for you as you watched your brother swiftly walk by, “What’s going on?”

“I need to run an errand.” He answered curtly, “I’ll be back soon.”

Anxiety began to set in the pit of your stomach, “O-oh, do you want me to come with you?”

He quickly shook his head back and forth, “There’s no need, it could be dangerous.”

That made the fear double inside of you, “Are you sure you have to go?” You saw him freeze in his steps when he heard the worry seeping through your tone.

He sighed softly and turned around to face you, “It’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip, “It’s just… you didn’t come back once. What’s to say it won’t happen again?”

“Me.” He reassured you, “I say that it won’t happen again. I won’t let it. I promise.”

With that, he gave you one last of his rare smiles and continued out of the kitchen.

'Cause you got tired of my scheming (For the last time)

“Oh, sorry,” You mumbled, eyes immediately turning downwards the second you entered the living room, “I didn’t realize anyone was in here-“

“Y/n.” Luther immediately shot up from where he had been sitting on the couch, “No, I’m glad you’re here.” Your quick steps to exit the room paused, “We should talk.” He cleared his throat.

You eyed him hesitantly, “About what?”

“I’m sorry for saying that you killed dad!” He blurted out, cheeks turning red as he spoke, “It’s- it’s just that I was so upset and I didn’t know what really happened so I was creating scenarios that I didn’t even want to come true and-“ He stopped himself and took a deep breath to calm down, “And I know that it’s not an excuse, but I’m still very sorry for saying that you would ever be capable of something like that.”

You stayed silent for a moment before slowly nodding your head, “It’s okay,” You said softly, “I forgive you.”

“Really?” He sighed in relief, “Good, because I was scared for a moment there because I was acting like such an ass and-“

“Luther.” You tried to push away the small smile that threatened to grace your face, “I already said it’s fine, just leave it.”

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

“We’re like outcast buddies!”

You looked over at Klaus with a raised eyebrow at his words.

The two of you sat on the stools near the bar in your living room, sipping on some concoction of alcohol that was no doubt older than both of you combined and would have given your father a heart attack at seeing if he was still alive.

“I’m pretty sure all of our siblings are outcasts.” You reminded him.

He sat there, pondering your words for a moment before signing and swirling his straw in his drink, “No, no, I suppose you’re right.” He frowned a little bit and slumped his shoulders slightly.

“Do you… want to be outcast buddies?” You asked hesitantly, eyeing your brother.

Immediately, he perked up with a large grin, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” He shrieked, “We can start a club! We can print t-shirts! We can invite new members-“

You chuckled, sitting back and watching in amusement as your brother got excited over seemingly nothing.

At tea time, everybody agrees

“Thanks for the food, mom, it looks delicious.” You said sincerely.

The woman smiled softly and reached over to cup your cheek, and you immediately leaned further into the touch. Because she wasn’t actually human, she could touch you without consequence. And though you knew it wasn’t the same as if another person touched you, you still took what you could get because it was all that you would get, even if it wasn’t real.

“Of course, sweetie.” She answered with that wide, kind smile of hers gently removing her hand after a moment and leaning down to place a ghost kiss on your forehead, making your eyelids flutter shut.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

“It’s really weird to look at, isn’t it?” Five asked, walking up and standing beside you, gazing up at the wall.

It was a portrait of you and all your siblings, before Fives disappearance and Ben’s death, hanging in some random of the many hallways of the home.

“It is.” You agreed with a sigh, eyes taking it all in.

The way Five was the only one standing even remotely close to you in the painting didn’t escape your attention. Nor did the way everyone but him seemed to have their bodies angled away from you just slightly.

You forced yourself to tear your eyes away and you cleared your throat, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we never had these powers?” You asked suddenly.

It had been a thought that had been eating away at you since you were at least seven, never having been voiced out loud by you.

“I try not to dwell on it,” Your brother admitted, “‘Cause there’s nothing we can do to change it.”

Despite his words, you allowed yourself, just for a moment, to picture what it would be like. To be able to hug people and shake hands without them having to worry for their life. To not be the scariest, most deadly person in any room you stood in.

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

All around you, walls were crumbling down and falling every which way. Each small piece of flying debris threatening to hit you.

Not so gracefully, you stumbled through the shaking building, blindly grasping onto the walls for support as you watched in horror as the house came apart all around you for reasons unknown to you.

“Y/n!” You whipped around at the sound of Luther, Allison, and Diego each calling your name and you began sprinting in their direction at the opposite end of the hall.

They each took a large step back when you neared though, causing you to pause, despite the fact that you needed to push on so that you didn’t get hit.

“What is it? What’s happening to-“ You began asking anxiously

“What did you do?” Luther’s words and tone of horror made the rest of your sentence die in your throat.

“How could you do something like this?” Allison whispered, and despite all the chaos, you somehow were still able to hear her. Her eyes shone with betrayal.

“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“Dad always said that you only reached the tip of the iceberg with your powers.” Diego was glaring at you coldly in a way that made even your heart freeze, “But I never thought you could be capable of something like this.”

“What-“

“Your powers are to destroy.” Luther hissed venomously, “You can kill everything around you, so why can’t you demolish everything in your path as well with just the touch of your bare fingers?”

Your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, much like the walls around you, “I would never- I can’t even-“

“I can't believe we trusted you.” Allison shook her head and slowly began backing away once more, “We’ll never make that mistake again.”

The other two trailed after her once they threw more harsh glares your way, not even caring as you sank down to your knees in shock, oblivious to the house that was still caving in on itself all around you.

You had nothing to do with this, you had no idea what was happening. How could they think that you did? After everything, all the progress you all made?

Your suspicions that you had first stepped into this house what felt like years ago- when it had only, in reality, been days- were true.

Your siblings truly did hate you.

The Hargreeves 🦹- @lovanitu @your-local-questioning-agender @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @mukbee @i-writes-things @kiyomi-uchiha777

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chimcess · 2 years ago

Text

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed.

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me.

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from.

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free.

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen.

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it.

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves.

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore?

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone.

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5.

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail.

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea.

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate.

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool.

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back.

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person.

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick.

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well.

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too.

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs.

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me.

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment.

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights.

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything.

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless.

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked.

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before.

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when?

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly.

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain.

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief.

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer.

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse.

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought.

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets.

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist.

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well.

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly.

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds.

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe.

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell.

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes.

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in.

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats.

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor.

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited.

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly.

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure.

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties.

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me.

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after.

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily.

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it.

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty.

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring.

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say. I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements.

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly.

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while.

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do.

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed.

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had.

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed.

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily.

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table.

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me.

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered.

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps.

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise.

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside.

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it.

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me.

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food.

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly.

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn.

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more.

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there.

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York.

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest.

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast.

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied.

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless.

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage.

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease.

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front.

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down.

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble.

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one.

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background.

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry.

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan.

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there.

Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something.

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture.

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease.

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room.

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus.

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be.

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything.

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched.

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me.

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that.

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt

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