#i can literally just walk around a single area for several minutes admiring everything

[morgan1413]

the detail and effects in this remake are nothing short of gorgeous 😍 one of the few games where I'm sad that there's no photo mode 🥺

[helnjk]

Stitching Together - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader 

Requested: yes !! by my lovely bean marissa @lumos-barnes

please accept my humble request for a george x reader where the reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and george knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself. complete buffoonery when the reader is near. they become friends & do all these nice things for each other and the reader is oblivious like "george, i'm so lucky to be your friend" (even though the reader is secretly simping) and he's like "um what, i'm literally in love with you"

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of meals and drinks (coffee), but other than that it’s just pure fluff & Dumb Idiots In Love

A/N: somehow i always end up writing george knitting? idk how it happened, but it happened. i hope you like it marissa 🥺💕

–

You took a step back to admire your handiwork. 

After what seemed like neverending hours, the layout of your shop was finally perfect. From where you stood, you had a view of the streets of Diagon Alley, several passersby coming and goings from your sight. The display of charmed knit work by the window was already moving, demonstrating simple stitches that formed into a scarf. 

It had always been your dream to open up your own shop in the most prominent wizarding area of Britain, with your passion for knitting and crafting, but the timing had always been off. Now, about a year or so since the war had ended, your grandmother surprised you with the capital to make your dreams come true. 

The gesture was extra special because she was the one who first taught you how to knit. Many summers were spent in her cottage, sitting side by side and working on personal projects together. 

Outside, your sign read ‘Stitching Together: Grand Opening’. There were a few flyers posted right on the door and on the window advertising the different classes and crafting groups you were offering, as well as the different products that could be found in your store. 

It was as if your heart could burst at the sight of your fully furnished shop and you could wait no longer. With a flick of your wand, the sign on the door flipped to say open and that was that. 

–

“Hey Freddie, have you seen that new shop that’s opened down the street?” George yelled from the bottom of the stairs once the last customer of the day made their leave. 

“Haven’t gone in, but it’s gotten a lot of customers from what I can tell!” the disembodied voice of his twin replied from somewhere above. 

As he began the process of cleaning up and reshelving, products floating in midair or zooming towards their proper shelves, he called out once more, “What type of store is it d’you reckon?” 

“Arts and crafts? Something like that.” 

George’s eyes drifted towards the shop window, where he could just barely see the outline of the new store. Dusk had begun to set in London, so the sky was filled with brilliant hues of purple and orange. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided that he would go welcome the new shop owner to Diagon Alley. 

With a shout to let his twin know where he was off to, George strode out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and into the brisk weather. Luckily for him, Stitching Together was still open. He could see you bustling around inside, fixing displays and swishing your wand to tidy everything up.

It had only been around a month since your shop had opened, but the local wizard folk of London seemed to be very keen on buying the different things you sold. Many came around to purchase the instructional books and the different kinds of wool and yarn, and some of your regulars had even taken an interest in the classes you held weekly. It was a great way for you to get to know the community and to establish friendships. 

You had always taken note of the joke shop a few shops down from you, but with the hustle and bustle of just opening, you hadn’t had a chance to visit or introduce yourself to the owners. It was just your luck that one half of them pushed open the door to your shop, the little bell at the top of it ringing to indicate his presence. 

“Oh, hello!” you smiled, turning to face the redheaded man, “Welcome to Stitching Together, what could I help you with?” 

Unbeknownst to George, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. How could a man be so positively handsome you didn’t know, but at the sight of him standing by the door, all you could think about was how gorgeous he was. And he hadn’t even uttered a single word yet! 

The charming smile he sent your way did not help the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. ���Just popping by to say hello and welcome to Diagon Alley! My twin and I run Wheezes just down the street,” he said. 

Your smile grew as he stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Oh I was just thinking about how I’ve been wanting to pay your shop a visit! I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“George Weasley at your service,” his hand was firm and warm as he shook yours, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Nice to meet you!” 

“So tell me about your shop!” 

Somehow, after that evening, George Weasley snuck his way into becoming a part of your daily routine.

Every morning he would show up with two cups of coffee in hand right before your shop was set to open. After realizing that you depended on caffeine to function throughout your day, he made it a point to bring you one everyday. As you sipped on your coffees, the two of you would spend a few minutes chatting about your plans for the day before going to work. 

Whenever you would offer to pay for your own cup or even try to insinuate that you could get your own coffee in the morning, just so that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble, he would stop you in your tracks.

“But George–”

“Nope!” he would say in a voice louder than yours. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I really feel for your customers who have to deal with a Y/N that hasn’t had her coffee fix. Could you imagine the grumpiness? Not on my watch!” 

You would roll your eyes, but secretly it warmed your heart how sweet this boy could be. He was slowly inching his way into your life and becoming a great friend. 

–

“So,” said Fred one day as George had gotten back from delivering your daily coffee, “The bird from the knitting shop, huh?” 

His twin only rolled his eyes in response, used to the teasing that came with being brothers (and twins) with Fred Weasley. Instead of engaging, George went instead to do the routine last check over their store before they officially opened their doors. Still, Fred couldn’t resist the temptation to continue provoking him. 

“Oi! C’mon, you bring her coffee everyday even if you don’t like the stuff. If I don’t remind you that you have a store to run, you would spend the whole day staring out the window just to catch a glimpse of the girl! Tell me you’re not whipped for her,” he teased, following George through the shop.

From their position at the till and on the second floor, both Verity and Lee tried to hide their smirks. This was too good a story to not eavesdrop on. 

“Come off it, Fred.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m just being a good friend, that’s all!” 

“Yeah but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends.” 

The cheeky wink Fred sent George was not appreciated, as the prior soon found out, having to duck away from a stinging hex. Still, Fred’s laugh rang through the semi-empty store as he ran away from his brother. 

Later in the day, as the lunch crowd tapered off, the four of them were left to mull around a bit. Lee and Verity were off taking stock in the back room, Fred was doing some accounting (because his twin couldn’t be trusted with any sort of math), and George was reshelving some Skiving Snackboxes. 

The bell above the door to the shop rang, but he couldn’t quite tell who came in from his position towards the back of the shop. 

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he yelled, rushing to get all the boxes in order before he could help the new customer, “I’ll be with you in just a second!” 

Just as he admired his handiwork, eyes scanning the display to make sure nothing was out of place, a familiar voice called from behind him, “It’s alright, take your time. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” 

George almost jumped out of his skin as he heard your voice. He was so surprised that as he turned to meet you, his elbow caught on the edge of one of the Snackboxes and the whole thing toppled over. 

You watched as the tower of boxes crumbled around him, and your hand automatically covered your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. It didn’t work, though, and soon the whole store could hear your guffaws. 

Thankfully, George was a wizard, and what would’ve taken a muggle quite some time to fix, only took a quick flick of his wand. 

“Oops,” you smiled at him bashfully as he finished, “Didn’t mean to startle you, Weasley.”

“Erm, it-it’s alright,” he blushed, “I just didn’t expect you to come ‘round today.” 

In truth, the reason why George was so flustered at your appearance at his shop was because he had just spent most of the afternoon thinking about you. He often did that, getting lost in his thoughts about the many little things that made you, well, you. The deep breath you took before that first sip of coffee in the morning, revelling in the aroma. How your face lit up when you spoke about the different people you met in your classes. Your hands and how skillfully they worked whatever project you were creating at the moment. 

He wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but what his twin had said earlier in the day was accurate. He was absolutely smitten over you. 

“Well you’ve been a regular over at mine for the last couple of weeks, I’m just returning the favor and visiting my favorite redhead at his place of work!” 

“I-I,” he stuttered, his brain refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was your favorite anything. 

Fred, who had heard the commotion and had gone down to check if everything was okay, nearly face palmed as he watched George fumble through his words. The man was whipped for you, no doubt about it, and as a good twin, he decided to save his brother from further humiliation. 

“I think what my lovely twin here is trying to say, is that you just haven’t met enough redheads to make your decision about your favorite one,” he said, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. “Fred Weasley, at your service!” 

Your smile immediately brightened at the sight of George’s twin holding out his hand for you to shake, “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, George’s told me loads about you!” 

“Has he?” Fred raised his eyebrow, turning to look at George who was still a little dumbstruck at the sight of you in his shop. “Well, that just means it’s my turn to spend some time with such a lovely lady. C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the shop!”

“Oh I’d love that.” 

With a small glance and wave at George, you took the arm that Fred was holding out for you, and so began his (largely amusing) tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” yelled Fred the moment you left the shop. 

George groaned into his hands, embarrassment creeping back into him. He had acted a fool, unable to even mutter a single sentence to you the whole time you were around. 

“Mate, I have never seen you so flustered around a girl,” his twin muttered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Just tell her you’ve got feelings for her! Ask her on a date, do something! From what I could tell, you’re not the only one who’s caught feelings.” 

“It’s not like that between us,” he said, “I doubt she even notices how much I fancy her.” 

–

Somehow, George wound up taking Fred’s advice. Though, in typical-George fashion, he never explicitly mentioned to you anything about the way he felt. 

Instead, he would stay around your shop longer in the mornings, taking slower than usual sips of his coffee (which he still couldn’t say he preferred over a good cup of tea). Other days, he would come around closing time and help put everything back in order and if he was lucky, the two of you would go out to dinner. Of course, he would also never let you pay a sickle for your meal, no matter how much you insisted. 

Weekends were usually spent together as well. 

Saturdays were for brunch and muggle films on the telly. It was one of the rare occasions he would drink a beverage in front of you that wasn’t that (god forsaken) coffee. 

Sundays were more for crafting together. He would floo into your flat after having lunch with his family and the two of you would continue working on his little project. 

“My mum loves to knit,” he mentioned one day, while he observed your quick hands skillfully moving the thread through your needles. “She knits us all sweaters for Christmas. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” 

“That’s lovely,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, anyone who’s practically family gets one too. Like Harry and Hermione,” he mused.

“I could teach you how to knit her something, if you wanted,” you offered. “It’d be something pretty simple though, especially if you’ve never knitted anything before.”

The smile he sent you was so dazzling, you had to take a moment. You were practically melting under his tender gaze and you swallowed thickly, trying to gain your composure. 

 “That’d be bloody brilliant, Y/N!” 

You only hoped he didn’t notice how your face got hot and how your hands couldn’t move the needles to do what you wanted, too flustered to be precise with your movements.

Since then, the two of you spent most of Sunday afternoons making sure George had the correct strings of yarn on the correct needle. You would keep a close eye on him and his progress, but most of the time he was alright on his own. Sometimes, he would purposely sit closer to you on your couch and you could practically feel the warmth radiating from him. 

In between knits, your eyes would drift towards his focused face and you would smile. George had a habit of poking the tip of his tongue out when he was knitting. Something about the gesture helped him concentrate, and you found it absolutely adorable.

The more time you spent together, though, the more confused George got. It was getting to a point where in his head, it was impossible to miss what he was trying to say with his actions. You had to have caught on by now. And, since you hadn’t acknowledged what was going on between the two of you, he had assumed that this was your polite way of rejecting him.  

On a chilly morning, he clutched the warm cups of coffee in his hands as he pushed the door to Stitching Together open with his back. 

“Morning, Y/N!” he greeted.

You grinned in his direction as he made his way towards you. The moment he placed the warm drink in your hands and you took your first sip, a small moan of gratefulness escaped your lips.

“Merlin, I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled to your cup. 

“Sorry?” George asked, brows furrowed slightly. 

“Oh nothing!” you quickly said, “I’m just really glad you’re my friend, Georgie.” 

Friend. 

The word seemed to make his heart sink down to his stomach and ignite something in him at the same time. It was time that he told you how he felt, no matter what would happen afterwards. He couldn’t keep going on pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. 

“Erm, about that Y/N,” he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his work uniform, “I’ve got to tell you something.” 

It was now or never. 

You smiled up at him encouragingly, almost oblivious to the bundle of nerves that were most definitely visible in his expression. 

“I-I don’t want to be just friends, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in anticipation.

“What do you want then?” you still didn’t understand what he was trying to say. 

In a burst of confidence, George took your hands in his and gripped them tightly, “I want to be with you. I fancy you loads, I think I might even be in love with you, Y/N. Honestly, I might’ve been in love with you from the moment I first walked into your shop.” 

Your lack of an immediate response left him to back track, “But I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to get it out there.” 

For a moment, the two of you were silent. George eyed you nervously, wondering what was going on through your head, bracing himself for the rejection that he thought was on the tip of your tongue. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, “Y/N? Do you want me to go?” 

Instead of answering, you flung your arms around his neck. He was so startled at your sudden gesture that he almost didn’t notice your lips on his. Almost. 

As suddenly as you had kissed him, all of his apprehensions melted away. Almost automatically, his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. Your lips melted together seamlessly. It was as if this was where the two of you were meant to be, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. 

Sooner than you had liked, George pulled away from you slightly. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but dip his head down to peck your lips again. Once, twice, three times. This left you a giggly mess, your nose scrunching up in a way that was practically begging him to kiss it as well. 

“Does that mean you fancy me too?” he murmured against your lips. 

“Absolutely, head over heels,” you smiled in return. 

The pair of you spent a brief moment with your foreheads pressed together, giddy smiles on your faces. That was until a knock on the door of your shop sounded. Immediately, you sprung apart, a blush coating tip of George’s ears and cheeks. 

A few people stood outside, eyeing you amusedly. 

“Oh shit,” you said, hurrying to flip the sign on the door to say ‘open’ and to unlock the door with a flick of your wand. “I completely forgot I had a class today.” 

As the small group of people began to file inside, they sent knowing glances your way to which you only groaned softly and looked up at George.

“I’ll see you tonight?” you asked hopefully. 

With a kiss to your cheek and a mischievous grin he said, “You can count on it, love.” 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @Mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy

crossed out means i couldn’t tag you for some reason, sorry!

[bangteamhyuk]

In This Rain

Genre:  Mafia (AU), Action, Suspense/Thriller, Smut

Mature content

Word Count: 4,962k

Characters: Police Captain!Namjoon, Police Officer! Reader, Mafia Boss! Jungkook.

Warning: mentions of drug use, graphic violence, language, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied dom!reader, emotional manipulation, mention of psychopathic characters, implied torture

Synopsis:  You admire your captain, your beloved Capt. Kim Namjoon. You admire him so much that you wanted to be by his side always, well, quite literally. Under his office desk, inside his apartment, on his bed and even on his dangerous mission against a vicious Mafia leader named Jeon Jungkook.

He’s been so obsessed in Jungkook, his formidable enemy on his entire career, that he’s been trying to apprehend him for years. Until both of you uncovered an unsettling truth as to why he always slithers: there’s a mole within your department.

Namjoon kicked the door hard with his combat boots, took cover immediately from the wall behind him, before aiming his gun to the direction of the open entryway.

“Freeze!” he shouted.

Yet he was the one that was left frozen at the scene. Two men, thin as a stick, were staring blankly at the ceiling. Clearly passed out with rubbers wrapped around their arms, old scabs and fresh jabs on their skin. Several discarded needles were left lying on the floor.

They look so oblivious from the presence of Namjoon and his team that you can’t help but call him out “Namjoon, I think we’re late” you shook your head, as you watched their cold and drugged out bodies sitting on a plastic chair, heads resting on the air.

“We are, they’re both dead” Hoseok said after checking their pulse. He stared at them for a moment, as if saying a prayer as he shuts their eyes gently with his finger.

Namjoon walked around the room and picked a used foil and a paper with logo of a lotus flower “Jungkook…” he mumbled to himself as he crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor in fury.

“Are you sure it’s him?” you went to pick it up and checked. It was definitely the symbol of his organized syndicate.

“Positive” Namjoon’s blood suddenly rushed in and felt nauseous at the thought, as he shut his eyes, hoping that he was wrong about it.

“It was a close one...” Hoseok rummaged through the pockets of the two men, but he found none.

“I was so sure, they’ll be here. Him and his men. But why does it look like they knew... You think” you shut your eyes and gasped, realizing what Namjoon might have just thought of earlier. “there’s a mole within the Department?” you continued, slowly turning around to see Namjoon’s reaction. His face turned grim and just weakly nodded.

“I trust that you two would keep this a secret, until we find who it is…” Namjoon swore. It wasn’t about money or his ego any longer, he wanted to end this. For years. Whatever this was, he wanted to stop people from dying, stop wasting innocent lives, end the fear of women and children always being on the brink of death.

“Roger” Hoseok nodded.

“Roger, Captain!” you blinked and stood up. You and Hoseok tapped Namjoon’s shoulder, assuring him that you two were on his side. Always on his side.

You and Hoseok stood behind closed doors, but it was very apparent that the chiefs and the  Department heads were clearly upset at the result of your team’s recent mission.

“Goddamit! We told you to think things through Kim and you blew it! You got one shot! One fucking shot, and you didn’t even get to meet a single strand of his hair!” the deputy chief exclaimed.

“What a waste of the city tax, really, you haven’t given us any valuable result” the Department head, fixed his paper and put everything inside his briefcase.

Namjoon just stood there, taking every thing silently. He was called names before, been spatted, got hit, everything. He’s the man who’s been through all horrible things and yet he still took it in. No wonder why you’ve like this guy, there’s something incredibly attractive about an underdog filled with potentials. It’s as if you’re hearing a club of hyenas around a lion, waiting for it to roar. He was the kind of leader you want to solemnly swear your loyalty, and that was the reason why you were there.

After the sham meeting, you and Hoseok just followed Namjoon towards your office room. He was clearly angry and frustrated, as well. But more than that he was determined to find another chance to get close to Jungkook . Namjoon went to his desk silently, and studied recent reports and profiles of people on his desk, piled and unkept.

Hoseok, feeling unnecessarily guilty, excused himself to get the team sandwiches from a nearby store.

You on the other hand, had something in mind to ease Namjoon’s frustration. “Hey there” you whispered on his ear. “Not here, Y/N. Not today” his eyes still concentrated on the screen. You gently pressed his shoulders, unbothered at his plea and made gentle circular motion, caressing his stiff shoulder blades. You slowly crouched down to kiss his ears and traced it down his neck. “You know what reminds me of your stiffness?” you chuckled.

“I said stop!” his quick reflex surprised you, as he held on to your wrist. His eyes stern, full of resolved. You stood up, and knew that he wasn’t up for any games.

“I just heard everything from the meeting. It’s hard to miss.” You folded your arms, as you watched him turn his back on you again and type disordered words on his screen. “Try, typing Gwangjin-gu, April 16…” you reached out for his hands to guide his finger from each letter on the keyboard, as he suddenly groaned softly to the sensation of your warm hands.

You smirked, seeing him freeze for a second. You crouched back down again and slowly reached for his legs hiding underneath his desk. “You know, it takes Hoseok about half an hour to get back? No one’s around. I’m sure you needed to let loose of that tension” you spoke softly, while caressing his legs. He slowly turned around from his seat and opened his legs.

“Give me 10 minutes tops, Captain” you smirked as you knelt down, and unclasped his belt.

Namjoon just stared at you blankly for a second, thoughtless and unsure. But as soon as he felt the warmth that you give right in the middle of his legs, he cursed and responded in pure ecstasy. You watched him toss his head and covered his mouth, trying not to cry out your name, but you love it. You love seeing your beloved Captain, the one people look up with so much pride and respect, becomes susceptible to your touch.

You were lounging in the smoking area during your break time, even though you aren’t smoker. You just like being outside, on a bench, and beside a vending coffee machine where you could refill your own cup.

“Hm, Sun Tzu’s Art of War” you heard Namjoon’s voice from behind. You nodded in agreement, as you finished the last line of the page and flipped it to the next.

“Read this about 9 times, still holds true” you replied, not leaving your gaze towards the book.

“I got a lead” he pulled out his cup from the vending machine and scoot beside you on the bench. You closed your book and turned to face him. Namjoon peered behind you, and looked around before he dropped the name “Seokjin”. You squint your eyes, trying to figure out how Namjoon arrived at his conclusion.

“You mean Kim Seokjin from the Hi-tech Crime Unit?” you spoke softly towards him, making sure no one hears even when it was only the two of you in the area.

He nodded, grinning. “I always wonder how he received information about them, everyone in his unit is as competent as he is but he would always get the best lead”

You smiled, finally beginning to piece things together. “It does seem odd Namjoon. It doesn’t make sense, but it does seem bizarre? How does he get those information?” you stared at Namjoon and smirked “I never thought of that, Captain. As always, that’s pretty smart of you to---”

“Y/N!” you heard someone call.

“Speak of the devil” you smiled at Namjoon then at Seokjin.

“Meet you after office hours?” Seokjin ran up to you, handing you a bag of sandwich. Namjoon tilt his head in confusion.

“Yeah sure” you blushed, turning your head to the floor at Seokjin’s sweet gesture.

“Y/N, are you…. Are you two going out? Since when?” Namjoon stood up, puzzled at the scenario. Clearly, you have left him out of the picture, but it’s not like you owe him anything. Besides weren’t you two clear about the position you two are in? Just colleagues trying to help each other out? Out of convenience?

“Kind of like that. Well, you never asked about our private lives, Cap” you chuckled. Not that he doesn’t care, but you know how much he respects his colleague’s personal space. Well, except on some occasion when you two needed to satisfy each other’s need. “Give me a minute, I just need to talk to my superior” you faced Seokjin for a moment and watched him wait for you at a distance.

“Cap, I’m sorry.” You cleared your throat and continued “The news surprised me too, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Can you trust me? I’ll try to look on to this. I swear, feelings won’t get involved. If I happen to find anything that might point a connection against Seokjin and Jungkook, I’ll let you know immediately”

“And what if he is? Are you okay with it? You know what will happen if he becomes part of our custody” he asked, worriedly.

You shut your eyes and nodded “I’m aware. I’ve been seeing him Jin for half a month now. It’s nothing compared to you, Cap” you looked down, refusing to look back at him, not when you just confessed your feelings for him albeit indirectly.

“Y/N…” he spoke softly.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You shook your head “I know this is purely work, lives are on the line…” You begrudgingly replied, then you paused. “That’s why I’ll make sure I’ll get compensated well on this” you slowly turned your gazed at him, now smirking.

“I can only pay what the government give--- ” you stopped him mid-sentence by pointing a finger on his lip, raising yourself up, tip-toed.

“Not that silly” He tilt his head again in confusion. “You, wrapped around my fingers. Go figure.” You whispered on his ear and chuckled. You turned around, and left him wondering on his own. It took him a moment before he realized what you meant. He bashfully chuckled at the thought.

After spending more time with Seokjin for months, you’ve finally gathered valuable information to report directly to Namjoon, which entails you in meeting him straight to his own apartment each night.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked, as he gathered his boxer he left from the floor. You remained still in bed, panting after doing a marathon with Namjoon. Namjoon opened his window to let the cold breeze enter his dull room.

You turned sideways and watched him moved out from the bed, savoring his bareness. “Nearly, ready”

He tied his discarded condom and threw it on the trash bin “Y/N, whatever happens tomorrow. I just want to let you know that I---” he paused, trying to construct what he was about to say.

You sat up, despite remaining bare “Shh” You reached him out for a kiss.

“If things goes bad tomorrow, I want you to know that you mean so much to me” he took your wrist and kissed the back of your hand, his lips pressed hard as if hoping that his pure intentions will get through your skin.

You shook you head. “Aren’t I just a colleague, Namjoon?” you smiled weakly, reminding him of the reality that you are just there for him… for his own convenience.

He cupped your cheek and kissed you again. “You’re my partner, in everything Y/N”

You parted and smile. “I’m glad you feel that way” you pushed him back to bed, and pulled his boxers off again, almost ripping it to two. You wanted to let him know he wasn’t wrong, about feeling that you are his.

He was clearly surprised at your reaction, and flustered upon seeing you right above him. You smiled, amused at the view. To see your beloved Captain in such a vulnerable position. And like a clockwork, you sat comfortably on his waist as you pulled his wrists towards you. You forced his palms open with yours and directed it to your chest, letting him feel you again.

You closed your eyes, as you let him cup you gently “Captain..” you breathed his name while you shut your eyes, and began moving your hips slowly.

“Shit” he quickly got hard again, and you felt that. You felt his excitement again after you shamelessly teased your beloved Captain. You took a sealed condom from  the bed side table and placed it on his harden length. He pulled one of his hand away and held on to it, then guided his length towards your entrance. You opened your eyes and smile.

“Ready for a second?” you asked. You watched him nod, as he began to push it in within you,  both of you cursed almost synchronously at the ecstatic sensation. You tossed your head, and began moving your hips.

He held on to your waist, and you relished on it. You relished the way your Captain held on to you, you relished at the sight of seeing someone strong like him depended on you for comfort and affirmation. Exhilarated at the view of him below you, exhilarated at the thought of your own superior, down at your mercy.

Seokjin informed the Investigation Department again, which the assignment was promptly relayed again to your team: “Apprehend Jungkook and his men in #32 Namdo Building Gangseo-gu District”

At the same time, Namjoon informed the Investigation Department of his suspicion against Seokjin.

“You sure, Kim? If you’re wrong about this, not only will you lose Seokjin’s trust but your whole credibility as a Captain…” Mr. Song, one of the Investigation head, reminded Namjoon.

“I am certain sir. One of my partner, Y/N, was able to gather pieces of evidence that may point out his guilt in conniving with Jeon Jungkook” he bowed and handed him a manilla envelope containing the things you took from Seokjin, secretly.

“Very well, we will take Seokjin in to custody after I examine these things. Good luck on your mission” he bid Namjoon good luck as he watched Namjoon ran towards his car while it rained.

“Point A to D clear” you heard Hoseok speak from you and Namjoon’s ear piece.

“Copy” you subtly replied from your microphone hidden inside your shirt. “Ready, Mr. Kim?” you fixed his necktie inside the car. He didn’t reply, his eyes were burning with hatred. You’ve never seen him this determined to be able to see Jungkook, his formidable enemy, finally in the flesh.

You and Namjoon, took great lengths over these past few weeks to be able to secure a seat on this secret meeting with the boss himself, Jeon Jungkook. Despite at his tender age of 22, he was able to amass a fortune more than his father and his forefathers could ever gain. And now at the age of 24, he was able to bring down all his enemies. Rumor has it, he would clear out his enemy’s entire family line so that no one could ever attempt to take revenge against the whole Jeon family.

But Namjoon was ready to risk it all, even if his own family was on the line. He was willing to wager everything he has, just to end his lunacy. Yet he still couldn’t bring to himself the idea of risking and losing you against Jeon.

“Y/N, if anything goes bad, I want you to run as far as you could. Away from this, okay? You know how vindictive Jungkook can be” he stared at you, longingly.

“Joon” you shook your head and corrected yourself “I mean Captain, I’m trained to face whatever remember? Whatever happens, I’ll show up. It’s part of my job---”

“Okay, lovebirds, enough chit-chat. You know this is recorded right? We’ll be handling our conversation to the heads, unless you wanted to let them know about your secret affair or whatever this is… God, it’s awkward listening to you two!” Hoseok said on the other line.

You chuckled. “Can we have this off-record? Anyway, he’s right Captain. Time’s running. You need to get to your sit there now, as Mr. Kim the representative of Fiery Brothel of Songpa-gu District. I’ll stay here, make sure everything is working according to plan, alright?” you pat his collar and checked his ear piece if it was greatly secured. “All dashing and ready!” you smiled at him.

Namjoon introduced himself as Mr. Kim to a man in red suit “I speak on behalf of my superior Mr. Co, who manages Fiery Brothel in Songpa-gu owned by the Jeon” The man in red suit just nod and led you inside the building.

At first, Namjoon was confused as to why he was led inside a burger chain. Then he turned to the left hallway and entered inside the “authorized personnel staff room”, Namjoon followed. The room was cramped and filled with cleaning tools, food and personal hygiene products and other things.

The man pulled out the fire extinguisher from the glass box, where he found a button hidden behind it. He suddenly pressed it twice, paused then thrice, paused then once. It was a secret code. The wall started to separate from top to bottom, unfurling another secret entryway that leads to a speakeasy bar-cum-opium den.

Namjoon quickly recognized few faces around, from the head of the other government department, to local celebrities, even the sons and daughter of influential businessmen were there. Gambling, out of wits, high from the aroma of opium mixed with other things.

They continued to walk, the man in red suit clearly unbothered, as if it was regular business. Namjoon gulped and tried to calm himself, putting a mental note on everything he saw and commit it to his memory. He’ll be needing it once he get his hands on Jungkook. Everything he sees right now, everything he owns, he wanted to see him lose it. He wanted his downfall. he was confident that after that night he’ll finally put everything to its end.

“This is as far as I can lead you sir” the man stopped in front of the door, bowed and opened it for Namjoon.

There it was the high table. Only 6 men, sitting on each side of the table, making him the last and the seventh member to the meeting. His heart was pounding fast, hands starting to grow cold, shaking uncontrollably. Little sweat beads were forming behind his neck, it’s as if he was drugged and out of wits as well, except his feeling was driven by his own fear.

Just a few second upon entering, he saw Taehyung and Jimin enter first from the front door of the room. He presumed it was an exclusive entryway for Jungkook and his trusted men, in case something bad happens, but nothing bad ever happened when they’re there. Taehyung and Jimin were his only trusted men. They were skilled, precise, ruthless and cold to the core. They would blindly kill anyone and even everyone for Jungkook, even if it cost their lives.

Jimin, narrowed his eyes towards Namjoon while he chew on his bubblegum. Taehyung, on the other hand, watched the other men shake in fear too. All were waiting for the boss himself to enter the room.

The room was white and bare, almost blinding to the eyes. The only color that was present are their ashen faces (except Taehyung and Jimin), their black clothes and the long dark-red oaken wood table and its matching chair. And finally, he was there, all in flesh.

No longer a picture posted on his office walls. No longer a dream, that woke up him up each night in fright. This was Jeon Jungkook.  Young, tall, handsome, almost perfect that he can pass up as a god. Well, technically, he is, because he is the kind who plays like one. Because any mistake they omit in his presence can swiftly translate to a painful death.

Everyone rose from their seat to show their respect and fear towards him. Jungkook smiled. Too kind and too sweet, as if he looked innocent. But everyone knew better, he wasn’t the slightest bit of it. When he sat from his chair on the front, everyone followed, except Jimin and Taehyung who stood there to watch over.

Jungkook listened to each person during the meeting, he was attentive, alert and smart. He was the kind of leader that would bring shame to the whole police department, perhaps the whole country. Everything that runs out of his mouth were well-thought, intelligible and thorough. He didn’t leave a single issue unresolved, and the men quickly took note of it. The men were so scared that they just nodded without any further question. Jungkook like things brief, and hated being interrupted. The moment he finds someone that annoys him, Taehyung, a sharp shooter, will place a single bullet straight through their head. Not even letting them finish their first word.

“Actually, I’m sure you are all aware of the situation you are in right now, don’t you? I called everyone for a meeting because some of you are doing a very, very poor job” he grinned at everybody, nose a bit scrunched, like a harmlessly little bunny pouncing sunshine on each person on the table. Yet everyone looked down, nervous and grim. So did Namjoon.

Namjoon wasn’t aware of it. Neither anyone on the team. What was Jungkook thinking? Did he knew? Did Seokjin informed him that they’ll be attempting to take him in? Sh--

“Shit!” one of them men screamed in fear as he tried to ran towards the door, but before he could take another step from his sit, Jimin managed to throw his dagger in his head which passed through his eye and pinned his body down the floor.

“Tsk” Jungkook shook his head in disappointment. “Atleast, we were able to eliminate a coward in this group. Anyone wants to follow?” he raised his eyebrow as he chuckled again. Clearly entertained at the sight of blood.

No one dared to speak, not even a sound of whimper. “Very well, now that no one wants to speak for themselves, I would, for everyone’s behalf. I need to keep my business flowing, and you all are doing a terrible job. Thus, it’s unfortunate to inform everyone in this room that no one will survive today…” Right upon hearing it, Taehyung fired his gun towards 3 other men on his side and Jimin with his daggers flying and pinning the remaining 2 heads to the wall on his side, simultaneously and precise. “Except you, Kim Namjoon.” He blinks slowly and smiled at his direction.

“How does it feel to finally meet your nightmare?” he stood up and went to his direction.

Suddenly, Namjoon heard Hoseok cursing on the other end “Namjoon, it’s a trap! They knew! If you’re still there, run! Quickly! The mole told everything about us!”

“Where’s Y/N?” Namjoon asked Hoseok, but you only heard noises from his end.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asked. “You know I don’t like it when I don’t have someone’s full attention”

“Where is she? My partner! Did you take her? Did you kill her?” Namjoon immediately stood up from his seat, demanding Jungkook for an answer. Jimin swiftly threw his dagger to pin Namjoon’s legs back to his seat while Namjoon cried in shock and pain .

“You know I wouldn’t dare you pissing Jimin any longer Namjoon, unlike Taehyung he doesn’t have much patience. If you try to move again, I swear the next time will be a bullet from Taehyung’s gun and it’s far more painful than Jimin’s knife… and I can’t assure you where he wants to aim it. Sit” he spoke calmly, and strangely alluring yet intimidating.

Hoseok spoke again “The mole is here! Seokji----- scchhhht” Taehyung went to Namjoon side and pulled the ear piece away from him, threw it on the floor and stepped on it.

“Where is she?!” Namjoon demanded, eyes intensely fixated on Jungkook.

Taehyung crouched down and slapped his mouth. “You’re not asked to speak” he took the broken ear piece from the floor and pushed it inside Namjoon’s mouth “You better listen!”

Namjoon gagged a bit and spit the shattered pieces “Enough Taehyung, I bet he’s got it” Jungkook commanded.

“You and Seokjin will pay for what you did to Y/N!” he screamed, his fear already absent upon realizing the possibility of losing you for good.

“Seokjin? Who is he?” Jungkook chuckled. “While, it’s true there’s a mole within you” he sat on the table, just inches away Namjoon. “It’s not Seokjin, whoever he may be, I never met the guy. He sounded like a nice guy” he shrugs, still smiling. “Give you a clue, try to think who is out of reach right now?” he taps his temple.

Namjoon paused. When he realized who it was, his blood rushed up to his head, leaving him cold, nauseated and in pain. “No, it can’t be”

There you were, entering the room from the door in front of everyone inside. Safe and unharmed “Hey love, I miss you so much!” you quickly ran towards Jungkook and jumped to give him a long pressing kiss.

“No… but why?” Namjoon’s eyes started to cloud with his own tears.

“Love, why don’t you tell him?” Jungkook pouted as he turned to face you, and pulled you in closer, letting you sit on his lap.

“Well, I got bored here. I decided I want to play police. That’s why I’m here, but I got bored too, so I decided to come back” you smiled at Namjoon then at Jungkook “to you, love”

Jungkook chuckled, his nose scrunched again in a bunny like manner, as he point his finger against your nose and tapped it “That’s my girl, isn’t she cute when she gets bored?” he asked Namjoon.

“But everything, what we’ve been through, were they all lies?”

You shook your head still smiling “Not everything, no. Well, except everything about Seokjin, and the brothel and Mr.Co…” you rolled your eyes, sluggishly “Didn’t I tell you I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan? I mean, my plan that is…” you shrugged.

“How?” Namjoon’s head fell to his chest, clearly desperate, praying that everything he was hearing from you weren’t true.

“Well for starters, it’s really not hard to fake documents, my background then my history… You’ve seen the opium den earlier didn’t you? The head of National Office Record is pretty much a regular these days, we just gave him a little freebies and then we’re good. But you sir, you were pretty interesting, I really had a great time!” you nodded.

“It was actually me who subtly planted the idea that it was Seokjin, it was me who gave Seokjin information, the exact location and a glimpse of our plan, well without telling him I am part of the group that is” you playfully traced your finger on Jungkook’s neck, letting Namjoon watch while he aches at everything. The reality that was unfolding before him.

“I was the one who curated random stuff as your evidence, made up stories about a non-existent Mr. Co and the Fiery Brothel in Songpa-gu, reserved a seat for you in the meeting and voila!  You’re here! Isn’t great, love?” you gave Jungkook a peck on his lips and he nodded.

“Y/N” Namjoon cried

“You know Namjoon? I really like you, that’s pretty much true. But this man right here” you turn to Jungkook and playfully squeezed his cheek “I love him so much, I’m willing to give my life for him. That’s the difference. To be by your side, quite literally and to be by his side, forever, wherever I may be” Jungkook giggled at your declaration for his love.

“Please say it’s a lie! Tell me, you’re being forced by him, just say it. Please, I love you!” Namjoon screamed

“Stop, Namjoon” you watched him in pity. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re just bunch of colleagues…”

“Boss, what are you going to do with him?” Jimin’s eyes remained focused against Namjoon while he pops his gum.

“Love, what do you plan?” Jungkook gazed at you lovingly, while he was fixing your hair.

“He’s where he is supposed to be. A captain who just lost the trust of his superior and his men, just because of a woman. Isn’t it a tragic story, the story of a naïve pawn? This way love, you’ll be able to move freely with your business.” You stared at Jungkook’s lips, resisting to kiss him while he revel at your impregnable intellect.

“As usual, impressive as always” Jungkook nods as he kissed you again. “Let him live, so he’ll be able to tell our tale, a precautionary one to not screw with us”

“Y/N” Namjoon pleaded.

“Namjoon, you were the best Captain really. Thank you for the memories” you smiled.

Then Taehyung swiftly hit Namjoon in the face, leaving him unconscious, but only for a while.

Namjoon blinked at the sensation of rain drop falling over his face. Next thing he knew, people in scrubs were rushing towards him, raised him up from the pavement outside the hospital and secured his tired body on a stretcher.

“Sir, are you okay? Do you know where you are? Do you remember who left you here?” Namjoon was so oblivious at the moment, that he just tried to pull himself up to see if everything that happened earlier was a dream.

Until something fell from the inside of his coat. He picked it up “The Art of War by Sun Tzu?” he opened a page and saw a little note from you that says

“An enemy of my enemy is my FRIEND :) - Y/N”

Even when this rain stops, when the clouds go away I stand here, just the same Without saying anything, looking at the world There, a not so beautiful me is looking at myself In this rain In this rain

Rain by BTS

A/N: Thank you for giving time and reaching this far. This is my first attempt in making a smut fic so please be kind >.< This fic is actually my birthday gift for Slyn (SLL-AW Fictions) she’s a writer from YT who pushed me to try doing one too. Her bias is Jungkook so, naturally, the story ended with Y/N falling in the arms of Jungkook.

This is also nod and an attempt to honor one of my all time favorite fanfic, the BEST EVER CREATED on the internet about BTS: “House of Card by Sugamins” (if you know, you know 😉 )

I am so whipped for Master Jeon Jungkook that I just 👁️👄👁️. I didn’t want to recreate the verse, because I just can’t... I could never. House of Card is like a whole level of superiority and I’m just...a nursery...

Although, I borrowed the dark environment and the emotions involved in the characters... but I am totally disclaiming it to be a part of the verse. I’m a huge fan, I’m sorry I’m geeking out 😭 (Sugamins if you ever see this, I love you and thank you!! 😭 huge fan!!)

Slyn’s favorite genre are mafia, action, and romance (specifically with Jungkook). She’s aware of House of Cards too so yeah..

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed “In The Rain” :).

PS.  If you haven’t read “House of Card” please do! It’s on a03! Google it! BUT YOU HAVE TO BE 18 and above... and open to like practically everything! Read the warning signs first before you proceed. But I swear, it’s the best out there!!! (you’ll know why it hit a million views once you finished. That fic should be in a book, and I’ll gladly buy several copies!

ALSO, I’m so sorry for making Y/N a villain/psychopath. As well as Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung. Forgive me. It was raining hard one day while listening to Rain on by BTS and the ending scene just came up to my mind and I happen to work on it since... :<

[mostlycompetentwriter]

“Small Things”- A Phobia Sequel

F/M Pairing: OC x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence, mature content

Genre: Mafia AU

Summary: The birth of his first child puts a lot of things in perspective for Chan, and he’s determined to do everything in his power to keep his family safe.

There were a lot of things in Chan’s life that he could’ve never predicted. For example, when he was just ten-years-old, he met two younger classmates in Mrs. Park’s fifth grade group who he never imagined would become his most reliable confidants. But hindsight was 20/20, and Han Jisung used to be a mess of small limbs and puffy cheeks who had an uncanny knack for sweet-talking the assistant teachers into allowing him an extra portion of chocolate. Meanwhile, quiet and leering Seo Changbin was the shortest kid in class, but it certainly never made him appear any less intimidating. Together, the three of them were a formidable force, and they found it very difficult to stay apart. Yet, Chan’s only regret when it came to his friendships was the harsh and demanding mafia world that he had brought them into as business partners.

Likewise, when Chan met his future wife for the very first time, she was nothing more than the daughter of the man who had murdered his parents and threatened to harm his friends. It was surely enough justification to convince Chan that he should stay away from anyone associated with that vile and horrible man who he was forced to serve. But his daughter was nothing like her father - and Chan was always the type to observe people from a distance and learn as much about them as he could. He listened with patience, and he was quick at sorting his enemies from his allies.

It wasn’t long before Chan found himself completely enamored with the daughter of the man he hated the most - and Chan was determined that she should never have to suffer anymore. In fact, it only took one stupid decision from her father before Chan was leading her as far away from that horrible life as possible. They settled down together, and Chan started to build his own reputation in a competitive world where survival of the fittest was taken quite literally.

Consequently, Chan learned to keep his wife near him at all costs, and she was never in the direct line of fire. Chan only brought her along when he knew that there would be no danger to her well-being, but even that eventually had to stop with the unanticipated surprise of her pregnancy. Thereafter, Chan worked tirelessly to ensure that his future child would have a good life, and he was determined to keep his personal life completely separate from his business affairs.

But after so many close-calls with rivals and partners alike, Chan decided to take a huge step down from his role as the prime authority figure in their organization. Jisung and Changbin were more than willing to fill his shoes because that’s the kind of the friends that they were - perhaps even more like brothers at the core. In any case, Chan’s role became minimal, and he wanted to be there for every step of his child’s life - even if that meant giving up what he had once prioritized and considered most important.

But life had a way of constantly changing - and Chan’s priorities shifted as well. Gone were the days of late-night stakeouts and meetings with buff and angry drug dealers who always wanted more than what they were worth. Instead, Chan traded most of his responsibilities for the simple pleasure of waking up next to his wife with their daughter sleeping in the middle of the bed.

It always brought a smile to Chan’s face: to simply glance over and see the tiniest and most innocent face in the entire world looking back at him with wide eyes that promised an unequivocal love. For his entire life, Chan had always fought for what he wanted, and he used his fists and cunning tongue to help him in most situations. Yet, when it came to his wife and daughter, everything was so much easier - there wasn’t any stress to burden his shoulders, and he never felt the need to constantly survey his surroundings for any sign of trouble.

None of that was necessary anymore, and Chan was beyond grateful for the inclusion of his own little family to cherish. Some might say that his world got a lot smaller, but Chan didn’t quite see it that way. His leadership of a mafia organization meant danger and deception around every corner, but being a husband and a father promised a future full of happiness as opposed to the constant risk of death and destruction.

It was a massive upgrade in his opinion, and Chan widened his eyes when he saw his daughter start to squirm around on the bed as if in discomfort. But Chan’s fatherly instincts were surprisingly natural, and he carefully collected his little girl into his arms for the short expedition to the bathroom. Chan gently laid her down on the changing table - starting the process of providing a fresh diaper while his daughter studied him with big, brown eyes that looked a lot like his own.

“There you go,” Chan said, smiling down at the joyful bundle who allowed a series of incoherent gurgles to escape.

It was at that moment that Chan’s phone chose to go off, and he sighed because he knew that it meant he was needed elsewhere. But he allowed the call to go to his voicemail while he brought his daughter back to bed, brushing a kiss across his wife’s forehead as he watched them both journey back to sleep.

In the meantime, Chan walked downstairs to stand on the outdoor patio, choosing a more private area to return Jisung’s phone call. It only rang twice before his familiar voice was offering a greeting: “Chan, we’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Chan said, trying not to let his annoyance bleed through his tone as he allowed Jisung to explain the complicated meeting they were planning with one of the area’s biggest drug lords. Apparently, he wanted to meet with Chan directly, and Chan briefly wondered what could be so important than neither Jisung nor Changbin could satisfy this impossible man. “I’ll be there tonight,” Chan said, ending the call with an exaggerated groan of displeasure.

The club that had been chosen as their designated meeting place was one of the raunchiest in town. It made Chan uncomfortable to see the scantily-clad women waltzing around the joint, even if Changbin and Jisung were clearly enjoying themselves. “This is my type of place,” Jisung remarked, eyes shining with mischief while he plopped a blonde onto his lap. She was young and beautiful, and she certainly had no qualms about giving Jisung an impromptu handjob through the front of his skinny jeans. 

Meanwhile, Changbin hadn’t taken his hands away from the attractive brunette who had spent a good solid five minutes complimenting his biceps before Changbin was pulling her along to their designated table. His lips were glued to the side of her neck, and Chan was growing slightly annoyed with the sound of her pornographic moans as if Changbin was somehow capable of giving her an orgasm simply by painting her throat with love-bites. “Let’s be professional,” Chan said, even if he knew that it would be hard to convince his friends to turn their attention away from two very willing women.

It was actually a good tactic on the part of their host - a useful distraction to lower their guards. Too bad Chan had outgrown these tasteless maneuvers, and he could handle himself while his friends had a bit of fun with their women. Of course, the host himself was rather extravagant with introductions, and Chan rolled his eyes when a richly-dressed young man marched himself through the entrance with several women attached to his arms and a big, burly bodyguard trailing along behind him.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said upon his arrival to their table. “My name is Don, and it’s an honor to meet the infamous leader of the Miroh Organization.”

Chan forced a smile in return. “Likewise.”

“Well,” Don continued, taking a seat next to Chan. “I can see your men are taking full advantage of our offerings.”

Chan grimaced when he realized that Jisung and Changbin had yet to acknowledge the presence of their host. “I’m sure they’re very grateful.”

“But you don’t seem to be sharing their opinion,” Don remarked. “Are they not to your satisfaction?”

“I’m not interested,” Chan said, and it was hard to notice - the barely visible upturn to Don’s upper lip as if he wasn’t happy to hear Chan say that.

“I see,” Don said, glancing between the two girls standing at his shoulders. “I didn’t want to believe the rumors, but I guess they’re true.”

“Rumors?” Chan repeated with an admirable level of patience.

“About your wife and child,” Don said, and Chan felt a sickly shudder creep down his spine. Because nobody was supposed to know about his daughter. “What a great risk for you,” Don continued. “How can you even ensure their safety?”

“We’re here to negotiate a deal,” Chan said, and he noticed that both Changbin and Jisung had finally tuned in after hearing mention of his family.

“And I’m simply proposing a few useful bargaining chips,” Don said with a sardonic sneer. “Let me say this, Mr. Bang: your asking price is outrageous. We want $10,000, or else you might never see your family again.”

Chan felt the entire world come to a standstill at Don’s declaration - like a dark curtain had suddenly eclipsed all the light left to guide his path and there was nothing left. For his entire life, Chan had never really valued his life all that much; in fact, he didn’t fear death or the prospect of what came after this existence. But the idea of hearing his wife or daughter’s lives threatened? Well, Chan had never felt a comparable rage to the one suffocating his lungs and igniting a fierce passion deep down inside of him. “This is not good business, Don,” Chan managed through the haze of red. “You won’t see a single penny from my organization, and if I see you or any of the scum associated with your shady dealership again, then I won’t hesitate to put a bullet straight through your head.”

He exhaled slowly when he stood up from the table, feeling some satisfaction when Jisung and Changbin dismissed their playthings in return. Because their loyalty was far more profound, and they would always stand by his side. Then, he gave Don one last warning glare before he led his men out of that horrible place - with no intentions of ever coming back. 

Chan was still shaking from adrenaline when he walked into his bedroom later that evening, and there was a sense of relief when he saw his wife lounging on their shared bed with his daughter steadily falling asleep in her arms. It was everything that mattered the most to Chan, and he took a step into the quiet room while running a stiff hand through his messy hair. “Hey,” Chan whispered to catch his wife’s attention.

She smiled at him, and it was enough to clear the earlier tension that had rested heavy on his chest. “You were gone for a while,” she said.

Chan nodded, and he paused next to her bedside. “Can I hold her?”

His wife seemed to notice the latent fear and uncertainty in his tone. “Of course,” she said, and Chan brought the wriggling bundle closer to his chest, looking down at his daughter because there was an undeniable innocence reflected in her eyes that dispelled all the cruelty of the world that he was forced to endure during his meeting. “Did it not go well?” his wife asked, studying him with the same look that he had grown used to seeing - the one that told him she was not at all satisfied with whatever was happening.

“It...caught me off-guard,” he replied, reaching down to adjust the collar of his daughter’s shirt. 

“Do you need to talk about it?”

Chan shook his head. “I think it would upset you.”

His wife inhaled sharply. “That bad?”

“It’s nothing that I can’t handle,” Chan said, and he was fiercely determined as he lowered himself down to the bed. “I’ll always protect my family.”

It was a solemn promise that was often difficult to keep in his world, but he had never felt this much love for anyone else before. Yeah, the mafia world was full of constant danger and seemingly endless trials and tribulations, but Chan wouldn’t dare say that he preferred that world to the one he kept safely hidden away from harm. Because his wife and daughter? They were his greatest adventure - and he would do everything in his power to give them the best that life had to offer.

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 17

Prompt:  Prompt is kindly given (read: thrown in my face) by wonderful maladaptive-ninja-returns: ““Cosmic Love” by Florence & The Machines; if not Asgard then Rann of Kutch (at night because why the fuck not); and a cummerbund (like a thin studded strip around the waist, if that makes sense).” It makes sense. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing as usual, some violence, angst, restraining (not in the fun way), sarcastic undertones, public exposure, anger. A/N: This is the second to last chapter of this series. It’s been a pleasure to work with the awesome prompts I’ve gotten so I doubt it’ll be the last time I do something like this. If you liked it, then like, leave a comment and/or reblog <3

Lost and found

Loki is nervous and you can feel it with every fiber of your being. It isn’t like him. Restless? Sure. Agitated in any way that involved flexing his superiority somehow? Been there, done that. But nervous…now that’s different, and it makes the hairs stand on end while shadows morph into stuff of nightmares for nothing more than a second.

Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on knowing what was going on, but the curiosity had gotten the better of you the day you’d heard Clint insist that it wasn’t up to Loki to decide.

“Decide what?” you asked, walking into the room to find more than the two of them. All of the Avengers were there, and they were staring at you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Nothing to worry your head about, beloved.” Loki attempted to divert your attention by kissing you on the sweet spot below your ear, earning him an exasperated sigh from Stark.

“Oh no,” sarcasm dripped from every single one of Natasha’s words, “nothing except your expertise being needed, but Loki won’t share.”

Pulling back from your lover’s embrace, you looked from one to the other. “Mine?”

That’s how you’ve gotten involved in the work that you’d promised never to get into. Heroing. A little smile settles on your lips at how backwards everything has become. Dark marble under your feet sends the footsteps of you, Loki, and other tourists tumbling between the hard walls that only sparingly are adorned with paintings or tapestries of historical value. Still, if you bothered to look then this would be a treasure trove for your curious brain…but you are here for one thing.

“How can you smile?” Loki hisses as you both pause before a statue, pretending to admire the chiseled-off cock.

Shaking your head gently, you pull him down for a chaste kiss. “Is the lie too hard to sell, my dear? Silver Tongue, hmm?”

Winding him up like that probably isn’t a smart move, but you need to stay on top of things for this to work. The pen flits over the glossed map of the museum, jotting down positions of cameras, sensors, and ventilation shafts. The museum has been carefully selected to offer the right type of possible loot in combination with the strategic placement of the building to make it difficult to get away quickly which is actually something that keeps your nerves steady for once.

Several of the Avengers would be able to pull a heist off on their own, but none of them would work a case like you do and that’s the point. Without having seen your style, they can’t fake it. And it’s you that’s needed in order to set the trap for the unnamed villain that’s trying to get to Loki through you. Villain. It sounds like something from a 60’ies movie. Still, here you are, discreetly trying to get noticed by a veritable bad guy in the hopes that he’ll take the bait, show up for the “heist”, and as a result get himself caught in an ambush.

Glancing up at Loki, you feel better about the plan than he does. Don’t worry, babe, I got you to save me.

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

…   Loki’s PoV   …

Imbeciles! Had he not objected to the so-called plan? Had he not been clear what the risks were? And look at where that got us! Snarling at the biting wind, the god lets the engine of the motorbike rev as he regains balance after rounding the last corner on the way out of the city. He is vaguely aware of the squabble among the Avengers as they divide the forces between repairing the quint-jet and scouring the area for clues. Clay-brained mongrels.

Oh, they have told him to step down, to let them do the work the moment it was clear [Y/N] has been taken. Fearing that he may do something rash, Romanova has been tasked with keeping an eye on Loki…and she will for a bit longer until the distance between the Asgardian and the illusion of him becomes to great, causing the decoy to fade. The old resentment still lingers within him, making it impossible for the former enemy to trust the Midgardian heroes with something as important as retrieving [Y/N]. At least it is mutual.

Shifting the seiðr, Loki focuses on the only consistent trace from the not very safe safehouse.

I should never have left her alone. Admittedly, she had ordered him away, claiming she could not concentrate on the plan when he kept pacing back and forth, and because the four others were there, he had grudgingly accepted and wandered off to the market.

The trail he follows shimmers in the light from the setting sun. Flattened, sandy crusts with salty minerals that makes the Asgardian think of the icy expanses of his actual home world despite the heat radiating from the ground beneath the tires. Soon, the day will come to an end, leaving only the stars to illuminate the open desert.

Loki feels the change in his magic, warning him a second or two before Natasha’s voice cuts through the communications device. Curses, in Russian and a few other languages, make the earplug crackle.

“Reindeer Games,” Stark’s voice sounds flatly, “where y’off to?”

“If I had any intentions of sharing that knowledge with you then I would have told you before departing.”

The archer quips something about almost having the jet ready.

“Was that you? The jet?” Rogers asks.

There’s a soft chuckle from Natasha. “’Course not, Cap, otherwise Tony and Clint couldn’t fix it.”

“Thank you.” At least the wench understands and who would I be to deny it. “I shall inform you when [Y/N] is safe once more.”

“Loki…” Even through the device, it is clear that the Captain does not approve. “Don’t do anything…rash.”

“I would never…” he proclaims before tossing the communications device to the ground. Of course, that depends on what someone would consider rash.

Either way, the god is gaining on his target. All through his body, the adrenalin is surging with the thrill of the chase and the figuratively magnetic attraction of a very special woman. My queen.

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat I tried to find the sound

…   Reader’s PoV   …

You’re not entirely sure what you realise first. It might be how bad your head’s hurting…however, equally uncomfortable contestants are found in the numbing tightness around wrists and legs as well as the distinct roughness of something that’s been pulled over your head. At least the fabric isn’t very dense, so you can still breathe relatively freely. I can see through the mesh. The discovery itself is great…the view not so much because it’s very dark, leaving you mostly with the rumbling motion and an oily smell to go by. Car…van. Maybe the brain is trying to squeeze out through any orifice in your skull, at least it feels like it.

”I think she’s awake,” a surprisingly intonationless voice offers.

”We’re all-e-most there.” That voice is distinctly male and accented like an Italian.

Two guys. Twisting carefully, it’s not easy to get either within view, but you manage to locate the owner of the first in the shadow behind the driver’s seat (where the second must be). I can deal with that. The optimism doesn’t quite seep into you as much as you would’ve wanted, but you keep encouraging yourself as you roll about on the floor of the van until you’re in a position where you dare to test the restraints. Crap. It’s not just cheap tie rips, but proper rope.

”I wouldn’t do that, little lady,” the androgynous voice offers, ”we know our knots.”

It’s a gamble. ”Why tie me up at all? ’S not like I can do anything ’gainst two people.”

”Just a precauzion, you see.” It sounds like the driver’s smiling. ”Padrone ‘as…euh…demands!”

For several minutes, the only noise is the rumbling of the engine as you’re brought further and further from the people who should’ve protected you from this. At least the first part of the plan had been a success: getting spotted as you were ”planning the heist”. Admittedly, the next part had been to plan said fake heist in a way that allowed the Avengers to apprehend the wannabe kidnappers before they got to you.

Still, you don’t exactly feel scared but more a sort of…inconvenienced? Embarrassed? At the moment, you’re not really sure what it is because of the pain.

“Did you guys literally knock me out?” you groan.

“Sí,” is the answer from the driver.

“Boss’s order?” That would place one more on the list of who to bash around the head.

“Little lady’s got a point.”

“Mamma mia! Just ah …zitta and get ‘er ready!”

Someone grunts and then big hands grab you by the upper arms, hoisting you into a sitting position before getting to work. In the dim light of dashboard, you see a knife glistens on the other side of the canvas supposed to blind you. Oh, that sucks, you manage to think before the cold steel tears through the fabric of your shirt. Just the fabric. Shred by shred, the cotton-blend is removed, exposing your bra and the tiger’s eye pendant on the golden chain. Goosebumps have spread all over your body, and now the fear is there alright. On another occasion, you might consider how the pain apparently has disappeared from one second to the other, but all you do manage is to sit stock-still despite the rumbling of the van. Barely breathing and tense like a spring while waiting for the unavoidable doom – whatever it may be. Loki!

You don’t expect a flashlight and ruffling of paper nearby. Nor the cool touch of rich fabric carefully being wrapped around your chest. Only then are the bra straps snipped and gingerly tugged away under the new layer.

“Sorry ‘bout this, miss,” the surprisingly gentle kidnapper mumbles as he grabs your waist.

Cut by cut, the shorts go the same way as the t-shirt did earlier until you lie there on the hard floor with nothing by a minuscule g-string and ropes on your lower body. Even if the immobilizing fear isn’t gone, it’s being replaced by a burning sense of shame. This is not my doing. I have nothing to be ashamed of! The words echo like a near-forgotten mantra in your mind.

“I need to stand you up on your knees, little lady,” the handler explains.

He wouldn’t actually need your consent, it seems, because he’s perfectly capable of moving your around as if you were a doll. But he does it gently, and the careful manner is continued when something like a skirt is wrapped low around your hips. Soft, flowy material that tickles you thighs and calves, yet held in place by a broad strip of the same stuff that’s wrapped around your upper body (well, technically just enough to cover the boobs). There’s a shimmer of purple in the flashlight as your stylist inspects the result. A breathed “oh” precedes a metallic jingling, something cold touches your skin before settling on the broad top-hem-thingy of the skirt.

“All ready,” your fashionista slash abductor announces.

“Perfetto.”

Already, you can feel the van slowing down, so you’re ready for when the breaks are applied inconsiderably enough to bring the contents of the vehicle crashing. Landing awkwardly (and painfully) on the side with a jingle, you add to the tally of things to be pissed about.

…   Loki’s PoV   …

I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back

The cold light of the stars is cast back from the shimmering ground, making it easy for Loki to spot the structures as dark silhouettes against a world of silver. A couple of vehicles and several tents, most of which seem squalid in comparison to one. It’s the only one illuminated internally, adding circles in flowery patterns to bring colour back into the night. Orange hues come and go as the light source sways and people move to block the rays.

Undoubtedly, less dangerous men would abandon the noisy motorbike and cover the rest of the way on foot to ensure the element of surprise, but of course Loki does not need to bother with such details. Whoever is at this camp have made the mistake of angering a god and nothing can save them now.

Leaping of the machinery in the middle of the temporary village, the first guards (mercenaries, really) are already approaching with their weapons at the ready. None of them reach Loki, falling instead to the ground with knives buried in their chests.

“[Y/N]!” he yells, wanting to confirm his suspicion on where she is kept.

A half-choked yell. The sound of glass shattering. Then finally an answer, although it is from one of the supposed guards: as the only survivor within line of sight, a male abandons his weapon in favour of holding his hands above the head.

“She’s in there.” Nodding towards the large tent, a streak of grey mimics the shade of the vast landscape. “Alive and pissed, which is fair ‘cause kidnapping’s not okay even for me.”

Tilting his head minimally, Loki eyes the man. “You think your panic-laced words will save you?”

Clearly trying to find the right answer, the mercenary eventually gives up and shrugs instead. “I’s…kinda hopin’ that, yeah…got morals and shit, but I need the money and it’s hard to get out of this business.”

Honest, amusing…although still a sorry excuse for a Midgardian. “Go.”

There is no need for repeating the order, and the man hurries off, mumbling something under the breath about “why me” and “again”. It is of no relevance for Loki, however, who has turned his full attention onto the silent tent before him.

Without wasting another second, the god dashes through the lose-hanging flaps of the entrance. The knives in his hands look like fire solidified, deadly, ethereal, yet they never fly gracefully through the air as intended but fall to the canvas under his feet as he takes in the sight. Two figures splayed lifelessly on the ground with a third standing above them, the stance a fierce display of the person’s will to live and clashing perfectly with the delicate attire that barely covers the perfect body.

“About time,” [Y/N] announces drily as she straightens up, “even had to get my hands dirty.”

Glancing at the male figures on the ground, it is with a certain relief that Loki can see that they still are breathing. Would he mind that the love of his life had killed someone? No. But he would feel at fault that it had been necessary.

A flutter of purple and pink hues is all it takes for the god to be staring at the woman, appreciating the curves and show of skin displayed before him. A few steps, then she is in his arms and he gets to let his hands roam her shape under the pretence of ensuring she is unharmed.

By the time the examination clearly has a different purpose, [Y/N] slaps him away with a teasing growl. Their lips are swollen, and hair mussed from something else than the fighting. Loke is just about to come with a suggestion when the sound of a familiar jet-engine announces the arrival of Romanova, Stark, Rogers and Barton, effectively spoiling any fun that the couple could have had.

[hzcleski]

hello friends! you probs know who i am already but if not hello! i’m sam aaand this is my newish muse! i played hal here for a minute one time but i’ve decided to give him a huuuuge revamp so character info is under the cut! lmk if you wanna plot! messaging me @ellvie​ is probably easiest!

╰☆╮ DYLAN O'BRIEN ─ HAL ZALESKI identifies as CIS MALE and uses HE/HIM pronouns. they’re a FORMER OLYMPIAN/NHL PLAYER, and they’re only TWENTY THREE ! they’re said to be CAPABLE, but also TURBULENT. i guess that’s why they’re known as THE LEGACY in the tabloids.

quick disclaimer that this is a sideblog so i might post to the wrong account sometimes

other disclaimer a lot of my hockey information is from google ok

nathan harold zaleski jr was practically born with a pair of skates on, which makes sense considering his family is hockey royalty. his father is nathan harold zaleski sr, aka a legend and one of the biggest names in sports to this very day. olympic gold medalist several times over, beloved longtime defenseman for the toronto maple leafs, at the very peak of his career and married to a beautiful wealthy socialite when his only child was born.

listen...this is an au where the maple leafs are good or like, had one genuinely good star player in nathan sr. okay thanks for coming to my ted talk!

he’s got dual citizenship because he was born in canada even though he hasn’t lived there since he was ten, but his parents were us citizens, which doesn’t seem important but WAIT FOR IT

nathan jr, who would begin going by the nickname of hal early on in life, probably learned how to skate before he even learned how to walk because of course he did. his father’s intention was always to have another him. i mean for fuck’s sake they have the exact same name. hal’s purpose in life has never been in question, not by him or anyone who’s ever seen him play.

his natural talent for hockey became apparent from a very young age, which didn’t surprise anyone ofc. his father saw it as a sign and began pushing him even harder, hiring the very best trainers and coaches to help perfect his game while nathan sr focused on his own career.

except that he was running out of steam and fast. nothing happened like there was no huge scandal or career ending injury. nathan sr was just...getting old. fans were simply losing interest in him as newer and younger players joined the league and there was nothing he could really do about it except make sure his legacy lived on.

hal was ten years old when everything seemed to finally fall apart. his dad was hanging on to the very last threads of his career, let go from the maple leafs and almost certainly picked up by the new york rangers purely out of pity. meanwhile, hal’s parents finally divorced which he took almost alarmingly well for a ten year old, but it’s not like his parents were ever a shining example of a deep, loving marriage. they spent years settling the divorce, fighting back and forth while suing the shit out of each other across whole fuckin countries. lowkey they almost wound up being more famous for the legal drama than they were for hockey.

hal’s dad finally retired when he was twelve, won sole custody of him when he was fourteen, and pulled enough strings to get him a spot on the canadian hockey team dual citizenship! going to the 2010 vancouver winter olympics when he was just a teenager, making him one of the youngest players to ever compete in the games.

and canada won gold that year so hal was making history again in no time, being one of the youngest players to ever become a gold medalist in the winter olympics. now he didn’t actually see a lot of playing time that year. his skill was undeniable, but no one seemed to think that he was ready for the big time rush. tbh they probably weren’t wrong, but nevertheless his name and his win made an impression on everyone.

up until that point hal was homeschooled bc ofc education came second to hockey, but he always wanted to attend an actual school and he did! after his first olympics his dad finally sent him to the same private school in the city as all the other rich kids and it was...weird! he started in the middle of the year and was instantly an outsider among his classmates. everyone else had known each other all their lives so hal immediately at a disadvantage. it didn’t help that he’d never really...had a single friend before. tbh his peers were probably intimidated by him. he was just a high schooler and already an olympic gold medalist like...ofc no one wanted to be the person to go approach him and say hi.

played for canada again dual citizenship! at the 2014 winter olympics in sochi when he was eighteen and this time HE WAS THE STAR. absolutely at the top of his game. anyone who still thought that he was a joke before the games started shut up real quick when he won his second gold medal.

he got home and was eventually drafted into the nhl, so he sorta ditched school oops. technically he finished but like...barely since he went back to being tutored for the last few months.

several teams wanted him and tried to throw a shit ton of money at him, but hal settled on the new york rangers with a huge multi million dollar deal

he quickly stole hearts on and off the ice. whether fans admired his skill or followed him during the olympics or remembered his father, for one reason or another he was winning people over left and right. unsurprisingly he’d go on to win the 2014-2015 rookie of the year award, presented to him by the president of the nhl and everything.

he did not attend the 2018 winter olympics in pyeongchang as the nhl famously refused to release their players. hal himself was a major part of the uproar. the whole country of canada dual citizenship! practically threw a fucking fit bc the nhl was disqualifying their star player from winning them their third gold medal in a row and hey big surprise...canada didn’t win gold in 2018 :)

hal’s in the middle of his fifth i think? year of pro hockey rn and so far his career has been solid. his dad is really pushing him to sign with a “better team” and he has gotten offers, but he isn’t really interested. he likes playing for new york & he likes living in new york. maybe someday....maybeeee....but for right now he’s happy with where he is.

okay now for some fast facts!

literally always looks like he just got into a fight, probably bc he just did during his last game. is usually sporting some injury like a black eye or split lip or cut cheek. fortunately hasn’t completely given in to the hockey player stereotype by getting all of his fuckin teeth knocked out...yet

notice that i hardly mentioned his mom? that about sums up their relationship tbh. hal was practically raised by nannies and trainers. his mom always had some brunch or gala or public appearance she was far more invested in. literally she didn’t even really...want custody of him when she divorced his dad, but she claimed to just to be petty and give nathan sr an even more difficult time. yeah they kinda hate each other now and since hal has always been closer to his dad, his mom isn’t even really that interested in seeing him lmao. she’ll call like once a month and invites him to brunch if she happens to be in the city, but ngl hal probably hasn’t seen her in like...a couple years at the least. he’s not really broken up about it either.

right so...walking talking endless pit of daddy issues? you bet! just because hal prefers his dad doesn’t mean that they get along or that his dad is a good person. he still has his perfect public image and he isn’t complete garbage but...yeah their relationship is extremely toxic. he’s always been very harsh with hal, pushing him and pushing him to be the best bc nothing he accomplishes is ever good enough.

so what if he's won two olympic gold medals? so what if he was rookie of the year? so what if he’s considered one of the best and most beloved players in the nhl? he can do more, he can be even better. his dad is a constant voice in his head even though he’s always around anyway. he never misses a game or an opportunity to point out hal’s every flaw.

ofc as a result hal’s always been very hard on himself. every single day of his entire life has been spent basing his self worth off what his father thinks of him. it was awful for his self esteem bc no fucking duh.

HOWEVER. it isn’t public knowledge at this time, but as of right now? hal’s relationship with his father is falling apart faster and faster by the moment. they’re a ticking time bomb & it’s literally only a matter of time before they explode yikes!

fortunately hal could sorta sense the direction things were heading and did something about it. he finally moved out when the hockey season started back in october and he’s been feeling better ever since. like he has more control over his life even though his dad is still WAY too involved.

personality: a douchebag who means no harm, mostly because he's never really trying to be a jerk. tends to come across as a typical meathead jock for good reason bc that’s exactly who he is. in conversation he's usually very blunt and a little awkward bc he’s still learning how to socialize with others. hockey is basically his whole life so it’s all he knows how to talk about, which can either be endearing or annoying. a genius hockey player, but a ditz in every other area. very short - tempered and impulsive. always means well and wants the best for those he cares about, but might go about expressing those feelings in a weird way bc he was never taught how to properly deal with his emotions.

CONNECTIONS

family

step sibling he grew up with - sabrina miller

paternal cousins - warren daily and wren daily

cousin by marriage - rosalind cox

maternal cousin - open. his mom is polish for reference!

romantic

girlfriend - genesis iver

ex fiancée - ginny baker

ex on good terms - margo massey

ex who cheated on him - isla thompson

former fwb - amethyst armenta, open to more.

former toxic on / off relationship - reese monroe

exes, open to more.

hal has a ton of other exes and i don’t feel like listing them tbh all so i’m just gonna assume that y’all know who you are ok

platonic

best friend 5ever - marialena goldstein

confidant - open.

family friends - sullivan ramsey, open to more.

childhood friends - open to more.

close friends - open to more.

friends - mia kauri, chance kauri, theo cannon, angel almeida, open to more.

bickering friends - open to more.

workout buddy - open.

negative

on bad terms - kennedy drakos, jay weston, open to more.

these are just a few plot ideas! i’m most definitely open to other stuff so if you have any ideas please free to share! i think that’s enough from me soooo yeah! mssg me if you wanna plot & as always i’m super excited to write with everyone!

[wordsetchedinherskin]

JD Fanfiction: Season 9

Episode 2; Scene 1

(MOM?!)

I stare at JD, eyes wide while I try to think of something to say. My mouth feels thick like cotton as I swallow hard, trying to get the words out.

"Wait... Mom?! As in, Ms. Davies? As in, the person who literally brought me back from the dead!?" The words don't even sound real as they escape my mouth. JD just nods. Their skin growing paler by the moment. I take a deep breath trying to center myself. I slowly turn to the ethereal woman. Her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles at me.

"Hello Theo" She steps foward and I see where JD gets their gratefulness from. Her body seems to float, even without the wings. "It certainly is nice to meet the woman who saved Jordan's life. And under better circumstances this time" She takes my hands and squeezes them reassuringly. Her skin is warm, and immediately makes me feel safe. I smile back, wanting so badly to hug her. So I do.

"Ms. Davies.. er.. ma'am.. er.. JD's Mom..." she cuts off my stammering with a wave of her hand. I'm trying my best not to blush, but the similarities between her and Jordan are so striking that it starts to spread across my entire face.

"Please, call me Dorothea." She smiles again and I can feel my knees start to go weak.

"Ok" I croak out, trying to swallow and find my nerve. "Dorothea..." She smiles even wider at this and I grab onto Jordan's arm, which is now soaked in sweat. This finally breaks me from my stupor, and I turn to face them.

(Right. Enough oggling, Theo. Jordan needs you.)

"JD? Babe? You ok? Do you need to sit down?" It takes them a minute to register my words before slowing nodding and slumping down to the wet grass. I take a seat next to them, rubbing small circles on their back. After a few moments their breath finally starts to return to normal. Their usual tan skin getting back some of it's natural color. They look at me, and the look in their eyes makes my heart lurch. They look so small, and so sad.

Dorothea stands tall and regal in the sun. Giving her child all the time they need to gain their composure. Her eyes growing sad as she looks at them.

(She wants so badly to hold and comfort them)

Finally JD tries to stand again. They wobble at first, but slowly find their footing. Straightening their shoulders, they close their eyes and take a long, deep breath.

(They're trying so hard to come to terms with this. I can't imagine what it's like to have your Mom show up after roughly 300 years)

When they speak they're voice comes out so small, it's barely audible.

"M-mom? W-what.. what are you doing here?" The look of guilt and shame that fills JD's eyes are enough to break anyone's heart. They've never had any closure over how them being the Jersey Devil effected their Mom's life. "I'm s-so.. so sorry"

Dorothea smiles and cups JD's face in her hands. A single tear falls down their face at her touch.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet Jordan." She tips their face up, moving a few hairs out of their eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You must not feel anymore guilt over what your father made of you. You have become more than other Mother could ever hope for."

As soon as the words are spoken, JD falls into her arms. Sobbing like a small child. She whispers soft "shhhh's" into their ear as she comforts them.

(Oh, Jordan.. )

The rest of us stand around the waters edge, trying to give JD and Dorothea all the time they need. After several minutes, JD's tears finally begin to taper off. When they pull away, they look as though the entire world has been lifted from their shoulders. Dorothea smiles warmly as JD wipes their face with the back of their hand.

I walk over and take Jordan's hand, giving them the most comforting smile I can muster. I want so badly to hug them, but I know after what just happened, they're probably emotionally exhausted. They smile at me, and wink. Trying to reassure me that they're ok.

(I got you, babe. I always got you)

The rest of Havenfall's Finest walk over to join us, wrapping us in a massive group hug. JD laughs, and makes a weird hand movement.

"Woah, woah.. hands off the merchandise!" JD laughs, giving everyone a smirk. Razi beams at us, while Mackenzi just shakes her head. I chuckle and look at Diego, who can't seem to take his eyes off Dorothea. She's standing there, watching us with strong admiration.

"I am so glad Jordan has such wonderful people in their life, who love them so deeply." Her voice is soft and brings a slight blush to everyone's face.

(I could seriously drown in that voice)

After a few moments, JD shakes everyone off of us, and clears their throat. Doing their best to regain their cool and aloof composure. They slide their hands down their body, and pull their jacket back into its proper place. When they catch me staring, they give me a wink.

(Oh, lord. Yep. Still way too gay for this)

"So.. Mom.. " they stop on the word 'mom' like it's best word they've ever gotten to say. I smile, my heart so incredibly full and happy for them. "As much as I love to see you, I'm sure there's an important reason you needed us to summon you?"

(Oh, right. That)

Dorothea's smile falters for the first time since she arrived. She bites her bottom lip, looking so remarkably like Jordan that I smile. She takes a deep breath and speaks in a slow, level tone.

(Oh fuck. What now?)

"I wish I could say that I just missed you, and wanted to see your face.. which of course, is true." She smiles, grabbing JD and I's hands. "But unfortunately, we have a bit of a problem that only you, and Theo, together, can take care of."

I give JD a sideways glance, trying to gauge what their feeling. But their eyes haven't left their Mother's face since she started talking.

"It's your Father, Jordan." As she says the words, I feel JD grimace.

(Of course it fucking is)

She pauses before continuing.

"It's come to our attention that Lucifer is planning something absolutely heinous, and from the information we have, he plans on taking as many human lives as he can to do it." Dorothea's words cut through the air like ice. No one moves, all of the air seeming to leave the area.

"Well, fuck." JD spits out the words like venom. Their eyes burning with rage. "Can't he go longer than a couple of decades without being the absolute worst Father in the fucking universe!?"

Dorothea moves closer, enveloping us in her calming energy.

"I'm so sorry, Jordan." Her eyes drop as she speaks. "I wish for anything that anyone else could help with this. If it were up to me, you'd never have to see your Father again. But from the prophecies we've read regarding this specific event, you and Theo are the only ones who can stop it."

JD closes their eyes, doing everything in their power not to burn down the world where they stand. I take their free hand, reminding them that I'm there. They release a staggered breath at my touch and straightens their shoulders. They turn and give me a confident, wide grin.

"Alright, then." They exclaim, clapping loudly for dramatic flair. " Let's take this Mother Fucker down. Once and for all."

(Fuck. Yes. Count me in!)