#i hope you’re all unemployed tomorrow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

Crushed 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: it's hump day, let's get humped.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

Jonathan doesn’t drive you back to your building. Instead, you walk with him through the halls to his condo. You stop outside the door as he slips the bags up to his wrist and unlocks the door. He holds it open and waves you inside.

You enter, rubbing your arm nervously. It’s been a long day. A long few days. You’re exhausted. You catch a yawn in your hand as you hug yourself with one arm and peer around.

“I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow. Can’t be avoided much longer,” he explains as he puts the bags on the side table, “you will stay here. To be safe.”

“Oh, uh, right,” you sway back and forth as you press your palm to the side of your neck, “um, I don’t mind--”

“I mind,” he interjects, “I can’t trust that animal not to act as what he is. Darling, you must think, yes? Learn from your mistakes. We both know he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t put you in such danger and I would hope you wouldn’t walk right into it.”

“I know, I wasn’t... I just... I wouldn’t want to impose,” your eyes drift away meekly, “that’s all.”

“Impose? Have I not made my feelings clear?” He approaches you, brushing his knuckles up your arm, “I cannot get enough of you, fawn.”

You smile but it’s hard. You feel weak. The day is only half done and you could keel over. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek, “what is it?”

“Just tired,” you shrug.

“Mmm, how about... I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You can relax. We’ve done rather much today... you have been through even more,” he gives a doleful look, “you let me worry for everything. All will turn out, I’m certain.”

“I guess,” you purse your lips. It’s easy enough for him to say. He still has a job, you’re not so sure you do.

“Darling,” he brings a bent finger under your chin, tiling your head, “I will take care of you.”

Your lips part but you quickly close them. You don’t want to argue right now. You don’t want to point out that everything is still fresh and new. Or that he might not feel the same in a month or two. Or a year. Especially if you’re unemployed.

One day he’ll see how worthless you are.

“So let’s get that bath going,” he bends to kiss your forehead, “I’ve some bath salts which may help ease the tension. I’ll light a few candles...” he rambles as he turns and strides down the hallway. You follow after him reluctantly, as much as the bath sounds nice, you already feel like a burden.

You stand in the doorway as you watch him remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He fusses over the tub as of you’re not there. The water spills out into the deep porcelain basin and he stands. He turns and gestures to a towel on a silver bar.

“That is clean,” he says before he opens the tall cupboard near the sink, “bath salt... rose.”

He reads the canister before he uncaps it. He turns to add a sprinkle to the water, the floral aroma rising with the steam. He sets it aside and beckons you into the bathroom. You cross the tile as you play with the hem of your shirt.

He brushes past you and you turn to watch him go. You face the tub again and pull up your shirt. You let your pants slip down your legs and as you straighten, you hear him return. He places a three-wick candle on the ledge above the tub and lights it.

He looks at you, his eyes roving up and down, and he smirks, “I’m almost tempted to join you, darling, but alas, I do have a few things to tend to.”

“That’s... okay,” you murmur, hugging yourself as you stand in panty and bra.

He scoffs, “why are you playing shy, eh?” He nears and tickles along your collar bone, sending a shiver through you.

“I’m not, I’m... cold,” you lie and turn your attention to the tub.

“Mm, if you need any help warming up,” his fingers flutter up your neck before he retracts his touch, “should you need me, you need only call my name, fawn.”

“Alright,” you eke out.

You wait until he’s past you but don’t check to see if he’s gone. You strip down the rest of your clothes and near the tub. You lift your legs over the edge and sink into the water. You sigh as the warmth seeps into you.

You close your eyes as the water continues to lap down by your feet. You try to let the tension out. You’re thinking too much.

💔

You button up the shirt Jonathan left for you. You still feel uneasy as you slip into bed but you’re too tired to care. You might be invading his space but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Besides, the hot water has finished you off. You just want to sleep forever.

Your eyes roll back and you hide from the world. It doesn’t quite fade away, still vaguely present on the other side of your eyelids. That hazy itchiness settles in your head but the fog just won’t thicken to darkness. You’re awake, barely, kept conscious by the nerves rattling in your chest.

In your stupour, you remain vaguely aware of your unusual surroundings. Despite the threat that lingers on the other side of the walls, you can’t help but miss your apartment. It’s the first space that was truly your own. All that’s ruined.

You hear a dulcet tone, a low hum that’s soothing a much as it is stirring. You roll onto your side and grumble, peeling open your eyes as your ears prick. Jonathan’s voice precedes him into the room. You blink at him from the bed, curled up under the blankets as your warmth keeps you in place.

“Yes, I will have her there, never you worry,” he says breezily, “mm, yes, I’ve the time. I’ll add it to my calendar. Shouldn’t be any issue.” As you watch him, he meets your gaze and his brows flick up as he grins, “thanks, Eugenia, can’t wait. Yes, you have a wonderful night.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and you recognise the case and the cracked protector. It’s yours. What the heck? You sit up and reach instinctively for him.

“Hey, that’s my phone,” you accuse.

“Yes, it was ringing and I thought you asleep. It was only your mother,” he drops the phone on the bed next to you. “I could hardly answer between messages from that pest you call a neighbour.”

“What?” You grasp the cell and slide it closer.

“She only wanted to confirm the time for the engagement party next weekend. You can wear one of your new dresses,” he explains as he goes to the wall mirror and checks his reflection, smoothing his hair before he unbuttons his collar. He works a path down the row and the fabric slackens around his shoulders. “I’ve made certain to make record of each message that creature sends. We may just need to consult authorities.”

“Colin? I—I blocked him.”

“Please do not say his name. It’s absolutely hideous, isn’t it?” He faces you as he shrugs off his shirt. “It seems he has found an alternative, that chit he keeps around.”

“Ally?” You wonder.

“Mmm, is that her name,” he drones as he dumps his shirt into the hamper. “Well, we needn’t worry about them much longer.”

He continues to undress as you pull yourself up against the pillows. Things just keep happening and you can’t keep up. You look up as he wears nothing but his short cotton boxers and nears the bed. You peek down at your phone and put it on the night table to right of the bed.

“I do think you should call your landlord and give notice sooner than later,” he climbs onto the foot of the bed.

“Notice?” You echo in confusion, “why--”

“You cannot go back, darling, it’s not safe,” he tugs at the blanket, pulling it away from your body, “I cannot in good conscience let you return.”

“But I—we can just let things mellow out, right? Colin will get over it--”

“I told you,” he grabs your ankle, “do not utter his name at me.”

He pulls you so you fall flat on your back. You throw your arms out and gasp as your head bounces onto the mattress. He separates your legs and perches between them. You lift yourself on your elbows, breathless, and stare at him.

“I can’t stay forever--”

“Did I ever say that?” He challenges, his blue eyes blazing up at you.

“No, but--”

“I understand things have escalated quickly, fawn, but we will figure it all out. I will be certain to clarify everything at the office, let them know it was simply not your doing,” his eyes cling to your face and narrow before slowly descending.

He glides his hands up your legs, crawling closer on his knees. He slides his touch beneath the loose shirt and tickles your naked skin. He sends a chill through you that speckles hotly. He feels your body, running his hands up and your torso as you quiver.

He slips his hands above the fabric as he kneels between your thighs. He unbuttons the shirt to your belly button, unveiling your chest and bending to dote on it. He cups one side as his mouth explores the other; nipping and nuzzle. You let out a pathetic noise as you cradle the back of his head.

You arch your back as his warmth draws you in and chases away your doubts. His long fingers soothe you and his intensity overpowers you. As much as this man has you uncertain, you cannot resist him. It feels nice to be wanted even if it isn’t who you wanted.

💔

Once more, you fall asleep in the afterglow of Jonathan’s attentions. How easily he can obfuscate your fears and doubts. How his touch can so easily distract you from the things that might keep you awake.

The weight of his arm settles over you, holding you to him, his hard long body coiled around yours. He keeps a leg curled between yours as his hot breath seeps into your scalp. You’re content, you’re safe.

Your sleep is only disturbed as he untangles himself carefully from you. You don’t rouse entirely, clinging to the pillow and dregs of fatigue. He tucks the blanket under your figure and the bed shifts with the absences of his weight. His scent lingers behind him.

You sink back down and fall flat on your back, spreading out across the mattress. The late night lull settles over you, lulling you down as the distant drone of Jonathan’s lilted voice further coaxes you. You moan through your slumber and roll onto his side, longing for him to return.

You blink and the blue digits of the clock have changed. Twenty minutes and he’s still not back. You shiver and flutter your eyelashes, rubbing your cheeks as you force yourself awake. You sit up dizzily, you can still hear him.

You shimmy to the edge of the bed and stand. You hug yourself as a shiver washes over your naked flesh. The button-up is lost somewhere in the bedding. You put your feet down softly as you pad across the room, following his timbre as it come between sharper tones.

You creep out into the hall, a bluish glow drawing you in. You follow the cool hardwood to the front room and hide in the dim as you squint. Jonathan has his phone in hand, the screen alight as his profile is limned in its shine. He watches it intently as you recognise the voice chirping from the speaker.

“That’s so lovely, dear, hope we can see you soon,” his mother chimes.

You waver on your feet. Oh, you shouldn’t listen.

“Will she be coming?” His father’s gristly accent comes through.

You pause before you can back up. Jonathan clicks his tongue, “yes, I think so.”

“Jon,” his mother titters, “oh, that’s so exciting! That’s... big.”

“Eh, yes, don’t think you ever let us meet one of the birds,” he father chides.

“Father, she’s not... don’t call her that,” Jonathan rebukes.

“I’m teasing, yeah?” The elder Pine chortles, “you’re gonna have to warn her about us. If that place has made you so soft, I shouldn’t want to scare the girl.”

“Father,” Jonathan utters once more, “she’s... not... She’s perfect.”

His mom squeals and giggles. You gulp and press yourself against the wall. What is he talking about? He’s talking about taking you somewhere. To his home? That’s a far way. Something he should probably ask you first. His mother is entirely correct; that’s big. His compliments cannot counteract the shock of his one-sided decision.

You sidle along the hallway, careful not to place your feet too heavily. As you near the bedroom, your elbow hits the frame and the thump casts silence through the apartment. Shoot.

You peer toward the front room and see Jonathan’s shadow closing in. He must have heard your misstep. You quickly flit into the room and ease into the bed. You pull the blankets over you and turn your back to the door. Your heart is racing.

You sense him in the doorway, watching you. Silent.

“Everything okay, son?” His father asks.

“Yes, it’s... fine,” Jonathan answers, “I’ll let you go. Wouldn’t want to wake her.”

“Oh yes, get some sleep,” his mother insists, “love ya.”

“Night, son.”

Jonathan crosses the room and you hear his phone meet the table on his side of the bed. The mattress dips as he climbs in and pulls the blanket over himself, nestling in close to you. He sighs and hums as he hugs you to him once more.

You lay, frozen and silent, praying he can’t feel your pulse.

“Did I wake you?” He whispers and kisses your crown.

You force a groan from your throat and feign grogginess, “hmm, oh, no...” You wiggle into the mattress and yawn, putting your hand over his.

“Back to sleep, darling,” he purrs as he nuzzles you.

#colin shea #jonathan pine #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #colin shea x reaader #what's your number?#the night manager #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #multifandom

107 notes · View notes

weeeeeekly · 4 months ago

Text

quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” and princess, & not edited.

wc: 2.6k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

CHAPTER SEVEN

(extra warning for fear of open water)

The rest of your week consisted of getting to know each of the members on an individual level.

The next day after your heart-to-heart with Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai, you had to head back to work the next day.

“Don’t go.” Kai complains, stretching the “o” out and hugging you tighter to his body.

“I have to. I don’t want to be unemployed.”

Yeonjun takes a sip of water from the doorframe, “Kai, let our love go. I’ll walk you to your car.”

After bargaining with Kai that you’ll hangout with just him tomorrow – and a quick use of the nickname “Hyuka” – you change for work in the bathroom, drink your usual iced matcha latte made by Taehyun, and say your goodbyes with your arm intertwined with Yeonjun’s.

“Thanks for walking me to my car.”

“It’s an excuse to spend alone time with you.”

Both of you get into elevator, Yeonjun tries to push the button, but it’s not working. Yeonjun gives you a forced chuckle as he hits the button again. Nothing. And then the open button for the doors that won’t open.

“You’re joking.” You deadpan as the lights go out in the elevator.

“I’m going to be so late to work.” You shoot a quick text to your boss as Yeonjun presses the emergency call button.

“Should I text the guys that we’re stuck?”

Just as you finish your sentence you hear Beomgyu call out, “I’LL SAVE YOU, OUR LOVE!”

The next 20 minutes is spent with Yeonjun telling you a story from their trainee days as Beomgyu and Kai take turns trying to open the elevator doors like they’re Spider-Man. Once you two are saved by the fire department, Yeonjun still walks you to your car via the apartment’s staircase. You get into your car but before you can close the door, Yeonjun bends down to kiss you on the cheek.

“Have a good day at work.”

Miraculously, you’re only 5 minutes late to work and your boss didn’t even notice.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

Wednesday, your favorite day of the week, and your promised day with Kai.

You even make sure to finish our work early so you can leave early to surprise him. You need to get groceries since your fridge and snack corner were getting bare. You hope that Kai won’t think it’s boring and a waste of solo time.

“Any time with you is good!”

The look on Kai’s face makes you want to cry – the look of “As-long-as-we’re-together-I’ll-be-happy” on his angel face makes your knees weak.

“How do you feel about going shopping with me?”

“Let’s go.”

You drive yourself and Kai to the family-owned supermarket that was the greatest thing within the city for the next couple of miles. The next best thing being the airport and the downtown city. You could honestly walk to the store, but you’re not too sure how much you both might buy.

The parking lot isn’t empty, but it’s also not full, so a good amount of people were also grocery shopping. You grab a cart as you open your phone’s notes for your list.

“Grab whatever you need.”

Kai nods as he heads down the aisle as you stop to look for your favorite brand of chips.

Kai can’t believe that he’s doing a mundane task with you again. It takes him back to when you two used to sail to the neighboring island to watch the nurse sharks migrate.

When he looks over to observe you, it’s like you never left. Sure, you don’t look the exact same as you once did, but you’ve kept the same mannerisms and facial expressions. Your manner of speech is almost identical except updated for the current times. Not even the language barrier can bother him or his other soulmates – as long as you stay together with them.

If he puts aside the fact that he’s a member of TXT, and pretends he’s just Huening Kai, it’s like you two are buying groceries as newlyweds for your shared home. The thought of him standing at the altar with his soulmates and looking down the aisle to see you walking towards them.

He needs to sit down.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you look down on him sitting in the middle of the chip aisle.

“Uh, looking for Yeonjun.” He comes up with the excuse as he reaches for a bag of hot fries.

“Good idea. We should surprise them with their favorite snacks.”

The smile on your face as you reach for the bag makes him need to sit down again.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

You power through your tasks at work so you can get home early again to hangout with Beomgyu. As you’re packing up your bag to leave your boss stops you.

“Someone’s in a hurry to leave.”

“Yeah, I’ve got plans with a friend.”

“Oh, a friend.” She winks at you continue packing. “Hopefully this friend can take your mind off ETC.”

“TXT.”

“Right, TXT. See you tomorrow!”

When you arrive at the parking garage, Beomgyu is waiting for you next to your parking spot. When you pull into the spot, you roll down the window to talk to him.

“Um, hey?”

“I want to walk you back.”

“That’s kind of you.”

As you two walk back, hands swinging in almost perfect synchronicity that your hands could touch, Beomgyu holds your hand as he holds the door open for you. Laid out on the table are the snacks purchased yesterday, extra pillows on the couch, and two controllers with the video game’s menu screen ready.

“You played this before?”

“No, I usually play farming games where I can do whatever I want and decorate my character and house.”

“The game is just fighting. Easy to learn.”

The two of you played the video game with Beomgyu winning 4 rounds in a row. You didn’t mind. You got to chill out, eat some snacks, and spend more time with him.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

After heading back to your apartment to sleep, you wake up to Taehyun calling you.

You groggily accept the call, “Hello?”

“Hey, can you get ready in 15 minutes to work out?”

You bolt up from bed, “Yes. See you soon. Bye!”

Hanging up, you rush to your closet to grab the comfiest clothes, the quickest shower ever, change, fill your favorite reuseable water bottle, and greet Taehyun in under 15.

“12… minutes.” You huff out as you try to catch your breath.

“Woah, we haven’t even started working out yet.”

Yeah, because not all of us can be athletically blessed and still look like the reincarnation of a Greek god while doing so.

You force a smile to Taehyun as you stand up. “Let’s just get this workout over with. Please go easy on me.”

“It’ll be an easy workout!”

Easy workout your ass. He made you want to die during stretching, tried to torture you with boxing against him, and made you cuss him out while on the stairmaster.

“I hate this stupid fucking machine.” You glare at Taehyun as he works out.

“It’s not that hard.”

You purse your lips to not make a sexual joke. Honestly, it’s been difficult to not make a multitude of jokes, especially with the fan edits you’ve seen. Many “I bet you are”, “You’re what”, and “I can show you what’s hard” were trapped in your mind.

The rest of the workout wasn’t as terrible since you begged Taehyun to use the remaining time on the treadmill so you could watch videos. You snuck your favorite To Do episode before you two went back to your apartments so you could get ready for work.

You hate to admit it but despite the fire you felt in your legs – you did feel better after working out in the morning. Just slightly.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

You immediately crashed after getting back home from work. You were excited to stay up late and catch up on some tv shows, but the second your head hit the pillow after showering and getting into some cozy pjs, you knocked the fuck out.

You did wake up refreshed the following morning though.

A text notification caught your attention as you were scrolling through your emails.

gc with 6 cuties

soob 숩 hi do you want to bake with me

hyuka egg tarts ٩(ˊ��ˋ*)و

you i’ll be over in 10

All of these social outings have made you feel like the most popular person on earth. You don’t want to dwell on the thought too much, but this is exactly what you wished for in high school – a group of friends you regularly hung out with. TXT was a friend group you’ve always wished for, but whatever you have with them is more than that. You still can’t wrap your head around how you were reincarnated soulmates, especially since only they held memories of it. It would’ve been a different story if it was vice versa, you wouldn’t have been believed.

Shutting your eyes and breathing out, that doesn’t matter right now. You should be getting ready to bake with Choi Soobin, your friend. Someone that you can confide your thoughts to and feel no judgement. Someone that apologized for not baking cookies for you when he moved in next door.

More than half an hour went by before you knocked on their door. You spent too much time trying to get your hair just right that you gave up before you started crying in frustration. Your outfit was fine, nothing exciting since you couldn’t find the clothes you wanted to wear.

Soobin just smiles at you when he opens the door, dimples on full display. You could write a master’s thesis on how much you love his dimples. Soobin’s whole face in general. When he does the silly one-sided smile to the head tilt with a wink and tongue out.

“Sorry for being late.”

“It’s okay.”

When you walk in, the rest of the guys are out of the apartment. The kitchen counter is full of baking supplies. Soobin ties a pink apron around himself before holding up a matching apron for you.

“Can I?”

You nod as you turn around so he can put the apron on for you. Once he’s done you turn around, “How do I look?”

“Pretty.”

You widen your eyes at him before fixing your glasses, “Thanks.”

“We can bake cookies and egg tarts.”

Soobin baked most of the desserts as you barely served as an assistant. You weren’t complaining as you were too excited to eat the food. You did help measuring the dry ingredients, putting on icing, using the oven, and giving Soobin space in general.

The rest of the guys came home while you two were still baking with Taehyun coming home last when you were letting the desserts cool down. The 6 of you lounge around the living room, eating the desserts when you say the first thought that comes to mind. “I want to be in a pool right now.”

“It’s 10 PM. The pool is closed.”

You sent a smirk to Yeonjun, “So? We can sneak in. We can go after you guys finish eating.”

The next few minutes are spent with everyone quickly scarfing down more desserts before leaving. Kai makes sure to grab some towels. Your little group takes the stairs down to the first floor and take the side door to the apartment complex pool.

Taehyun stops walking, “Wait, we don’t have swim clothes.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, “It’s okay, we don’t need any.”

Taehyun turns to Yeonjun who has his mouth open in shock. Soobin’s ears turn red as Kai stops in his tracks. Beomgyu pushes Kai to keep walking. They don’t want to voice it out loud, but they’re all thinking the same thing.

Are you going to swim naked like they used to in the past.

Once you climb the fence, they hear a splash a few minutes later which causes them to quickly scale the fence.

You’re standing in the shallow end as you wave at them to get in. As they approach the pool ledge, you swim over to them and push yourself up to sit on the ledge. They notice that your clothes are sticking to your figure causing inappropriate thoughts to flood their mind yet again.

You look at Yeonjun as his ears turn red.

“Are you blushing?”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

You giggle as you tease him and the way your nose scrunches up causes his heart to flip like before. If he squints his eyes – it’s almost like you never left on that damn ship.

Beomgyu goes to pretend to push Yeonjun in, but Yeonjun moves at the last minute and makes him accidentally push you in.

You let out a surprised gasp as you go underwater. When you resurface, your glasses are missing.

“Oh no, my glasses!”

Beomgyu face drops, confusion written on your face as you look around the dimly lit pool.

“I’m so sorry, love. Soobin will help you find them.”

“W-what?” Soobin steps backwards away from the group, shaking his head in protest.

“Just shine your phone flashlight.”

Soobin carefully walks toward the ledge, death gripping his phone. You dive under the water again and resurface with a frown.

In a fraction of a second, Kai rips Soobin’s phone out of his hand as you pull Soobin’s ankle toward you, making him fall in.

Once underwater, you open your eyes to look at Soobin, but even with your shitty vision and the blurriness from the water, you know something is wrong. You reach your hands out to pull Soobin above water.

Even with both of your feet touching the floor, Soobin starts freaking out. He clings to you as you look over to the guys with confusion clearly written on your face.

Soobin keeps muttering something as you try to make sense of what he’s saying.

“It’s my fault.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Soobin, look at me. You’re okay.”

You hold Soobin’s face as he finally makes eye contact with you and regulates his breathing.

“You’re okay. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.”

“You.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s get you out of the pool.”

Taehyun gets into the pool and helps you walk Soobin out to sit him down in a lounge chair. You sit down next to him as Yeonjun drapes a towel over his shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask as he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. We should head back to our apartment before we get in trouble.”

“HEY!”

All of your heads comically whip in the direction of the stranger’s shout only to see one of the complex’s security guards waving a flashlight from across the pool, on the other side of the fence.

“Oh shit.”

The 6 of you start running to the door and run up the flight of stairs not stopping until Yeonjun locks the door of their apartment behind you.

“Dammit. I left my glasses in the pool.”

masterlist | previous | next

author's note i drove myself to panera to write this chapter out in an effort to be productive. i'm posting this from panera!! yeah, i definitely cannot keep up a consistent schedule for updating. my bad y'all. i should have just waited until i wrote out the entire story before posting.

#txt x reader #txt x you #tomorrow x together x reader #tomorrow x together x you #txt fanfic #txt smut #ot5 x reader #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yandere txt

36 notes · View notes

gluion · 1 year ago

Text

[part one] of guitar strings and peeled tangerines (i’ll bruise my fingers just for you)

non-idol!jacob bae x reader, slight non-idol!ji changmin x reader

when you are unable to continue staying in the city, you are forced to move back to the small provincial town you begged to stay away from. but when you come face-to-face with the reliable village co-chief, jacob bae, you learn that your stay won’t be so pleasant after all.

genre/warnings ➵ childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn, slice of life, angst, slight fluff!, afab reader (they/them pronouns), hurt/comfort, flashbacks, being lost (and trying to figure things out) in your late 20s, a lot of trauma that stem from mommy issues (tiger moms :')), themes of grief, forgiveness, and pressure to succeed, quitting your job & lying to everyone out of shame, realizing you have grown out of your hometown, ju haknyeon is your lovely best friend, jacob bae has issues with you </3, you two also work together, use of nicknames, alludes to someone's death, depictions of panic attacks

word count ➵ 8.2k words

parts ➵ check out the series masterlist

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub

a/n ➵ SHE'S DONE!!! SHE'S OUT!!! EARLY RELEASE YUP!!!! needed this out just to give me time to work on the fic exchange event </3 please be patient for the other parts (there will be more jacob and reader interaction </3) this is very slow burn so i hope you guys will stick with me all throughout! i hope you all enjoy! i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to reblog this (even if it's in your tbr!)

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! main masterlist

The first steps you take are ones you don’t remember; the first time you managed to stand on your own two feet in front of your parents, the first words you say to your dad—poopy—as he changed your diapers, even the first book you read to yourself. (It’s The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister, though you probably didn’t understand the string of words at the time)

Yet, within the four corners of your mind, a cardboard box labeled “do not throw” sits by one of them. It stores fractions of moments that’ll never get lost in a hole that time continues to shovel down; your first day in kindergarten where you scraped your knee from playing, and the first friend made in your first years of school who you cannot help but think about until now.

But most of all, you’ll never forget the aspirations that propelled you to where you stand today. The desire to be good—great, even—so that you could prove that you are capable never seemed to dwindle. And no matter all the times the ambition felt like it would slip from your fingertips, you gripped it tighter than ever, forming calluses all over. You couldn’t allow yourself to settle for less. You had to prove yourself to someone—one who underestimates while expecting everything from you.

It’s funny; a monologue about determination and pride only for you to stand in your apartment littered with boxes filled with household items, ready to move out of busy Seoul. You stand in the middle of the mess, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes scan through the items that need to be packed and sold.

“Appa, I’m sorry again for causing you trouble,” you whisper.

A chuckle sounds out from the other end of the line. “What’re you sorry for? I’m happy that you’re coming back home!” You sigh as you sit down on your couch. It’ll be the last time you ever get to sit on it until you move tomorrow.

“I swear, I’ll be back on my feet soon enough. It’s just that,” you try to keep your heart at bay. “HR is forcing me to use my vacation days, and rent here is impossible without me doing work.” The lie leaves your mouth like how you practiced it over the past weeks.

You couldn’t stand to break your dad’s heart with the truth. The child who should’ve succeeded had turned into an unemployed individual. Who would’ve expected that you, out of all people, would quit your job? It paid well and kept you afloat amid Seoul, and you wonder why you did that in the first place.

Now, you stand between crossroads without any road signs. Without a clue of which track to thread on, you take steps back rather than moving forward. You were supposed to reach another height your father could commemorate. Instead, you’re back in the town you grew up in—the place you’ve grown to hate, the one you abandoned for the right reasons—and you can only imagine the disappointment that will coat your father’s face as he has to shelter you once more.

The brown container that sits in the corner of your mind doesn’t only store the trinkets that are in good shape—it holds novelties that bring sorrow. No matter how many times you wish you could chuck it down the endless hole, these tangible fragments always land back in the box as if they never left. The case can never be thrown away; there’s nothing you can do but leave it as is, stirring away from it as much as you can.

“I really don’t mind. I mean, it’s been years since I last saw you,” your dad says, and you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek.

“Still, I’m sorry I sprung this on you last minute.” Your eyes land on a picture frame that hangs on the wall. A picture of you and your coworkers during one of the team buildings; it’s your favorite memory with them. “I would’ve asked my friends if they could help me out but they didn’t have the space to accommodate me.”

This time, you were telling the truth. Kim Namjoon from Production and Kang Seulgi from Marketing, your friends from your old job, didn’t have enough room for you in their respective places. You didn’t want to inconvenience them with your troubles, anyway. Ultimately, it’s your fault for leaving your job after all, and it’s not your friends' responsibility to take care of you.

“Y/N,” your father starts. “I said it’s fine. I’m happy to take you back because I miss you.” You pout at his words. Although you had the right reasons to leave home, you felt bad that you abandoned him as well. You two tried to stay in touch through short calls you managed to squeeze into your busy schedules, but you know that it could never replace the comfort of physical presence.

“Appa,” you whine out as you lean back on the couch, the leather squeaking against the friction. “I miss you, too,” your dad chuckles on the other end of the line; it’s a sound you haven’t heard in a while.

As you stare at the opened boxes, you let out a sigh. “Appa, I’ll have to go. I still need to finish packing and sending some items away.” He hums in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you by next week, okay?”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.”

You chuckle before saying, “Appa, it’s fine. I still know my way around town.”

“Still! I want to help you out with your luggage, and the town has changed a bit since you last visited for—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. He doesn’t say anything after that. “I’ll figure it out. I want you to focus on your restaurant, okay?” He only hums.

A beat passes. You’re about to say something until he beats you to it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Appa, it’s fine.” The tone is convincing, but you two knew about the sensitive issue that he almost touched on. A sigh leaves your lips. “I mean it, okay? You don’t have to worry.” The last thing you wanted is for your dad to worry about you again; he’s done enough of that while you were still under his care.

“But I’ll always worry about you because I care. You know that, right?” You bite the inside of your cheek, letting out a hum. Your dad sighs before saying, “Okay, I’ll let you go now. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do.”

You smile to yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Appa.”

“Bye, Gyul-ah.”

Warmth spreads to your heart. It’s been a while since you heard him call you that—mandarin orange. To you and him, clementines and tangerines looked and tasted the same, no matter what other people tried to convince you of their differences. The fruits were staples in your childhood home, always peeled and ready to eat.

“Bye, Appa.” The call drops. You move your phone to the side before letting out a sigh. You look at the mess that surrounds you. It’s tough work but one that must be done. You’re staying there for two weeks, and you’ll return to your life in Seoul right after. You’ll be able to find a job within that time frame, right?

Six years ago—that was the last time you visited this town. In your time away, it still looks the same. Unlike Seoul, the sky isn’t polluted by the exhaust from cars or the blaring lights of every skyscraper. Puffy white clouds contrast the bright blue.

The sounds of cicadas fill your ears, and the heat pierces your skin. God, you remember why you disliked staying here, and it wasn’t just from the minor issues. So many reasons to leave, and yet, you’re back here with no choice.

A sigh leaves you as you step out of the train. The station looks the same as the last time you left; rust covers the arms of benches, the clock still ticks slower than the one on your wrist, and leaves are scattered all over the floor. You notice only a few passengers have gotten off this stop (five people including you) and you only wonder what business they have here.

Nothing is interesting about where you grew up. It’s a rural area; the fields of fruits and vegetables, a small communal market at the center of town, and only around 200 residents living in this area. It’s a small town—what could’ve changed over the years?

You step out of the station, luggage trailing behind you, and you bump into the busy community. In their arms were crates of produce; vegetables, fruits, eggs, you name it. The faces that passed you were familiar ones, but no one seemed to recognize you. Maybe you grew out of your 18-year-old self. And you expect to feel a sense of relief take over—you have finally grown out of your past—but you feel more displaced than ever.

But before you can dwell on it, you hear someone call your name. The voice is familiar, one you haven’t heard in ages, and your eyes land on a boy—your first friend back in kindergarten. Your heart soars at how much he’s grown. He comes rushing to you with a crate of oranges and drops it as soon as he stands in front of you.

“Juhak,” the nickname leaves your lips, a smile following.

Before you know it, he brings you into a hug; it’s one you haven’t felt in years. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” He smells of citrus, probably from the fruits he was handling. The scent reminds you of home; tangerines and clementines in every corner, unpeeled and ready to consume. Your arms wrap around him, your face snuggling into his shoulder, and you breathe him in—almost to make up for all the years spent separated.

Ten years ago—that was the last time you saw your childhood friend, Ju Haknyeon. The difference between him when you first left versus now isn’t stark. Long gone is his fluffy hair, and a short fringe is what he sports. He’s grown a few inches taller, and he’s definitely gotten more muscle on him. But baby fat still fills his cheeks, and he flashes you a toothy grin; it’s a Juhak signature. In this man, a part of your best friend still resides.

“I—wow, I don’t even know what to say,” he says as he rests his hands on his hips, taking in the sight of you. “Can’t believe you’re dressed up like that.” The chuckle that leaves his lips has you rolling your eyes. Clothed in a pair of jeans whose material seems hotter than fleece and a long-sleeved shirt, you were not dressed for this type of heat. This outfit is normal back in Seoul, even something you would wear during summer, but you’ve forgotten how different the heat is back here.

“Sorry, didn’t know there was a dress code.” It’s laced with sarcasm, and Haknyeon snorts. You pull on your collar, letting the air pass and graze your skin. You smile at him. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Haknyeon gulps down nothing. It’s a habit of his—swallowing nothing whenever he couldn’t find the right words to say. You’re almost shocked at how his antics are still the same even ten years later.

Silence takes over. In those few seconds, you two allow for it to settle. You two couldn’t believe you’d finally set foot back into this town, and the joy of reuniting with an old friend shifts into discomfort. The reality sinks in—you abandoned your best friend without any notice.

You divert your gaze to the ground. In your peripheral vision, you spot him picking up the crate. “I, uhm,” you fix your posture, back straight as you stare back at him. A gentle smile rests on his lips, and you’re only reminded of how shitty you were to leave this town with no way to contact you. “I’m—yeah, I don’t even know where to start.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m assuming you're on your way to Abeoji.” He glances at the luggage behind you. As you hum, he says, “I’ll go with you.”

Your eyes widen at his offer, taking a glimpse at the crate he holds. “What about work?”

“Lucky for you, I just need to drop this off at the market and then we can go.” He flashes you a smile, and you nod, accepting his request and hauling your luggage as you walk side-by-side with him.

As you two make your way to the center, you take in the features of the town. The buildings are shorter than the skyscrapers in Seoul, reaching only two levels high. There were marts selling different products; school supplies, ingredients, amenities, you name it. In every establishment, it would be filled with people who know each other. No matter who you passed, every store clerk had a relationship with the customers, and every customer seemed to know the other shoppers as well. It’s a tight-knit community, you always knew that, but it still amazes you that such an attitude persists after your disappearance.

“Here we are,” Haknyeon says, causing you to halt your steps. “This won’t take long.” Before you know it, he enters the establishment. The store clerk’s expression instantly brightens at the sight of him. As you watch the two interact through the glass window, your heart is enveloped in warmth. It feels similar to the glow in a fireplace—toasty enough to bring you comfort until your hand is too close to the source, leaving a mark that can only be soothed by cold water. The sight shows that Haknyeon is doing well, but it’s enough to remind you of what you missed out on during your absence.

He makes his way out of the store, hands-free, and grins at you. “Well, ready to visit Abeoji?” You nod before walking to your dad’s restaurant. You two make your way out of the center, entering the quieter parts of town. The chatter turns into mumbles and the buzzing of cicadas takes over.

“So, Abeoji renovated the restaurant,” Haknyeon starts. You glance at him before letting your eyes trail back to the path you take.

“Really? How different does it look?” Your dad never mentioned this. Even when you came back to visit six years ago, you were unaware of such plans. But you remember that you two never talk (and you mean actually talk). In your phone calls, it was always small talk—Hi, Appa. Are you doing well? Okay, I’ll ask the same question tomorrow. Bye—and never about what occurred in your separate lives.

“It’s nicer. It still has a wood interior, the chairs, the tables, you know.” You hum at what he says, glad to know that it won’t be too different from the restaurant you grew up with. “But the kitchen is a lot nicer and not as cramped. It’s still small and cozy. Your dad added sleeping quarters to the back.” You look at Haknyeon but he only looks straight, eyes still on the track you two take.

His revelation made you wonder how much your father had to face all while you were gone. All while you were off in Seoul barely getting by, you can only imagine what your dad must’ve gone through. The waves crash against your heart, dragging it into the sea of black and consuming it as if it were nothing. Did you even have a heart if you abandoned everyone ten years ago?

He meets your gaze, a grin on his lips. “I’m so glad to see that you’re back!” You smile back at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you back? Does Abeoji have a problem?” His question isn’t meant to be invasive. Out of all people, Haknyeon knew how to respect your boundaries. You wish you could tell him the truth—you’re unemployed and you have nowhere to go but here. And yet…

“Oh, I’m on leave.” His eyebrows raise in shock. “My company told me I need to use my vacation days. It’s part of the policy, you know.” The only truth that stands is that your old company did require you to use those allotted days; it’s their way of ensuring that they aren’t overworking their employees.

“Wow! Didn’t know city life was that progressive,” Haknyeon laughs. “I would’ve gone to Seoul if I knew that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just got lucky with my company. Work is still work, you know?” He hums along. “I’m guessing you still work with your parents?” It’s a fair assumption considering his family has one of the more giant fruit farms in town.

“Yup!” His eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be taking over the business once Appa retires.” You forget how much Haknyeon enjoys this place. Never once do you remember him ever considering a life in the city, away from the noisy cicadas and troublesome flies. All he needs is found here.

“How’s the city?”

You hum, thinking about where to start. “Everything is cramped but far apart,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “The buildings are so close together but you need to commute to get around, and it’s hard to travel during rush hour.”

Haknyeon scrunches his nose. “That sounds awful.” You nod. “But I’m sure your friends helped you out in adjusting.” He meant to say it with sincerity but the tone is like ice water being thrown at you—a reality check of what you had done to him. You know of your sin—it’ll be one you need to repent for.

You two finally arrive in front of a small building, one that resembles a house. The roof used to be crimson with splotches of black, and the walls were once off-white. But the new look of your dad’s restaurant is a sight to behold; a cream-colored roof and walls painted in basil green with potted plants littered at the front.

“Well, here we are!” Your eyes snap back to Haknyeon. He holds the same smile he first shot when he spotted you in the crowd. “How long will you be staying?”

“Around two weeks.” That’s what you hope.

“That’s good to hear! We should catch up while you’re still here.” Knowing him, this isn’t an empty request; it’s one that you must fulfill. So you nod, smiling before making your way to the door. Your hand rests on the knob; you don’t know if you should turn it.

“There’ll be a party by the community hall tomorrow.” You gaze at him. He stands afar, chest open with a gashed heart. It bears the marks of your fingertips; he still hands it to you. “Your dad is coming, and I’m sure everyone else would love to meet you.”

It’s Haknyeon’s attempt to involve you with the community once more—to give you a reason to stay—but it won’t be enough. Melancholy fills the air. The repulsive stench clings to every corner of town—only you can smell it—and that scent accompanies your sins; they take form in the faces of those you know. You didn’t want to be face-to-face with the one person you��ve disappointed the most.

“I’ll see.” It’s a whisper, one that signifies your hesitation. You’re sure he knows what that phrase means; it never changed during your years away. But he settles for a smile, not bothering to convince you otherwise. The ball is in your courtside, and it’s your choice on what you want to do with it.

“I’ll see you, okay?”

You nod and twist the doorknob, and the bells chime as it signals your arrival. “Bye.” A final glance and grin are what you spare him before you enter the restaurant. And when you close the door behind you, you realize that it’s not only the outside that carries the stench. Within these four walls, the scent is accompanied by murky waves. Every part of this town floods you with nothing but misery.

Picture frames litter the walls; photographs of the community, the sceneries of town, and artworks from unknown artists. Some you recognize back in the days you stayed here after class but others were new. In a sea of potted plants that hang from the ceiling, incandescent bulbs glow within the expanse of green. You once remember the lack of greenery in this restaurant. But the chairs and table are the same ones from then, their wood getting discolored with age. You’re almost sure you can find your old carvings if you spend time looking for them.

Every corner of this restaurant held a piece of the past amongst the new—a part of what you’re familiar with within the abundance of the unfamiliar—but these do nothing to drive away the stench. If anything, the scent intensifies. A face mask cannot do anything to keep you from smelling it. You’re only left to suck it in and plague you with memories you’ve pushed down.

“Gyul-ah!” Your father comes in, a grin on his face. There are more lines on his face, a sign that he has gotten older over the time you were gone, and you are glad to witness him at this age. Not many people can say they’ve seen their parent’s hair turn white and wrinkles get deeper. The sight of him is enough to twist the valves, almost turning on the waterworks, but you keep your hand firm on the knobs. Today, you weren’t going to allow yourself to cry.

But you run to him, leaving your luggage by the front door, and wrap your arms around him. You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in for the first time in six years, and he embraces you. He smells of baby powder, the same brand you used back when he took care of you, and you realize that he keeps parts of the past to hold pieces of you. You can only imagine how much you’ve grown since he last saw you.

You grin at him when your head finally leaves the space between his neck and shoulder. You two untangle yourselves from each other. For a moment, you let yourselves bathe in each other’s presence; it’s a miracle after all.

“You continue to grow and become more beautiful with time,” he starts, his hand reaching out to your shoulder. He draws circles, almost as if he’s trying to process your presence. “But I know the child in you still lives,” he attempts to come to terms with how he barely knows you, but you won’t disagree—not this time, at least.

“Appa, I love what you did with the place. How come you never mentioned it?”

He shakes his head, retracting his hand from you. “Ah, it’s nothing. We’re busy with our own lives, so I didn’t want to trouble you with the details.” It’s a direct strike on your heart, but it’s the truth. “But I’m glad that you’re here to see it yourself. It makes the reveal a lot more authentic.”

“Yeah.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I’d love to catch up, but I need to prepare and open the restaurant,” he sighs before making his way to the door, flipping the sign that once said “closed” to “open.” “My employee will be late, so I’ll need to work extra hard for the time being.”

You frown. “Late? Why?” You quickly make your way to grab the luggage and drag it to the counter where the cashier is. “Let me help out.” You didn’t give him time to share the reason.

“No, it’s okay,” your dad’s attempt to reassure you does nothing. His gaze rests on you as he slowly approaches where you stand. “You should settle from your long journey. I’m sure the ride was exhausting.”

“Appa, I only sat in the train for a few hours, and during the ride I was asleep. I want to help.” Before he knows it, you’re already dragging your luggage to the back of the restaurant.

“At least put your things in the quarters!”

The last time you worked in your dad’s restaurant was ten years ago. Back then, you used to work with the cashier and clean dishes. But when you are left to handle all those tasks and tend to customers while your father focuses on cooking, it feels impossible. As the hand of the clock strikes 2:00 p.m., customers have made their way out of the restaurant. You can finally catch your breath.

Your dad exits the kitchen, spotting you leaning on the counter. “It’s nice to see that you still have it within you.” He doesn’t mean to mock you, you know that, but the sting of his words is still felt. Years spent in Seoul will never diminish the skills you learned from working under your father.

“How do you even manage? I mean, with you and your employee?”

He sighs. You watch him wipe the clean dishes and set them aside. “I like what I do, no matter how difficult it may be.” His gaze is affixed on you.

It strikes a chord within you. You spent six years in your old job, so indeed you must’ve enjoyed what you did, right? And yet, you stand in front of your father, a pitiful case that he’ll have to tend to once more.

You clear your throat. “Appa, you’re getting old. Don’t you want to rest?”

“No,” he chortles. “I want to keep running this restaurant until I can barely move. I’ll know when to let this place go.” He walks to the space beside you and grabs hold of your hand. The hand that changed your diapers and cooked your meals has aged. He’s spent so many years taking care of you; there’ll never be a good way to thank him for everything.

“I’ll have you stay in the old house,” he starts. Your grip on his hand grows tighter. “I’m not ready to go back there, so I’ve been sleeping here.”

A beat passes.

“Since when?”

“Six years ago.” He looks at you. “But I’ve been able to enter that house again. I just don’t sleep there. Don’t worry about the dust. My employee and I clean the place every week.” You’re not worried at all about the mess. It’s the stench that clings to the furniture, the murky water that floods the place, the spiders that crawl over the walls, the remnants of her. Those four walls only fuel your nightmares; ironically, you call them such when they’ve all been real.

So you want to tell him—no, beg him to let you stay here. You couldn’t walk into that house for it will have you relive fractions of your trauma. If you couldn’t enter that house six years ago, what difference would four years later make?

The bells chime, and your eyes land on the person who enters the restaurant. Foggy waves clash against you in full force, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. There he is, dressed in a baggy teal shirt and denim shorts. A few strands of hair hang in front of his forehead; it’s different from the old bowl-cut hair he used to have back in high school. But most of all, he’s grown up—not only out of his baby face but even in figure, aura.

A polite smile once rested on his lips. He looked ready to greet your father, almost ready to say hello to you, until he realized who stood beside his boss. The smile dissipates. Suddenly, time stills; it’s almost as if it worked under his command.

Under his gaze, you cannot help but shrink back to your 18-year-old self—the one who spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to be face-to-face with their best friend after abandoning them. And now that you’re finally in the situation you’ve spent days imagining, figuring out how to gain his trust again, you’re not sure what to say.

Jacob Bae—the home you sought out during your years growing up. (He still is, no matter how hard you try to dissociate that from him.) But now, he embodies your fears. The smell of tangerines is mixed with the repulsive stench—he’s turned into the house you ran away from ten years back.

Jacob’s expression shifts back to a polite smile as he looks at your father. “Abeoji, I’m sorry I’m late!” His nonchalant stride made the situation unpalatable. With every step taken towards your dad, an arrow is shot through your heart. It’s almost as if he didn’t care about what happened between you two (should he when you were the one who caused the rift?). His shoulder faces you all while he talks to your father; it’s a clear sign of what your relationship has turned into. Despite this space being one you grew up in, you’ve become an intruder. You have revoked your spot in this restaurant, this town.

“Don’t worry about it,” your dad says as he grips Jacob’s shoulder. “I hope all went well in the community center.”

Jacob smiles at him, and says, “Yeah, we got it settled. We’re just finalizing things for tomorrow.”

Your father hums as he glances at you. “Why don’t you bring back Y/N?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “They’ll need help getting settled in.” You shake your head at him, but he refuses to acknowledge your silent protest.

“Appa, I’m sure you’ll need him here,” you chuckle as your eyes glance to the back of Jacob’s head. “I can figure it out. I’ve lived there anyway; 18 years long, to be specific.” Jacob’s going to say no; you expect it. And yet…

“Okay.”

Your eyes widen. He proves you wrong—you don’t know him after all.

“Alright! Go get your stuff Gyul-ah,” your dad says as he wraps his arm around Jacob’s shoulders. And for once, Jacob looks at you. You cannot pinpoint the emotion across his features.

You nod at your father’s words and make your way to the back of the restaurant. Your heartbeat rings in your ears. Years spent imagining what to say to Jacob didn’t prepare you enough to face the actual situation. Once you gather your things, you leave the sleeping quarters. Your dad’s chortle bounces off the four walls, probably from a joke he made. And then you catch a glimpse of Jacob’s smile; it’s still sweet as you remember it. You’re suddenly back to your 17-year-old self.

Then, his eyes land on you. The smile vanishes. He stares right at you (you mean really stares at you, a long one for the matter) for the first time since he arrived. So you clear your throat, hoping that he will be the first one to break eye contact—he doesn’t. Your dad spins to face you. “Ah! Okay, I’ll see you.” You watch Jacob nod all while he keeps his gaze fixed on you.

For once, you let your ego take the hit; you avert your eyes and make your way to the door. You two leave, and Jacob doesn’t give you a moment to think. He grabs your luggage from you and finds his spot beside you. And you were going to comment—I can handle it myself—but he keeps his eyes forward; you decide to do the same.

Instead of walking on the dirt trail path, you’re walking on eggshells. You’re not sure what to say to clear the silence. Unbeknownst to you, he can sense your awkward nature. Hands fiddling with the strap of your shoulder bag and gaze fixed on their feet; your antics remain the same after all these years.

“How long will you be staying?” Your eyes snap up only to see him continue to look at the path.

You clear your throat, afraid your voice might crack. “Two weeks.” He only hums. You two fall back into silence.

It’s weird to think about it; the same guy who you once treated as your best friend since childhood—the same one whom you’ve poured your heart to—is now someone you barely know. You grew up with him and stuck with him from your elementary days until your high school ones. Ten years apart can change so much between those who once swore to stay in each other’s lives.

You two finally arrive in front of the old house, your old house. Everything is in shape; the windows are crystal clear and the paint is intact. It’s just like how you first left it. A storm brews within you; you despise it. After all these years, you still can’t escape the horrors of this house.

“Here,” Jacob says and raises the keys. You open your hand, allowing him to drop it into your palm. “Your boxes are inside, they arrived a few days ago. I also cleaned out the place.” You only nod. He glances at the luggage he holds and asks, “Do you need help settling in?” You shake your head which has him nodding. He hands you your luggage. “Okay.” You take it from him.

Before you know it, he turns away from you. He only takes a few steps but it feels like he’s gone distances away from you. And you’re afraid you’ll let him slip away like last time.

“Cobie!” It’s the first time you’ve said that nickname since you last saw him. He freezes. You’re not even sure if you had the right to call him that. He looks back at you, and his furrowed eyebrows say enough. “Sorry, I meant,” you close your eyes for a moment. “It slipped.” It’s an honest mistake, but you’re sure he’s not pleased by it.

He turns back to you, walking until he stands directly in front of you. He doesn’t say anything, only looking at you with the same expression. “Do you want to come in?” His expression falters. “Maybe just to catch up.” It’s a small step but still one to begin with. Maybe you’ll figure out what to say to him within those four walls for they have you at your most vulnerable state; it’s the doing of the ghost that haunts the building.

The Jacob you knew would hear you out after all these years. He’d be defensive but still accept the offer. Cobie—no, Jacob always found comfort in answers, closure. And yet….

“No,” he answers. Your eyebrows jump in shock, and he notices. “I’d prefer not to. Good luck with unpacking.” And before you know it, he takes his leave. You watch his figure become smaller with every step he takes. He’s slipping away from your fingertips; there’s nothing you can do for he would only free himself from your grasp.

The waves are strong enough to tip your balance. You do everything to stand on your own feet. The image of Jacob you drew on the sand has been washed off—it’s your fault for drawing it too close to the shore.

Autumn makes its way here; the scent of rotting leaves, bruised fruits that fall from trees, and the breeze that hits your cheeks. You stand under a tree whose branches are perched with twig nests. They hold flocks of birds, ready to keep themselves warm during the season. The birds huddle up and chirp away tunes—they remind you of what you don’t have.

Then, a swingset creaks, and you are snapped out of your trance. A few meters away from you is a playground, one you don’t get to play in as much as you’d like, and in the middle of it a boy who looks down to the floor. He grips the rope with his blue sweater hands but doesn’t bother to swing.

With nowhere to go, your feet bring you to him. He pays no attention to you for he doesn’t notice you. But suddenly, he hears the rustling from the swing beside him. And when his eyes drift upwards, he finds you, seated and eyes trained on him. It’s surreal to him; to be graced by the talk amongst his classmates, the kid whose father runs a staple within the town. He doesn’t know what to say, but you don’t allow him to worry.

“Does your mom go to school like you?” He’s perplexed by your question. How did you know of him and his mother? “I see you two going to school together, always thirty minutes before classes start.”

He nods. “Yeah,” his voice is shaky. “She’s a teacher.”

“That’s cool!” Interest is evident in your tone. You move the swing side-to-side, going against the direction it typically goes. “Do you like her there?” Your eyes remain on him, and heat rises to his cheeks. He’s already shy, to begin with, and your stare only has his heart running.

And he would’ve settled with nonverbal responses, either shaking or nodding his head, but he’s not sure what compels him to answer. “I do,” he whispers, a shy smile on his face. He looks away from you, afraid to look back at you. “I like seeing her.”

He hears you hum for a moment. Then, silence settles between you two.

He thinks he should say more. Maybe he should tell you of all the trips his mom would take to the faculty’s cafeteria whose food is to die for. But when he glances at you, he sees your hands preoccupied with peeling a fruit—a tangerine. Stubby, nimble fingers peel the rind off, exposing its orange-colored flesh covered in strings of white. “I wish I could say the same.” A sigh follows with a bittersweet smile.

He watches you tear a piece, and suddenly, your eyes meet his. You raise it to him, the bittersweet smile now replaced with a genuine one, and say, “Have one.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and the flesh you hold in between your fingers, and you can’t help but giggle. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” And when he sees your smile—feels the warmth you emit in the middle of autumn—all worries slip away.

He grabs the tangerine slice and eats it. With just one bite, the juice bursts in his mouth; the citrus taste coats his tongue. A grin is on his face as he chews away.

“Eomma taught me how to peel tangerines,” you start. “She says I’m getting old, and that I should learn how to do it myself.” He looks at you only to see your eyes staring off to nowhere. How can you be old when you’re only ten years old? He didn’t even know how to peel fruits himself.

“But it’s okay. Not a lot of kids knew how to peel tangerines.” It’s almost as if you could hear his thoughts; he didn’t know if he should be petrified or amazed. Such a difficult task and you knew how to do it—perhaps his mom didn’t teach him how to do it so that he could meet you.

Before you know it, a woman grabs onto your arm. Your eyes snap towards her. “What did I tell you about walking off?!” Her tone is harsh. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are pulled to stand up. As the woman drags you away, you glance at him. “I’ll see you in school, Cobie!” He never told you his name, and yet, you found the perfect nickname for him. As your mom tugs you away from him, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Perhaps autumn brought you what you needed the most.

Ever since Jacob denied your offer, you weren’t sure how to act around him. He worked in your dad’s restaurant, and you offered to help them prepare for the party. It’s awkward, that’s for sure, and your dad could notice it. (Though, he never bothered to comment.) But you watch him all the way from the other side of the communal area, observing how he talks to an unfamiliar face.

“How are you enjoying your vacation?” Your eyes dart to where your father is. You’re sure he saw you looking at Jacob, but you can only hope he won’t bring it up.

You sigh as you carry a steel tray filled with kimchi. “Boring, really.” He only shows you an apologetic smile. “I like to work, you know me...”

He hums. “You know, it’s important to take time to rest.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you set the tray down on the table. “I’d be happy if you choose to stay.” To your father, it seemed like you being on leave (or you guess unemployed) would be the only way to have you stay here. You don’t blame him for wanting to try for you know it comes from a place of love, concern, yearning. But even ten years later, you still cannot find a reason to stay here.

“Appa,” you turn to face him. The apologetic smile is now replaced with pleading eyes—it’s hope. “I don’t like not doing anything, you of all people know that.” You’re a motor, one that needs to remain on, and feels the urge to always be on the go. Call it being a workaholic, you couldn’t stand the idea of not doing anything related to work.

And before your father can say anymore, a booming voice sounds throughout the venue. “Jacob! Sangyeon!” Your eyes snap to see Haknyeon hugging the two. Before you know it, his eyes settle on you. “And Y/N!” He rushes to you with a grin on his face. “You decided to show up after all!”

“Well, I want to help Appa out,” you chuckle.

“Abeoji, let me help, too!” Despite what your father says, Haknyeon walks off to grab some more trays.

Your dad sighs. “Haknyeon, always the one helping out.” A grin rests on your lips. He’s still the same boy you know after all. At least some things remain the same.

Before you know it, night comes, and the venue is filled with more residents. Most of them knew each other, talking amongst themselves as they filled their stomachs with food your dad made; it was a sight to behold. But most of all, you can remember the expression on some of their faces when they recognized who you were.

“It’s been forever!”

“You’ve grown up well! What do you do now?”

“You’re back? Since when?”

Admittedly, most of them weren’t expecting your return. You couldn’t disagree with them; you thought the same as well. After all, you moved all your things to Seoul. Still, the people who saw you grow up here were happy to see that you’ve come back, even if it may be for a few weeks. (That’s if you find a job in time.) But even in a sea of familiar faces, you feel out of place. Ten years spent refusing to contact any of them; it’s only expected that your absence would have you as the odd one out.

And you thought you would be okay with it, for you know that you’ll be going back to Seoul anyway. It’s okay if you’ve lost a home in this town for there was none to begin with anyway—no, there was. It would be wrong to say that there’s no trace of home here when the one person who provided you with that for eight years stands on the other side of the venue. He talks to Haknyeon, Sangyeon, and other faces you didn’t know the names of. The smile plastered on his face is one you haven’t received in a long time.

The waves crash against you; they tip your balance and drag your body into the unknown waters. And suddenly, the murky liquid fills your lungs. The bulbs that hang above you become streaks of yellow, and the ringing in your ears tunes out the music and chatter of residents. And before you know it, your feet are taking you elsewhere—anywhere—so long as it’s far from here.

You’re not sure how long you’ve spent walking, or what path you took. All you know is that you’re back here at the playground—the same one you first met Jacob. You find yourself seated on the same swing; it’s definitely smaller but you make it work. The thumping of your heart is all you can hear, and your eyes shut close. A shaky breath leaves you.

Swing. Chain. Steel. Tray. Silver. Jewelry. Sapphire. Blue. Water. Sand. Sun. Warmth. Home—Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. It always goes back to him. Your eyes peel open and they settle on the red slide a few meters away from you.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Slide. Red. Plastic. Short.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. You repeat the action.

The palpitations start to subside, and you can hear your breath become steady. Your brain is exhausted. Today, the waves were stronger—you can only hope the current dies down.

“Why are you here?” Your heart jumps at the sudden voice. As you look at where it comes from, you see Jacob whose hands are tucked in his pockets. His expression is laced with some emotion—you can’t pinpoint it.

With his eyes staring back at yours, you can’t help but feel the need to spill it all out—fears, worries, the ugly truth about you. Maybe it’s the effects of your recent attack that have you in your most vulnerable state, but all you know is that you would do anything to go back to the way things used to be. All you want is to find that piece of home in this godforsaken town.

But your silence is enough to make a frown appear on his eyebrows, and you remember that this isn’t the Jacob you first knew. In front of you is a distant one—the realistic version of the house you’ve run away from—and you’re snapped back to your hardened state.

“I didn’t know we were talking.” The tone is harsh; the venom laced with your words shocks you. You notice how Jacob flinches at your response, and you wish you could take it back��I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that—but he doesn’t allow you to talk.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone.” He tongues the inside of his cheek. “I don’t even know why I bothered following you here,” he mumbles; it strikes a chord within you, and you stand up.

“What’s with you? Why do you suddenly have this attitude with me?” Your frown gets deeper with every question you throw at him. Jacob used to struggle with his anger issues, you know that, but he found ways to resolve it around middle school. Jacob, who used to have a short fuse, turned into one who knew how to control his patience; it seemed like he lost that control over your years away. The boy in front of you almost seems like the version you first knew all while being one you had no clue—a living oxymoron. “I mean, what did I do to deserve this?”

With that one question, something in him snaps. The frown gets deeper, and his hands leave his pockets. “Are you seriously asking me that?” He crosses his arms. “How do you expect me to talk to you after what you did? To someone who just got up and left?” Your face starts to relax, and you only stare at him—the one boy you’ve upset and disappointed the most.

“Y/N, you left with no message!” His hand reaches out to his face, covering his mouth for a moment as he looks away. “You didn’t even bother to keep in touch! How can you change your number right after leaving?” His eyes meet yours; they’re filled with anger, frustration, regret. “I can’t believe you would throw years of friendship away.”

Thunder sounds within you. “Jacob, you of all people know why I left,” you scoff. “Don’t make this about you. I had every reason to leave and you know it, so don’t try to turn this whole situation about you.”

An exasperated sigh leaves him. “You can’t just come back here, ten years later, and expect me to be okay! I have every right to be upset by your disappearance.” He clenches his teeth. “You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“I didn’t have the choice—”

“No, you always have the choice. Don’t try to play that card with me right now.”

Lightning strikes within you; it rumbles and shakes the ground. The river moves at a rapid speed, enough to leave bruises if you were to dip your feet into it. And the fire within you continues to grow, causing everything to erupt into flames. It didn’t matter if Jacob was right or wrong—all you know is that you’re upset with him.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me without being pissy about it, then let’s not talk. I’m going home.” His angered expression falters. “Handle the party yourself.” Before he knows it, you take your leave. It’s possibly the worst thing you could do. You knew they were low on manpower, but you could care less about anyone, about him, for the matter.

With your back turned towards him, you walk to the house you were forced to stay in. And with every step, the sea level rises. The walk back is a tough journey; every step in high levels of water makes it difficult. And when you stand in front of the building that reeks of a scent only you can smell, you wish the water would fill your lungs and submerge your body—it’ll take you away from this place, after all. In this town, not a single trace of home exists.

#works of moni #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #the boyz #jacob bae #the boyz x reader #jacob bae x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #jacob bae angst #jacob bae fluff #of guitar strings and peeled tangerines (i’ll bruise my fingers just for you)

54 notes · View notes

depressopax · 10 months ago

Note

First of all. Love, love your writing! It's so good!

Secondly, if I may request some Mike ehrmantraut headcanons with a lover(reader) who is about his age. Who is just as hardened by life (they both work for Fring) but is soft with Mike when the two get close. Thank you<3

Heyyy! THANK YOU SM for your kind words! 😭❤ I'm so glad you like my work ahhhh <3

And thanks for the request!! I had so much fun writing this. It's not the type of text and genre I usually write, so it was a fun challenge! Also, I know it said headcanons, but once I started writing I came up with a whole story lol

Hope you like it and have and AMAZING day <333

The things we do - Mike Ehrmantraut x gn! reader

Fandom - Better Call Saul

Pairing: Mike Ehrmantraut x gender neutral reader Genre: Feel good, fluff, hurt/comfort Warning(s): Mentions of grief, unemployment, divorce, mental health and growing up. Cuss words. Reader is gender neutral, is 50 y/o and has two kids. Words: 1K Summary: As close as possible to the request! Reader is turning 50, Mike 60 y/o for this story. - You and Mike have been together for about a year. The two of you share so much experiences and can relate to one another. Both being older and working for Gus Fring, you make a good team, despite the scars from the past... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link

“Hey… Cheer up! It’s your birthday tomorrow.”

Mike says. You turn to give him a tired smile. It’s a rare thing to hear him be optimistic, but you love it.

“Yea… I’m just sour because she can’t be there.”

Your daughter is a free soul, ever since she was a kid, she had dreamt of a life away from Albuquerque. Now she’s 21 and studying abroad in the United Kingdoms. She was gonna travel back to New Mexico to celebrate your birthday, but with snowstorm chaos and exams coming up, she had to cancel. You’re not angry at her, rather sad, since you haven’t seen her in half a year. You still talk on the phone daily, despite the different time zones. At least you have your son, too. He’s 17, in high-school and lives at home with you, in a beautiful apartment on the calm streets of Albuquerque. You’re a bit paranoid, since you know the dangers of town. In your almost 50 years alive, you’ve seen and met many dangers. Keeping your kids safe has been the priority since. Being a single parent has made you even more protective of them. The divorce between you and your ex was bad and you haven’t heard from them since.

When Mike’s phone buzzes you feel relieved, happy to be distracted from your bitter thoughts. Since Mike is busy driving, you take his phone.

“It’s the boss”

“Can you reply?”

The two of you talk about it so casually, as if working as enforcers for a drug kingpin like Gus Fring is nothing weird. But to you and Mike it isn’t weird.

Working for Gus is challenging and dangerous, so you’re happy to do it together with Mike. You know the risks of the work, but happily do it to provide for your kids. The things you do are for them.

It’s been a year now, since the company you worked for shut down, and left you unemployed and in need of money. The only perks of having a criminal past is the work opportunity Gustavo Fring gave you.

That’s where you met Mike Ehrmantraut, an older ex-cop from Philadelphia, with a past just as fucked up as yours.

At first you didn’t trust anyone in Gus' team, and to be honest? You weren’t really popular amongst your new colleagues. You were one of the oldest assets to the team, and your trust issues made it hard to get along with people. Luckily, Mike was the same. He was only a couple years older and just as “bitter” as you. The two of you went from sitting quietly next to each other, to exchanging a couple words to each other. One day, you took the courage and started a conversation with him, and some days later he kissed you. Since then, you and Mike have been inseparable. He is your partner in crime, literally, tho. You both struggle with guilt from the tasks you’re forced to do, but being together helps you both heal and forgive yourselves.

“It’s just the things we do, for ourselves, and our families”

Mike usually says, giving you the reassurement you need. He’s been in this career for longer than you and knows his way around things.

An odd pair, but still, you like to believe he’s your soulmate.

Mike can be very intimidating, and you too. So the two of you together tend to make people avoid your eyes. Your colleagues see you as the “grumpy old couple”, but to you, it’s the opposite. Mike makes you feel things you thought you could never feel again. He made you believe in love again.

You answer the phone and recaps the completed mission for Gus, who seems satisfied with your work. As you hang up, you look at Mike.

“Fring told us we did a good job. Mission complete, as usual. Wanna celebrate?”

Mike chuckles.

“I thought you didn’t wanna celebrate?”

“I wasn’t talking about the birthday.”

“I think you’re having a mid-life crisis, y/n my dear”

You scoff at his words, even though it’s kinda true, but you can let him know that.

“I just don’t feel like celebrating.”

You don’t need to explain further, he knows what you mean. He doesn’t like celebrating birthdays either, since the loss of his son.

He brings your hand to his lips, making you melt as he kisses your knuckles whilst driving through the cold night in Albuquerque.

The sun almost blinds you when you blink your eyes open. The thin white curtains in your bedroom let in the morning sun. You let out an annoyed grunt. How many times haven’t you promised yourself to change curtains? You yawn as you turn around in bed, facing the left side, which is empty.

“Mike?”

You call out with a low, raspy voice. You start wondering if he had to leave early…

No, his phone is still on the nightstand. The door opens to the bedroom and he walks in, wearing a morning robe which originally is yours. You can’t help but smile.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. Happy birthday.”

Right… Your birthday.

“Let’s pretend I turn 40 and not 50, ok?”

He chuckles.

“Absolutely. I made you some coffee.”

As you get dressed, you get stuck by the mirror for a bit, noticing the love-drunk smile on your lips that doesn’t fade. It’s a change from your usual serious, almost intimidating expression. A good change.

Life hasn’t been easy and apart from the dangerous work for Fring which often makes you question yourself alot. Sometimes you wish that life was more normal, or that you could turn back time and do things differently. But not anymore. You’ve met your soulmates, after everything you’ve gone through.

When you walk into the kitchen, Mike is already sitting in the kitchen, saying something that makes your son laugh. You smile at the sight, and look at your boyfriend, realizing that you love him, and you don’t wanna be without him. He always tells you how you made his life better, but he did the same to you.

As you sit down with them, the thought of celebrating a birthday doesn’t seem to be so bad. You feel at peace.

Crying shaking throwing up I love Mike THE WAY I SOBBED WHEN WRITING THIS 💀

9 notes · View notes

sailoreuterpe · 11 months ago

Text

Brothers In Need Once More

Apparently both of my older brothers are struggling currently. Had I known sooner, I would have put up a post much sooner. Sadly, both brothers have a tendency to suffer in silence–abusive upbringings destroy hope for help. I decided to write up a quick post with both of their information so anyone who is feeling generous has options to help. I’m currently working and sending them money as much as I can. However, I’m in a significant amount of debt myself and I can’t assure them and their children a good holiday without aid.

As usual when I post such situations, I’m open to providing creative returns such as fanart, fanfiction, and so on. Please direct message me here or email me at [email protected] if you’re interested. I like to think that my work is decent and I love to create for others.

Zack:

My brother Zack has been struggling for the last several years. He works 50-to-70-hour weeks at Walmart on a permanently-dislocated ankle and with a host of other chronic health problems. He’s currently on the verge of homelessness again and has very little in the way of financial support. His 8-year-old daughter is the sweetest little girl who loves coloring and Frozen. Zack is an amazing person–generous, kind, and wise. He’s one of my favorite fellow members of the LGBT community and he deserves some stability for once.

Amazon Wishlist (Daughter Only)

Amazon Wishlist (Zack Only)

PayPal

Chuck:

My brother Chuck is currently unemployed due to the winter season. Chuck is an independent contractor and he works so hard, even though his jobs keep falling through. As well, Chuck has two beautiful kids: a 16-year-old and a 11-year-old. Chuck is a great person--hardworking, kind, and moral. He’s another one of my favorite members of the LGBT community and all that he wants for his fortieth birthday tomorrow is for his kids to have a good holiday.

Amazon Wishlist (Christmas)

Amazon Wishlist (Chuck Only)

Amazon Wishlist (Eldest Only)

Amazon Wishlist (Tools Only)

Amazon Wishlist (Youngest Only)

Cash App

PayPal

Venmo: ChuckWeismiller/RedLegRevolution

If you'd rather send money to me, my paypal is right here. If I do get any donations, I'll be splitting them three ways: one equal third to each brother now, and one equal third split in equal halves to give them when they visit at the end of December as a surprise.

I truly appreciate any donations, reblogs, or even just supportive thoughts and vibes! I’m trying my best to help my family with my limited resources and Tumblr has been so kind throughout the years. I love you folks so much and I can’t ever thank you enough.

#Notes by Nikki #charity #donate #donation #donations #amazon #amazon wishlist #mutual aid #donation post #signal boost #boost #support #money needed #mutual funds

7 notes · View notes

wheretheresaway-theresawilliam · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 26: Night One

Word Count: 1610

TWs: Unsanitary (rotting food) mention, emeto mention

⛤⛤⛤

“I heard you were looking for a security guard at the old Freddy’s building, is that position still available?” Michael had called from a payphone, wanting to put as much distance between who he was and who he was trying to portray. His father’s voice on the other side made his hair stand on end. He did not miss it.

“Yes, it is. To whom am I speaking?”

“Mike Schmidtt, I used to work at the Wild Marsh Diner.”

“Why’d you quit?”

“Well, er, I didn’t quit, sir… I was fired. But uh, not for anything incriminating.”

“Hmm. You’re sure you can handle a seven-hour shift, watching cameras, completely alone?”

“Yes sir. Honestly it sounds quite peaceful, compared to the table-waiting shift…”

“Ha. Very good, Mr. Schmidtt. When can you start?”

“As soon as possible, sir.”

“Good. There’ll be a key waiting for you in the restaurant’s mailbox tomorrow night. There’s training tapes and a TV in the office if you think you’ll need them, but it’s rather straightforward in all honesty.”

“Sounds great. Thank you, Mr. Afton.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Schmidtt.”

As Michael hung up, he almost couldn’t believe how smoothly the call had gone. It was time to unveil the truth, once and for all. The next night, he arrived at Freddy’s with a cup of coffee in hand and a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, containing his camera and tools he had borrowed from the mechanics’ shop… just in case he had to tear the very place apart just to prove who the murderer was. He had never been in the security office as a teenager, but it was drastically different from his father’s. William had very obviously personalized his space in the restaurant. This room was as bare and impersonal as one could get. There was trash left on the desk from previous employees, alongside a shitty metal fan and heavy security monitors.

Michael sighed as he set his coffee and bag down before sitting on the rolling chair provided to him, its frayed leather seat haphazardly repaired with falsely gleaming duct tape that squeaked when provoked. Just as he was about to turn on the monitors, the phone started ringing, making him jump. Staring at it, he let it go to voicemail.

Hello?? Hello, hello? Uh, I just wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled on your first night- He pulled the cord out of the wall. He didn’t need a previous guard or the training tapes to tell him what he was doing here. Back at this place. He turned on the monitors and surveyed the layout of the restaurant through grainy CCTV footage. Everyone was in their places. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica on the stage, Foxy in Pirate’s Cove, and Henry’s Marionette in Prize Corner. Henry wouldn’t tell Michael why he had created the Marionette, but he had known about it since its prototyping stage. The cameras covered most of the building, from the main dining hall, to the arcade, to just outside of the restrooms. The only rooms that didn’t have cameras were the kitchen, offices, and the backroom. It had always been locked, and Michael was sure he had never seen an employee enter or exit it.

So that’s where he needed to start; the rooms that didn’t have footage to review. He also knew for a fact that the authorities hadn’t even attempted to open the backroom. He’d save it for last, since he’d likely have to damage property to get in, and if anyone came back to the place that wasn’t him- namely William -it’d be the first tip-off that he wasn’t just your average unemployed sucker. And what had happened to all the guards before him? The missing adults didn’t seem to garner nearly the same kind of attention the missing children had, and even then, it seemed like people were losing hope, even with the more recent cases. Once again, this was why Michael had to do something. He was tired of relying on other people’s incompetence.

Taking a deep swig of coffee, Michael picked up his bag and ventured out to the kitchen. This was the room he had the lowest expectations for, but it didn’t hurt to check. He attempted to turn on the overhead lights but was met with nothing but darkness. He retrieved his flashlight and swept it up and down the tiled aisles, flanked by stainless steel counters, stacked ovens that could make up to fifteen pizzas at a time, and industrial dishwashers. He hadn’t ever been back here, either, but it was about what he expected. Ugh, what the fuck is that smell? Covering his nose, he started toward the back of the kitchen, where the walk-in freezers were located. As he approached, he realized they were no longer on. Despite his gut warning him against it, he cautiously opened the doors. He was greeted by the unpleasant sights and smells of rotting, previously-frozen pizzas and other refrigerated ingredients, leading to a bout of gagging as he struggled to close it away again. That’s fucking disgusting. He really just let this place rot instead of knocking it down, huh? But why?

Next, he visited William’s office. He had already seen enough of the security office, of course. This place was ransacked. Michael shook his head. Why wouldn’t it be? If William had anything incriminating in here, he took it with him. The sense of nausea returned, but it had nothing to do with what he had been subjected to in the kitchen. Suddenly, he froze. A noise had come from the direction of the main dining hall. He’d have to go back through it to check the cameras, so booking it wasn’t exactly an option. His choices were to confront a possible break-in or to continue onto the backroom. Why would anyone want to break into here? With shallow breaths, he poked his head out of William’s office and began creeping down the hall, toward the dining room. Bonnie had disappeared from the stage.

“What the fuck?” Michael whispered to himself. Seeing that the front doors remained untouched, he made his way to the office. There was no way someone had silently gotten in through the back door, stolen Bonnie, and got out without Michael noticing. He glanced at the clock as he slid into the office chair. 2:30am. Three-and-a-half hours to go. Bonnie was standing in the arcade.

“That’s not possible…” His eyes darted back to the monitor displaying the main stage. Chica was walking away. Never in all of his life had Michael seen the animatronics walk on their own. He gulped down the rest of his coffee in shock. But that’s what the animatronics at Circus Baby’s did, didn’t they? Circus Baby, Ballora, Funtime Freddy, and Funtime Foxy all had the ability to free-roam, both around the facility and in people’s homes and backyards for parties. Had William been testing this idea since the beginning, with these animatronics? Michael recoiled from the screens. Freddy was staring directly into the camera. Freaking out, Michael slammed the doors on either side of the office tightly shut. He couldn’t stop swearing to himself under his breath, entranced by what was unfolding on the screens. He watched until they all disappeared from sight, all of them except for the Marionette, who had not moved from its box. He suspected they had gathered in the kitchen, somehow aware of the cameras trained on their every move.

He scrambled for his camera. Surely he was hallucinating, right? Perhaps he was less prepared for revisiting this less-than-wholesome place than he initially thought. Still, he crept out of the office once more and made his way toward the kitchen. Without looking, he lifted his camera to the porthole windows in the kitchen doors. Hands shaking, he snapped a picture, then yelped as he realised the flash was on. He dashed back to the office and slammed the doors closed once more, gasping as the polaroid drifted to the floor. He didn’t want to pick it up. He didn’t want to see them all aware that he was spying on them. He stood there, trying to breathe normally, until it struck him just how stupidly he was acting. What was there to be afraid of, if this was just circuitry doing what circuitry did? He punched himself in the arm, then immediately regretted it. Seething, he picked up the photo.

A multi-coloured blur stared back at him. Besides the brown, yellow, purplish-blue, and red of the animatronics, there were what appeared to be black, hazy blobs hovering around them. He wanted to dismiss it as an error with the camera, but he couldn’t bring himself to toss it into the wire waste bin under the desk. Instead, he tucked it into his jeans pocket and sat back down. Anxiety quietly rolled around in his stomach as he laced his fingers together and stared at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes again, his watch was beeping. 6:00am. Thank fuck. He picked up his things and entered the main dining hall, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He looked back at the main stage. Everything had returned to normal. He rubbed his eyes again, just to be sure, then went out to his car. He rested his forehead against his steering wheel, beginning to drift off again until he accidentally leaned into his horn, blasting himself awake.

Well, Mikey. You made it one night. Will it be you or the case that cracks when this is all said and done? He shuddered and returned home.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #michael afton #accursed heritage au

1 note · View note

buckybarnesthehotshot · 2 years ago

Text

Not A Driver (Daniel Ricciardo x Driver!Reader)

|ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ|

summary: she doesn’t date her fellow drivers. he’s no longer a fellow driver.

word count: 522 (this was all my fleeting motivation could manage)

warnings: not proofread, mentions of daniel retiring, mercedes!reader

“Daniel!” she exclaimed in the middle of his interview, holding her hand out to reporters in an apology as she wrapped her arms around her fellow driver, burying her face in the crook of his neck. When the adrenaline from the race had begun to wear off, she was hit with the realization that she just had what must have been her last race with the Australian.

“Well, this is new,” he chuckled sadly, wrapping his arms tightly around her, burying his nose in her messy hair. It was then she started shaking as she sobbed into him, “Hey, hey, it’s alright.”

“It’s not, though,” she mumbled quietly enough only for them both to hear, holding on tighter to him if it was possible, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“We don’t get a say in that, though,” he muttered, running his hands absentmindedly through her hair. An idea hit him, “Remember what you said all those years ago?”

“I’ve said a lot of things to you over the years,” she chuckled, pulling away. Daniel looked over to the cameras, ready to take what may be his biggest loss or his biggest win in Formula 1.

“You know, you’re pretty cool,” Daniel muttered, walking alongside the Mercedes driver, “I mean, yeah your team kicks my team’s ass all the time and that’s a bit frustrating, but I think you’re pretty cool, y/n l/n.”

“I think you’re pretty cool too, Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Do you maybe want to go out with me? On a date?”

She skidded to a stop, a tentative expression on her face. She huffed, “Daniel, I don’t want you to take this personally in any way, okay?”

“Ah, I know a rejection when I see it. It was worth a try, though.”

“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just that I don’t feel comfortable going out with another Formula 1 driver that way!” she rushed out an explanation, “It’s just easier on the competition, and I don’t get scrutinized by the media that way. I mean me being friends with a Red Bull driver’s bad enough, you know? I hope you understand, though.”

“Oh, right, for sure,” Daniel nodded in understanding, plastering a smile back onto his face, “We can still be friends, though, right?”

“Definitely.”

“I mean, maybe when we retire—”

y/n let out a laugh at this, nodding, “Sure, why not.”

“It was something along the lines of you agreeing to go out with me when we retire,” he reminded her with a small laugh, “And well, you may not be retiring, but for the foreseeable future, I am, and well—”

“Daniel—”

“I want to ask you that same question from all those years ago,” he chuckled, jokingly getting down on one knee, “y/n l/n, 11-time Grand Prix winner, will you let me be your Formula 1 HAB?”

“HAB?” her brows furrowed, confused.

“Husband and/or boyfriend,” his heart fluttered as a smile made its way towards her face, “So, what do you say?”

“Dinner tomorrow night,” she nodded, helping him up with a wide smile, “I’m paying though since you’re technically an unemployed HAB now.”

F1 TAGS: @errrrrat / @ricsaigaslec / @veronicapaula / @buendiabebeta / @abditory-77 / @navia3000 (taglist open)

DR3 TAGS: @a-distantdreamer (taglist open)

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo #F1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #Formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 x you

691 notes · View notes

kyun-toast · 3 years ago

Text

[ATEEZ] Mafia!San - Will You Join Me?

word count: 2.9k warnings: explicit language, gun use, violence, description of death (not explicit), sexually suggestive, gets a lil steamy summary: cupid has a bullet with your name on it a/n: Y/N a little dramatic and San annoying af. I wrote this in a two hour flash at 2am, so this might be deleted after I reread it tomorrow because I’m pretty sure a lot of this is just me chatting shit.

1. Yoon, David – 12:45 Note to self: likes donuts. probs dunkin’, maybe krispy? idk just look for a man w a paper bag.

“I’ll have to warn you though, the lift is under maintenance, so you’ll have to take the stairs.” The receptionist smiled at you sympathetically. “I can get someone to help you with your suitcase if you’d like?”

“Oh no, it’s ok, I’ll just find another place to stay. I have weak knees anyway.” You forced a laugh and hoped the lady didn’t notice the dead look in your eyes.

“I’m sorry about that, love.”

Turning away with your suitcase in tow, you headed towards the building opposite the hotel and hoped that the rooftop would be easy enough to access.

It was quite irresponsible of you not to have a backup plan. It seemed that being named the sharpest shooter in the underground world had gotten to your head a little, but you argued that a bit of spontaneity never hurt anybody. Though your target would beg to differ.

Being a public building of offices, it was all too easy for you to reach the roof of the building. You found that walking with your held head high and gaze set straight ahead would never get you questioned. Who would ever stop someone with a walk so confident?

Thankfully, the rooftop hadn’t been turned into some garden space: an air-conditioning fan over here, a water tank over there. You checked your wristwatch reading 12:40 and muttered under your breath. The damn hotel lift had taken precious minutes of your time and compromised your view.

You opened your suitcase to set up your sniper, giving your little black cat charm on the side of your gun a squish. Cute.

Sitting on the case with your stock snug against your shoulder, you peered into the scope to get a closer view of the revolving doors to the bank. Oh great, there’s a lamppost in the way.

Mr. Yoon was apparently quite the punctual man, always seen stepping into the bank doors after his lunch break at exactly quarter to one and therefore, your window of opportunity was thin.

“I want it done today or you’re getting sniped yourself, Y/N.” You heard the voice of your boss yap in your head again. Blah blah blah, same old threat. You argued that procrastinating the man’s death was actually something very considerate of you to do.

You heard a familiar clatter of metal hit the floor and you turned your scope to the rooftop opposite to see a man in overalls with his toolbox open on the floor.

“Lift maintenance guy?” You muttered to yourself and wondered if the mechanics of elevators ran all the way through to the rooftop. You made sure that you wouldn’t be in his line of vision and swivelled back to your original position, cursing the man under your breath for ruining your first choice of setup.

12:44

“Come on, Yoon. Lunch time’s almost over.” Your finger lay restless on the trigger, itching to get a glimpse of the bank teller.

20 seconds.

“Krispy or Dunkin’ what will it be today, entertain me.”

10 seconds.

You saw the man turn the corner and waited for him to get a little closer for you to shoot.

5 seconds.

“That’s it, just past the lamppost and you won’t even know what hit y- what the FU-?” You shouted and quickly clasped a hand to your mouth. Mr. Yoon hadn’t even made it past the post, and he was already laying on the pavement in a growing pool of blood.

Calculating the angle in which he was laying, you spun your vision around to the hotel rooftop and saw the maintenance man begin to pack up a sniper back into his toolbox. Taking off his cap, you noticed a flash of white in his jet-black hair and just like he knew you were watching, he turned with a smug grin on his face and shot you some finger guns.

“Oh, you little fucker.” You spat, and watched the man jump down into a hatch to disappear.

You slumped dramatically onto the floor and splayed your limbs to stare blankly at the sky. Never in your life had you ever missed a shot, let alone have it stolen by someone else, and your boss had your phone ringing to rub it in your face.

“That wasn’t you, was it?”

“Listen, what if? You know, what if that was my thirteenth reason? I just couldn’t take it anymore and that was it. No more Y/N. You wouldn’t even come to my funeral, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t because you’d be too broke to have one. You realise you’re not getting paid for this?”

“Why? He’s still dead?” You sat up in disbelief.

“Well, it turns out someone else wanted him gone too. I can’t lie to our client and say that we did it.”

“You’re oddly moral for someone that runs a hotline for hitmen.”

“I’ll call you if I find you another job.”

“Justice for freelance contract killers.” You muttered weakly as he ended the call. The faint sound of police sirens filled the air as you let out a heavy sigh and lay back on the concrete.

You pictured the man and wondered who it was that would even think to render the notorious Y/N L/N jobless. Though you did have to admit that it was a clean shot.

“Skunk-hair looking ass.”

2. Kim, Seungho – 18:00 Note to self: babysitting. easy target but kid knows NOTHING.

You were stationed by a corner window in an unfinished apartment building with a trainee by your side, setting up his kit.

Stood by the trainee, you scanned to see if everything was in the right place, checking the kid’s posture too. You had been sent by your boss to reluctantly train a young recruit and you joked if you had been demoted following your last predicament. You were never in it for the money though, you lived for the adrenaline.

The boy had potential and you saw it, he just needed to make cleaner shots because three bullets somewhat near the target’s vital organs wasn’t going to cut it.

“What’s your name again?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The recruit replied, his eyes never leaving yours, in absolute awe.

“Eyes on the scope.”

“I’m sorry, nobody told me I’d be getting trained by you. The Seoul Shooter? Like wow.”

“Ew, is that what they’re calling me?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s a pretty cool name, they used to call me ‘Jitman’ in my hometown, not very creati-”

You shushed the boy and tapped his shoulder as you pointed to a small figure in the distance.

“You see him through the scope? Now keep your hand steady, never feel as if you’re being rushed. Death works to your schedule.”

“Got it.” Jisung said, following the man with his gun.

“Ok, on 3… 2… 1…”

You heard the bullet cut through the evening air and hit the target neatly through his office window.

“Bro? That was so clean? That has to be one of the sexiest shots I’ve seen in a while-” You began.

“Uhh, that wasn’t me, Y/N.”

Before you could even process what had happened, you heard the rustle of footsteps patter down the stairs behind you. Taking out your handgun, you moved towards the open door to find the same man you had seen on the hotel rooftop stop in his tracks on the landing. Clad in a fitted black sweater and jeans this time, he looked a whole lot more attractive close up.

“You again?” You exclaimed; gun still pointed at the man as he dropped his duffel bag to raise his hands.

His eyes widened, not in shock, but more with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Oh my, it’s Y/N, the Seoul Shooter.” A coy smile painted his lips as he shook his white fringe out of his eyes.

“See, everyone calls you that.” Jisung interjected from behind.

“Shut up, Han.”

“Word around town is that you’ve been unemployed for some time now,” nodding towards Han, he added, “and it looks like the rumours are true.”

“I’ve actually decided to take a break you know? Let the other kids have a chance at making a name for themselves. Bit of charity work.”

“Y/N kinda got demoted because you keep taking their shots.” Han interrupted again.

“Hey, who told you that?!” You narrowed your eyes at the boy. Han Jisung was a smart ass and you vowed then and there that you wouldn’t take on any more training sessions.

You whipped your head back around to the man eyeing your body up and down.

“My eyes are up here, sir. Unless you really wanna get shot.” You spat.

“Well, I’d die a happy man if you were the last thing I’d see.” He smirked in retaliation and studied your eyes carefully. “Well, my job here is done, I better be on my way. Got a big cheque waiting for me.” He grinned as he reached to grab his bag and carry his way on down the stairs with footsteps too light-hearted for your liking.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Jisung asked as you watched the man disappear into the evening.

“I don’t think killing a man for taking my shots is justified.”

“What, and sniping Mr. Kim Seungho just before he gets to feel the bliss of clocking out is?” He laughed. “Do you know what I think, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I’m not going to say anything.”

Han Jisung tormented you the whole drive back to the quarters.

“Y/N and Skunk Man sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes lo-”

Smack.

“Ouch, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just kidding.” He laughed as an idea struck him, “K-I-D-D-I-N-”

Smack.

3. Park, Kiha - 10:32 Note to self: bad man. bad, bad man. but big, big cheque.

Having had your last two shots stolen, mystery Skunk Man was beginning to get on your nerves. You were seething to the point that you demanded your boss give you another job, itching to defend your title of being the finest shooter in Seoul.

Laying on the floor of a rooftop hangar, the man had the gall to pop up out of the hatch to set up his station right next to you, as if you were both on some picnic.

"Nice seeing you here today, Y/N." He said, sitting cross legged to mount a scope to the top of his sniper.

Not even bothering to take your eyes off the target, you muttered, "I got here first, you better back off." voice laced with venom.

"Well I've been promised a cheque too, we're all just trying to get fed around here."

Ignoring him, you glanced down at your watch that read 10:31. Any time now, Park Kiha would be walking through the glass bridge to get to his meeting in the twin building.

Steadying your finger against the trigger, you held your breath and counted down from three, two, o-

"I like your cat charm by the way."

You pulled the trigger only for it to stray a little to the right, still hitting your target, just a little less central than you would have accepted.

You shot up from your position to face the man laying on his side, head propped up against his hand to look at you.

"Do you have something against me? Do I even know you?" You exclaimed, carding your gloved hand through your hair.

"No uhh, but I saw your face on a bounty poster once and thought you were cute." He said, attitude too blasé. "That was a nice shot though, I was going to wait a few more seconds."

"So you saw my picture, and started following me around to antagonise me?"

"Nah, I just happened to be super lucky to have been put on the same cases as you. Big bad men have a lot of people after them I guess?"

Throwing your equipment back into your bag, you watched the man proceed to roll over onto his back with his arms behind his head to look up at the sky.

The mid-morning sun cast a golden glow over his skin and though you spent most of your life working with guns, his uniform and kit next to him looked a little different, almost attractive. They suited him a little too much and you thought that if a sleek sniper were to be personified, it would look exactly like this leather clad man.

"I should ask for your number, the way you're looking at me right now, Y/N."

"Good luck, you won't get it." You turned to step down the hatch as he propped himself up again to watch you leave.

Choi, San – 15:25 Note to self: he’s kinda hot tho :/

So, we had finally put a name to the face. As your boss handed you a folder, you were slightly taken aback at the small ID picture pinned to the top of the file.

“You might be a little happy about this one.” He said, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s been recently recruited by ATEEZ as their sniper. Quite a deadly one too. He was scouted shooting pheasants down in the Namhae countryside apparently.”

“Hmm, how much?” You questioned.

“A million dollars.”

“Excuse me? A mill-?” You choked on the air and composed yourself just as quick to nonchalantly lean against the filing cabinet and look out the window, “I don’t know, he didn’t look a million dollars-worth to me.”

“He hasn’t been in the game long, but man has he taken down some big names.”

Though you didn’t necessarily feel too attached to Choi San, you did think that you were going to miss him a little. It was nice having a friend on your level to spar with.

Who were you kidding? You thought he was hot and that it would be a shame to have to shoot him.

But on second thought, you had been itching for the adrenaline in the trigger again, and the million dollars looked a lot sexier to you than some man.

“I’ll take it.”

San was all too easy to find. He seemed to enjoy hiding in plain sight since no common person would recognize him in the bustling streets of Gangnam. Nestled in the corner of another rooftop, you zoned in on the recognizable black and white hair sat outside on the terrace of a café.

Once you were ready, you repositioned your finger on the trigger and focused the cross hairs on the familiar head. You were steady until San lifted his head and stared right back at you through the scope, sending you a wink.

“Shit.” You muttered, his actions throwing you off and when you repositioned your aim, he had slipped into the crowd, now lost.

“No, no, no, no, no, Choi San, ugh.” Seeing that he knew what you were up to, you got up to pace around the rooftop. Your mind worked nonstop to find an alternate solution but all you could conclude was to go home, stay low and pick another day to continue.

This man had thrown you into the worst slump of your life, but you were somewhat enjoying the chase and you hated to admit it.

The abrupt sound of a closing of a door behind you had everything clicking into place.

“You pretty motherfucker, had this planned, didn’t you?” You laughed.

Upon hearing the cocking of a gun, you turned to pull out the throwing knife strapped to your thigh and pulled his body in by his collar to reach his throat. And it just turned out that San had the same idea in pushing his handgun up underneath your chin at the same time, faces a little too close.

“I like your beret.” San said candidly, jerking his brow up at the hat on your head.

“Me, too. It’s Marine Serre.”

“Nice choice.”

“I’m going to count down from three and we’re going to drop our weapons, ok? And talk this out like adults because I for one, didn’t wanna kill you.” You bargained.

“Sure.”

“Three, two, one!” The both of you pulled away for a split second in bluff only to reposition your weapons against each other’s throats again.

“I knew it.” San smirked.

“No, for real this time. I mean it.”

“Go ahead, baby.” He smiled as his gaze dropped to your lips.

“Three, two, o-”

San cut you off by leaning into your lips, placing onto them a kiss so intense, almost mirroring the violent nature of the situation. However, what surprised you more was that you let yourself melt back into him. He let his gun clatter to the floor to walk you backwards into the wall behind, hoisting your leg up around his waist.

You broke away from the kiss for air when he smiled, “I mean, it is kinda hot, but I would appreciate it if you could stop holding that knife against my throat right now, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine.” You muttered as San leaned back in to kiss you whilst roaming his hand around your thigh, ridding you of the rest of your knives and smirking against your lips in satisfaction.

Feeling his bulge grind between your legs, you both only grew more fervent for each other as you kissed.

“Wait, I wanna take you on a date first.” He pulled away to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Mhmm, to Bar 1117.” He hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t that your company’s place…?”

“Yeah, they’re gonna love you.” He whispered, peppering small kisses down your throat.

“Are you trying to recruit me or fuck me, San?”

"I mean, you can kill me now and leave for that million dollars or you can come with me for a new job and that million dollar dick."

"You're unbelievable."

“I heard you were doing freelance anyway, baby.” He looked into your eyes again, a mischievous glow blooming across his face, “So, will you join me?”

disclaimer: San’s pie chart hair is one of my all time faves but I also can’t stop thinking that it looks a little skunk-like. In the cutest way. a/n: I've edited this a lot since I posted it and I think I'm gonna keep it

Mafia AU Masterlist

423 notes · View notes

camels-pen · 2 years ago

Text

Spirit Halloween

Ectoberhaunt day 13 - Restored & Abandoned

Summary:

Darren walked in on October 31st, unemployed and hoping to chase her problems away by focusing on looking sharp for trick-or-treaters.

Darren walked out on August 10th, starting a part time job the next day and trying to figure out how to tell her family and friends she was kidnapped by a haunted retail store.

Ao3 Link

Attention all shoppers, Spirit Halloween will be closing in 5 minutes. Please bring your final purchases up to the register and—

Darren turned up the sound on her earbuds, drowning out the rest of the announcement. She under her breath as she held up two different ties—one comically large and yellow with colourful spots and the other with a bandage design and a mummy’s face on the bottom.

Which would be better to greet trick or treaters with? The clown tie was a classic, but the mummy tie brought finesse, novelty. It was something new and exciting—a type of tie design she hadn’t seen before.

Darren took her time weighing her options. She walked over to the floor length mirror at the end of the aisle and held up each tie to her shirt. They both looked alright. But which to choose…

She hummed to herself and checked the prices. Only a dollar each? Maybe she should just buy both and use the other one for next year.

Darren checked the time. Oh shit, she better get going if she wanted to catch the bus—

Something pulsed in the back of Darren’s brain.

She hissed. Fuck, she better not be getting a headache. She doesn’t have anymore Tylenol in her bag.

A skull mask dropped in front of the mirror. She turned to look around for whatever kid threw it, but she noticed the store was deserted.

Shit. Darren really hoped she didn’t get locked in.

She was about to go check the door when the shift of cheap plastic caught her attention.

The skull mask on the floor twitched. Then it shot into the air

Oh hell no.

Darren booked it to the doors, but skidded to a stop when the skull mask—a basic black and white painted mask, but with glowing green eyes—appeared out of thin air in front of her.

Fuck. Shit. That’s a ghost, oh my god.

“Please wait. I still need to give you the job offer before you leave.”

Uhh, Darren was not computing. “Job offer? Doesn’t Spirit Halloween close down today or tomorrow?”

“Oh no, this store never closes down. I simply travel through space and time to the next available abandoned building within a reasonable timeframe before Halloween.”

“You—uh—excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” The skull mask cleared its throat. “Now, I am fully prepared to hire you for today and have you come in tomorrow for a shift, but I’m open to negotiate the terms.”

“Why—? A job offer? Who—?”

“Oh, didn’t you see the sign?” A sign materialized beside the mask and Darren read it over. It mentioned staying past closing hours in order to apply for the job opening as well as an offer discussing the baseline pay and—

And holy fucking shit, this job offer was—

All traces of fear left Darren’s being. “You want to hire me for a part-time job, with a full-time salary and benefits?”

The skull mask nodded. “You can take some time to think it over, but get back to me before—”

“I’ll do it.”

The skull mask stayed silent for a moment.

“Are you—?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“And you’re not… upset with me? Usually, the people I offer jobs to are upset with me.”

Darren paused. Thought about it for a moment.

“I mean, I’m a little upset because I probably missed buying the pre-releases of a couple games—oh and missing some holidays and birthdays with family and friends—but this is a stupid good offer that I’m definitely never going to find again… so—” Darren shrugged.

“Oh,”—Darren assumed that if skull masks could blink, the ghost would be doing that—“Well, then, I’ll send you the appropriate paperwork and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Darren saluted the skull mask—who was now Boss Skull Mask in her brain—and left, contemplating her new job and how to explain all this to her family and friends and—

Holy fuck where—?

“Oh, apologies, we’re about two miles north of the last location,” Boss Skull Mask called from the store.

Darren sighed in relief and waved her goodbye before starting the trek to the nearest bus stop.

#danny phantom #Ectoberhaunt22 #EH order #EH chaos #day 13 #restored #abandoned #nemo the writing ho

13 notes · View notes

izumi-fanclub · 3 years ago

Text

A3! Event Story Translation “SSR Family” [ Chapter 10 ]

The long-awaited play finally begins!

Game Friend

“Eight, you must be unemployed if you’re here all the time.”

Eight

“Don’t you know the time difference?”

Game Friend

“Where do you live?”

Eight

“It’s morning over here right now.”

Game Friend

“So where do you live?”

Eight

…I’m going to bed.

“I’m gonna go and eat breakfast.”

Game Friend

“See y—”

Eight

Sigh.

Assistant AI

“Zero incoming calls, and two texts.”

Eight

What texts?

Assistant AI

“This is the first text.”

“Thank you very much for your interest in our company.”

“As a result of our deliberation on your application, we regret to inform you that—”

Eight

Next text.

Assistant AI

“Thank you very much for your interest in our company.”

“After carefully reviewing your application, we are very sorry but—”

Eight

I’ve heard enough.

Assistant AI “Understood.”

Eight

It’s not like I was expecting anything, and I’m not ready to work yet, so it’s fine.

Assistant AI

“There are four new job openings. Would you like to apply?”

Eight

Nah, I’m good.

I’m in no rush to be snatched away by a black company again. I’m just a mass-produced disposable item.

What’s the point of me living anymore…? I’m estranged from my parents, I have zero friends, and no one would be sad if I disappeared tomorrow…

I just wanna reset everything.

Reality is a shitty game, that’s for sure. But in the world of VR—

User A

“Eight, you’re so cool!”

User B

“You’ve got such a handsome voice~”

Eight

“Thank you for coming to see me again today. I have something important to do later, so I’ll be leaving early. See you later.”

User A

“Bye-bye!”

User B

“See you later!”

Eight

“Let’s see, the room assigned by the office is… here?”

Announcement

“This is a members-only room. Participants will be matched… You must be Eight. Please come in.”

Eight

“I wonder what the story will be. I’m hoping for a major debut, after all…”

Ritsu

“Hello.”

Eight

“Ah, heya…”

Ritsu

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ritsu.”

Eight

“Ah, could you be from Salon Citron?”

Ritsu

“Eh? You know about me?”

Eight

“You’re famous.”

Ritsu

“Thank you.”

Eight

“You were invited too, Ritsu-san?”

Ritsu

“Seems like we’re not the only ones.”

Nero

“Huh~? Who are you guys?”

Blanc

“I know who you are. Over there, you’re Ritsu-san, right? I’ve heard of Salon Citron before.”

Ritsu

“Hello.”

Eight

“Wait, aren’t you two Nero and Blanc from the channel Monochrome!?”

Nero

“And you?”

Eight

“Heya, the name’s Eight and I have my own channel too.”

Nero “Eight who~?”

Blanc

“Never heard of you.”

Eight

“Haha, s’that so.”

Uryu

“Looks like everyone’s all here. I’m Uryu, the office president, producer, and designer.”

Sol

“Sol, the composer here.”

Uryu

“The reason I asked you all to come together like this is because I want to make a unit out of the four of you.”

“The concept is family. Eight is the father, Ritsu is the mother, Nero and Blanc are the children.”

Eight

“A family unit!? Us!?”

Ritsu

“That’s a concept that’s never been done before.”

Nero

“Hah~? Why would we even be friends?”

Blanc

“I mean, we’re already popular enough as it is, I don’t really think we need a new unit right now.”

Uryu

“I think it’s a good idea to try something new around here, what do you think?”

Eight

“I’m in! I wanna do it!”

Ritsu

“Hmm~ I think the idea is interesting, but…”

Nero

“No way.”

Blanc

“No thanks.”

Sol

“They’re like a set.”

Uryu

“Then, can you summarize your opinions at the family meeting for now? I want to follow the process of becoming a family together, documentary-style.”

*Uryu and Sol leave*

Nero

“This is a waste of time.”

Eight

(...I’ll never get another chance to form a unit with those popular twin V-tubers, Nero and Blanc.)

(If I want to make it as a V-tuber, then I don’t wanna miss out on this opportunity.)

“Let’s start a family meeting for the time being, then.”

Blanc

“We don’t need a meeting. We’re not doing it.”

Nero

“Playing pretend family is ridiculous, isn’t it? I don’t wanna be family with you guys.”

Blanc

“Well, for the sake of the argument, I can still get Ritsu-san. She’s very well known. The reason why you got approached was because of your connections with Uryu-san being your designer, right?”

“The users love you for your advice on their problems, so it’s understandable that you’re playing the role of a mother.”

Nero

“But why is Eight playing the father figure? There’s no way they’d accept an anonymous guy who doesn’t have profitable achievements backing him up.”

Eight

“That’s harsh… What do you think, Ritsu-san?”

Ristu

“Hmm, I think it’s gonna be difficult to work as a family unit with this kind of atmosphere.”

Nero

“Welp, that’s it then. See ya~”

Blanc

“Peace out, bye~”

*The twins leave*

Eight

“Ah, wait—”

Ritsu

“Well then, it’s time for me to stream Salon, so I’ll be going. Don’t get too discouraged.”

Eight

“Wait! Hey, isn’t this a good opportunity for you too, Ritsu-san? If you team up with Nero and Blanc, you’ll become even more famous—”

Ritsu

“I’m not really interested in fame. I just want to have fun with my friends… Sorry.”

*Ritsu phases out*

Eight

“Are you kidding me… I really thought I had a chance.”

“No, but there’s still room for persuasion, right? For now, I’ll plan on asking Ritsu again, I still have some hope for her...”

“I’ve never seen Ritsu’s Salon Citron before. I should go watch it.”

Yukio

(Heh… It sure is an interesting worldview.)

Izumi

(A world where VR space and reality intersect! The visuals Kazunari made are really cool.)

(Itaru-san also gave out a lot of detailed instructions. It’s all thanks to those two.)

Eight

“Hey, hey, Ritsu, you're Ritsuro from Kitanaka, right!?”

Ritsu

“...Eh? What are you talking about?

Izumi

(After watching Ritsu’s stream, Eight realizes that Ritsu was his friend from his school days…)

Eight

“No, I’m sure I’m right. You were talking about Kitanaka in the video, and about things only Ritsuro would know about.”

“I’m Eight from Kitanaka. We played a lot together.”

Ritsu

“Sorry… but don’t you think you’ve got the wrong person? He’s a guy, right?”

Eight

“That’s true, but… If it’s Ritsuro, then it wouldn’t be strange at all if he was the person behind Ritsu…”

Ritsu

“Honestly, even if you tell me we know each other, it’s easy to lie about your identity and real appearance in VR...”

“I can’t believe you at face value.”

Eight

Ahh. I thought for sure that if Ritsu was Ritsuro, he would accept the idea of a family unit.

Without VR, I’ll just be another mass-produced and disposable item again…

I have to be prepared. If we can’t talk openly, I don’t think we can be a family.

Eight

“Ritsu, can we meet and talk sometime soon in real life? You’ll get it if you see me in person. Whether I'm really Eight or not.”

Ritsu

“No, of course I—”

Eight

“Please. If you see me and think you don’t know me, you can go home without telling me who you are.”

Ritsu

“Then…”

Eight

It’s been about three years since the last time I went outside… sigh… Here goes.

Eight

Wow, I don’t know where to look. My walking’s fine, right?

Ritsu

Eight…?

Eight

Yo, it really is Ritsuro.

Ritsu

And it really is Eight.

Eight

I haven’t been out in three years.

Ritsu

You’re a shut-in?

Eight

Yeah. I quit the company I last worked for, and I've been like this ever since.

Ritsu

I can see that…

Eight

Honestly, I thought I wasn’t worth anything.

But when I started working as a V-tuber, I had a lot of fun. I felt human again.

I know it’s weird to feel human again in VR. But that’s what I think.

I don’t want to think that everything in that world is a lie. It’s an important place to me.

I want to continue living in that world. So, please. Please work with me as a family unit!

Ritsu

Eight… you’re the same as ever… It's alright. I don’t think we’ll be like family right away.

But, I’d like to try it with you, Eight.

Eight

Thanks.

Ritsu

But before that, we need to persuade Nero and Blanc.

Eight

Yeah!

Izumi

(Like Itaru-san, Citron-kun also vividly expresses the differences between real life and VR space. It looks fun.)

Eight

“Nero and Blanc’s Monochrome channel is really popular.”

“It’s an extreme case, but I get why they’re a project that attracts a lot of attention.”

Ritsu

“The two of them also design the thumbnails and edit. They’re multi-talented.”

Uryu

“Yup~ They have have good heads on their shoulders. They’re popular with the youth.”

Sol

“I like their song selections, too.”

Eight

“I can’t believe how completely comfortable the two of you are in here.”

Uryu

“Pot, meet kettle.”

Ritsu

“Now that Eight has taken up some residence here, I feel like we’ve formed a solid group of people. Before it was like a madam’s salon.”

Sol

“Are we in the tea room right now?”

Eight

“It’s all ‘cause of me.”

Ritsu

“By the way, I was wondering, what’s the tea you’re drinking, Uryu?”

Uryu

“I made it recently.”

Sol

“That’s nice. I want some too.”

Eight

“This is some high-quality stuff, and for what.”

Ritsu

“Then I want black tea flavor in a teacup that’s on a separate plate.”

Eight

“You’re trying to get me attached to the salon. I’ve got to think of a way to persuade Nero and Blanc.”

Uryu

“Those two have a tight-knit relationship, and they’re stubborn. It’s gonna be difficult.”

Eight

“So why did you want to make a family unit out of us?”

Uryu

“I thought it’d be amusing.”

“Well, it’s also because neither Nero nor Blanc trust anyone but themselves.”

“I thought that if they joined a unit, they’d be able to broaden their horizons.”

Ritsu

“Like a distrust in humanity?” Sol

“Something like that. The only things they believe in are each other and money.”

Uryu

“They’re serious about money, aren’t they? I heard they’ve been living together for a long time now.”

Eight

“Wow...”

Blanc

“No matter how many times you ask us, we’re not gonna form a family unit.”

Nero

“You sure are persistent. Well, I understand how you feel but like…”

“It’s an opportunity for Eight, isn’t it~? If you teamed up with us you’d instantly become famous.”

Blanc

“You’re getting a little too desperate.”

Eight

“——”

Ritsu

“You two are going too far.”

Nero

“But it’s true, isn’t it? If it’s not, prove it to us otherwise.”

Blanc

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Why don’t we play a game to decide whether teaming up is worth it or not?”

Nero

“If you beat us, we’ll join the family unit.”

Izumi

(Sakuya-kun and Masumi-kun are in perfect harmony. Their twin-like atmosphere is on-point.)

Uryu

“I like the idea of personalized weapons.”

Eight

“I listened to Sol’s battle theme song, but it’s got too much fighting spirit in it.”

Sol “Well, thanks to that we’ll gather much more attention, won’t we?”

Uryu

“The family unit is off to a good start.”

Eight

“But if we lose, it’s game over for our family immediately.”

Ritsu

“Good luck, dad.”

Eight

“The gallery looks amazing.”

Ritsu

“It’s because this is the most important game of the day.”

Eight

“There’s gonna be more.”

Ritsu

“Are you ready?”

Eight

“Of course.”

Nero

“Let’s gooo~☆”

Blanc

“Game start!”

[ READY ]

[ FIGHT ]

Ritsu

“Hah.”

Blanc

“Hiyah.”

Eight

“Haah!”

Nero

“Here.”

Eight

“Ugh.”

Uryu

“It’s a close match against the strongest duo of Nero and Blanc.”

Sol

“I heard Ritsu and Eight were gaming buddies back when they were students.”

Uryu

“I see.”

Blanc

“Aah—”

Ritsu

“Sorry. I can’t lose to my child, right?”

*Blanc takes a hit*

Blanc

“Uuuh…”

Uryu

“Blanc’s down.”

Sol

“She and Eight are really doing well.”

Nero

“Blanc! Crap—!”

Eight

“It’s up to you, Nero. The two of us are gonna pin you down.”

Ritsu

“That’s right.”

Nero

“—Oh no.”

Blanc

“Nero!”

Eight

“...”

Nero

“Why don’t you just put an end to this?”

Eight

“Nope. I think it’s weird to have our family relationship based on whether we win a game against you.”

Nero

“Huh? After all this time, you’re still talking all that—”

*Eight takes a hit*

Eight

“—Ugh.”

Announcement

“Time is up. The number of survivors left is one to one, the match ends in a draw.”

Izumi

(The credits for this battle scene are all thanks to Banri-kun. It looks so powerful and cool!)

(The lighting and sound design are also perfect. I’m impressed that Akashi-kun and Rento-san can make changes depending on the stage scene with this much detail!)

Uryu

“A draw. The family unit’s formation was under the condition that Eight and the parent team will win.”

Eight

“Ahh, well, sucks to suck. I give up.”

Ritsu

“It’s such a pity, Eight.”

Eight

“I’ve done what I can do, there’s no point in holding regrets.”

Nero

“Wait. You can’t call that a win.”

Blanc

“That’s right. If that’s really true, then we’ve lost.”

Eight

“Eh? Well, then…”

Nero

“Fine, we’ll be your family.”

Eight

“For real?”

Blanc “Nice to meet you, papi.”

Eight

“P-papi…?”

Ritsu

“So that means I’m…”

Nero

“Mommy.”

Uryu

“Congratulations on forming a family. Well then, let’s get you guys started on living as a family together. Realistically.”

Eight

“Huh…?”

Eight

I never thought they’d actually make us live together.

Ritsu

My apartment’s about to be renewed so it’s perfect. It’s close to where I live.

Eight

You live in such a fancy condominium?

Ritsu

It’s not that expensive.

Eight

The wealth difference in this marriage…

Ritsu

I’m surprised Nero and Blanc were so convinced.

Eight

I originally lived in the office dormitory, so I’d have to be crazy to turn this down.

Ritsu

I’m sorry to hear that.

Uryu

Welcome to our second house.

Eight

Huh?

Sol

We use it as an office, a workplace, and a second house.

Ritsu

Are you saying you two live together?

Uryu

We need to get some close-up footage, so it’d be more convenient for us if we lived together.

Sol

Yeah, Nero and Blanc were here first though.

Eight

Well, nice to meet you for the first time IRL—

Nero

Don’t talk too much.

Blanc

Don’t try and get involved with us.

Eight

Feels like we’re back to square one…

Ritsu

They’re rejecting you more than they did in VR, if anything.

Eight

Is it even possible to have a family unit like this?

Uryu

Good luck, dad.

Nero

“The debut song is going well.”

Blanc

“We’re number one in the charts.”

Ritsu

“The number of viewers is also increasing. There are even some fans who started coming to the salon because of our family unit.”

Eight

“My personal channel has also increased in viewers.”

Nero

“Well, it’s all thanks to us, right?”

Blanc

“Uh-huh. You should be grateful~”

Sol

I’ll go and cut it now.

Uryu

Yup. Good work.

Eight

Yay us.

Ritsu

Great job everyone.

Uryu

Since it’s a big deal for us and we’re all here, let’s celebrate our debut song today.

Eight

Sounds good to me.

Ritsu

By the way, we haven’t had a family speech or anything yet.

Nero

…Pass.

Blanc

Same here.

Eight

Ah, hey—don’t flip on a dime just ‘cause we’re back in reality.

Ritsu

I think it’s gonna be hard to fix their distrust of people.

Sol

Sure is…

Izumi

(As they continue to work as a family unit, disturbing rumors begin to circulate on the internet…)

Comment

“I heard the people behind Nero and Blanc are from an orphanage.”

Comment

“I heard that they’re criminals running away after committing a crime.”

Comment

“Fr? So that’s why their concepts are so extreme.”

Comment

“I wonder what they actually look like. Does anyone have a photo?”

Uryu

I heard that Nero and Blanc came from an orphanage, but the criminal part is just a hoax, right?

Nero

—What do we do now.

Blanc

We’re screwed. We have to quit being V-tubers.

Eight

Eh?

Nero

If the orphanage finds out, they’ll take us back. We can’t go on.

Eight

I’m sure as V-tubers, you can handle it if you communicate with them and explain it properly.

Blanc

You can only say that because you don’t know anything. That place is only an orphanage in name. It might as well be prison to us.

Nero

If they bring us back, we’ll never be able to go out there again. And our connection with VR will be cut off forever.

Blanc

That’s why we lived without getting involved with anyone so wouldn’t be exposed. Why is this happening…

Ritsu

So that’s why you’ve never trusted people.

Uryu

The bigger this rumor gets, the more likely it is that Nero and Blanc’s orphanage finds out.

Sol

But with all this attention, it’s impossible to stop the commotion.

Nero

We worked so hard to get this far…

Blanc

We were finally free…

Eight

Nero, Blanc…

Izumi

(For the sake of Nero and Blanc, Eight makes the decision to face the orphanage himself…)

Ritsu

Eight, are you serious about going to the orphanage Nero and Blanc were in?

Eight

I’m their father, for the time being.

The world of VR might just be people playing pretend, but I want to prove that that’s not always the case.

It’s just as important to me as reality, if not more.

Nero and Blanc are my sons because of VR, but I really do want to protect them.

If I could become their guardian or something like that, I’d do it. I can’t stand seeing those two so scared.

Ritsu

You’re a good guy, Eight.

I’ll help you out. I understand how important the world of VR is.

My parents’ way of thinking was quite biased, always manipulating me, saying that my desires were ridiculous and strange.

It was painful not being able to say that I liked what I liked.

But Eight, you took it pretty well, didn’t you? I’m really happy about that.

Let’s protect our family together.

Eight

Yeah.

Ritsu

Alright, mom will hire the best lawyer that money can afford.

Eight

Mom sure is strong.

Izumi

(By having Eight and Ritsu negotiate with the orphanage, the safety of Nero and Blanc is ensured…)

Uryu

I didn’t expect you two to go to the orphanage together.

Eight

I’m sorry we didn’t say anything.

Uryu

I would have helped you if you told me.

Ritsu

We figured we could stop it.

Nero Are you sure we’re not going back?

Blanc

We won’t be taken back?

Eight

We talked to them. It’s alright.

Ritsu

You’re in safe hands now.

Blanc

Thank you.

Nero

Thank goodness.

Uryu

Since you two worked so hard, we’ll have to do the rest.

Sol

We’ll have to spend a lot of money on promotion to divert as much attention as possible from Nero and Blanc behind the screen.

Uryu

If we can’t recover from this… I’ll never be able to get rid of this sick feeling.

Nero

“I heard the new song is selling well. Uryu-san, we’re lucky we didn’t flop.”

Blanc

“It’s ‘cause our promotion was all over the place, you know.”

Uryu

“It’s like a bonus from mom and dad’s hard work.”

“Well, thanks to that, we were able to divert the attention to Nero and Blanc. I’m happy with the results.”

Blanc

“Papi, thank you.”

Eight

“NP.”

Nero

“We may be a pretend family, and VR is all about playing pretend, but I wonder if there’s still some truth to it.”

Eight

“Keep up the good work, sons.”

Nero

“Well, unless you’re more popular than us, we won’t accept you as our father!”

Blanc

“That’s right!”

Sol

“Somehow, it’s like a nice family here~ I wonder if I can join too.”

Ritsu

“I guess we could say you’re the estranged brother.”

Blanc

“We have granny Uryu then.”

Uryu

“Hold up, why?”

Nero

“You’re Ritsu’s mama. In a designer type’a way.”

Uryu

“I can’t deny that… But at least say grandpa.”

Eight “Ahaha. It’s fine, isn’t it? A big family is also a good idea.”

Izumi

(The six of them who have bonded as a family… The family-like atmosphere of the Spring Troupe is also overflowing onstage.)

(I’m sure it must've gotten through Itaru-san’s sister.)

*Play ends, audience cheers*

Yukio

Great work, everyone.

Sakuya

Ah, Yukio-san, you came to see our show!

Masumi

Have some tea.

Tsuzuru

Man, you’re so predictable when it comes to Yukio-san.

Yukio

The show this time is about a worldview the youth are into these days, right?

I wasn’t expecting much because I didn’t think it was possible, but it was really interesting.

Tsuzuru

Thank you so much!

Chikage

Where’s director-san, by the way?

Citron

She has not stopped by here yet.

*Phone notification*

Itaru

Izumi

[ I’m taking your sister backstage ]

Itaru

Oh no. The Great Demon King’s Raid.

Izumi

Come on in.

Ryouma

Excuse our intrusion.

Konomi

Good show.

Itaru

Thank you for coming.

Ryouma

It was my first time seeing a stage other than an opera. It was very interesting!

Itaru-kun, of course, as well as everyone else’s performance was wonderful!

Itaru

Thank you very much.

Konomi

…

Itaru

(The silence is killing me.)

Citron

“Honey!”

Itaru

Citron

“I got another bill! What did you charge me for this time!?”

Masumi

“Dad, we’re having bean sprouts for dinner today.”

Sakuya

“I love bean sprouts!”

Chikage

“I have to confiscate your phone for your sake. I don’t know where I went wrong in raising you.”

Itaru

“Jeez, what the hell does this have to do with you, dad?”

Ryouma

Eh…?

Citron

“Honey, you have no choice but to do more lifts at your part-time job!”

Tsuzuru

“Mom, it’s ‘shifts.’”

Konomi

Pfft, ahahaha!

Itaru

Well, there’s a story about today’s show.

Actually, there was a time when everyone in the Spring Troupe protected me like that before.

If something happens to them, I want to protect them, and if something happens to me again, I’m sure they’ll protect me.

So you don’t have to worry about me anymore. As long as I’m with everyone, I’ll be alright.

Konomi

…I wasn’t worried about you or anything.

Rather, I’m here to talk about “Star Crushers.”

Itaru

Oh, yeah.

Konomi

Remember to have an online battle with me after we get to Zahra.

Itaru

You think I’m gonna lose to my sister, who hasn’t touched a game since back then? Get your game on.

Konomi

Let’s recreate that scene from a decade ago.

Citron

Itaru and his sister are exactly like each other!

Ryouma

They sure hate to lose, don’t they?

Yukio

The newborn Spring Troupe is just as nice as an actual family.

Izumi

Yup!

[ Prev. Chap. ]

[ Epilogue ]

#a3! translation #a3 translation #sakuya sakuma #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #citron #chikage utsuki #yukio tachibana

87 notes · View notes

cornflakesdoesart · 3 years ago

Text

hey you all! a little life update/announcement!

(cw for sickness and death)

sorry this sounds so alarming, things are not allright, but I’m okayish, I just don’t know how to explain this in a short way, so I put a read more here

So, I don’t often talk about myself or lifestuff or the world here, but I stil wanted to idk, just let you all know what’s up with me.

I don’t know how to say this delicately or eloquently, my grandfather is dying, he had covid and he got very weak and confused really quickly, me and my grandma tried to take care of him at home, but it was simply beyond our capabilities at some point, he is in the hospital right now, unconcious most of the time.

He was the one who handled all the accounting, bill paying and such in the household, and on top of that he was running a pharmacy, so the last 2 weeks has been spent frantically trying to figure out what needs to be paid and how and how to deal with closing the pharmacy and also paying a lot of bills and dept for the pharmacy as well. My grandpa has been working tirelessly throught the years of the pandemic and the paperwork got really messy.

My father also traveled down to my graparents house, and slowly has taken over of dealing with most of this, but he has to go back to work on monday. My mom would have come here every weekend too but she also got covid after her first visit, so she has been stuck at home, alone.

so summa summarum I’m down at my grandparents house bc my grandpa is dying and there is a miriad things to take care of bc of how suddnely he got sick and an invalid, This is, as you can guess a horrible and stressful situation and so I’m gonna be extra self indulgent with my art, and in general use online spaces as an escapism

I can also stay down here indefinitely bc I’m unemployed, which has the drawback that I’m gonna run out of funds, not immeadeatly, but you know, at some point, my grandma had one saving that was on her name so we could acces it, so our fiancial situation is not desperate, just like, concerning and I gotta be more vigilant about making sure I do have some income.

so if you wanted a print form me or stickers, now I would be extra super grateful for your purchase, but I’m gonna make a seperate post about this i think as well, this got a little long.

I have a kofi too, but pls don’t donate to me more than like, one kofi, if you have funds you can comfortably part with for charity, consider supporting one benefitting Ukraine!

That’s all! I’m doing okay, considering everything. Hope where ever this finds you in the world that you’re as okay as can be in your circumstances!

Edit: I wrote this this morning, we got the call this afternoon, around 5 pm my gradfather quietly passed away in the hospital.I don’t know, I think I’ll delete this post tomorrow, but just wanted it to have current information. I don’t know I’m just so tired and dried up, I can’t even really cry, It was going to happen soon, but it’s still unbelievable.

#not art #text post #life update #cw sickness #cw death

37 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 3 years ago

Text

Voices.

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Genre: nothing but floofy-floof

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: in which you can hear the voice of your soulmate in your head and Y/N's soulmate is someone really special— her celebrity crush.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! do y'all know how long ago I wrote this fic, like— at least 2 years ago. damn. so in advance, im sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes or bad punctuation in the fic that I forgot to correct (apology for bad english 😌)

oh and

bold/italics - chris

only italics - y/n

---

Hey, you still there?

Y/N snapped out of a trance and focused on the voice. Yeah, yeah I'm still there, she thought to herself. She was hearing the voice of her soulmate, or rather, was speaking to him, telepathically. The thing is, you could hear the voice of your soulmate in your head. You could talk, hold conversations, but the only thing was that you couldn't ask for their name.

You had to guess. Most of the people made plans, like let's meet here or there and concentrate hard enough, I'll see your name written on a paper. It was a thing, I mean, if you concentrated hard enough, you could see what your soulmate was doing. It was like a cheat code of sorts. Most of them found their soulmate in that way.

You see, Y/N loved surprises, so she wasn't going to find her soulmate just yet. Y/N wanted to figure it out for herself. Your soulmate couldn't hear every single one of your thoughts, though (which was how she had zoned out mid-conversation). Listen, we should meet up sometime.

Aw, already? she thought with a pout on her lips. Yes, I'm very excited to meet you, I've been waiting for too long, the voice replied, chuckling. It was a manly voice, really deep and raspy. She loved it. When Y/N was small, about 4-5 years old, all she could hear were swear words and dirty thoughts; characteristics of a teenage boy.

From that, she inferred, that soulmate was much older than her, about 8-9 years older than her. She didn't mind, She was kind of into older guys anyway… But I like this game we have! Why do you want to ruin it? she asked, shaking her head. Alright, sweetheart, just for you, I'm holding back. But I don't have much patience, the voice laughed. Y/N smiled.

Without even meeting her, Chris loved the voice in his head. She sounded so sweet and welcoming, maybe she was younger than him. He couldn't wait to meet her. Chris had tried to plan their meeting for so long now, but she just wouldn't give in. She was also a feisty one. He smiled to himself as he walked down the street, engaged in thoughts about his soulmate.

In his haste, he accidentally bumped into someone. "I'm so sorry!" he blurted out, instead hearing a soft ouch, shit in his head. His brows furrowed. The lady he had bumped into just kept on walking. Are you alright? he asked his soulmate in his mind. Yeah, just bumped into someone while walking.

I bumped into someone just now too! he told her excitedly, still staring at the lady who had now stopped in her tracks. She turned around, scanning the crowd. Then she looked at him, but maybe she didn't realize that she had bumped into him. Holy shit, I see— Then it all went blank. See what? Chris questioned desperately.

He still wasn't sure whether the woman he had just bumped into was his soulmate or not.

Why can't I say the name of the guy who played the role of Captain America?

Chris froze and stared at the lady, jaw dropped. She was lost in her thoughts, confused. He slowly walked to her and stood in front of her; she stared back at him, her heart racing. This was her celebrity crush, who was currently looking at her as if she hung the moon. But why? Why was he looking at her like that?

"You can't say his name because that's me, you technically can't say his name because you aren't allowed to," Chris whispered to her, smiling softly. Her eyes widened.

"You! You're the voice I hear in my mind! Chris freaking Evans is my soulmate?! How did I not realize?!" The woman exclaimed, shocked. Soon though, she got a wide smile on her face. His eyes widened too, hers was the voice he heard as well! "What's your name?" he asked her as they hugged. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she replied, smiling.

"Wanna join me for a coffee?" he offered, holding his hand out. She put her palm on top of his and nodded. Both of them entered a nearby coffee shop. "So, what do you do?" he asked her after ordering two coffees. "Nothing. I'm unemployed right now, just got out of my last job. I gave an interview yesterday at Ralph Lauren, just waiting for a call back," she shrugged.

"Oh, into fashion?" he asked her, smiling. "Yeah, got my degree and all. Just needed a job, Ralph Lauren offers a good amount of money," she chuckled. Chris smiled again. "Reminds me of Rachel Green." She laughed more, which warmed his heart. Her laugh was adorable. Suddenly, her phone rang and she looked at him, wide-eyed.

He nodded dismissively and she picked up the call. She spoke for a while and when she ended the call, she had the biggest smile on her face.

"I got the job at Ralph Lauren, I'm starting tomorrow!" Y/N squealed. They couldn't have picked a better timing. "Congratulations, Y/N!" he told her, grinning. After spending some more time at the cafe, they parted ways. She went home while he went back to the sets where they were filming Avengers: Age of Ultron.

"Hi Chris, you were out for a long time, what's up?" Chris Hemsworth asked, smiling at Chris Evans as they stumbled upon each other. "Nothing, just met my soulmate, had a cup of coffee with her." The older Chris feigned nonchalance. "You what?! That's awesome, man! So, how is she, what does she do?" Hemsworth asked him excitedly as both of them walked inside.

Robert and Scarlett were there, talking. "She's so beautiful, I stopped functioning when I saw her. She works at Ralph Lauren, she's a fashion designer," Chris told him with a smile. Robert and Scarlett looked up. "Who?" Scarlett questioned. "Y/N," he said simply, sitting beside Robert. "Who's that?" Robert inquired. "My soulmate." Chris smiled, as if in a trance.

"Boy, you look like you're in love," Scarlett laughed. "Because I am, she's that beautiful," he told her adamantly. "Whoa, did you ask her out?" Robert snorted. "I'm back from our first date." We had our first date right now, didn't we? he asked her in his mind.

Of course we did, I loved it. Hope to meet you again soon, her voice replied and he could practically feel her smile.

Sure, I'm in town for a few more months, I'll mind-text you as to when I'm free, he told her, sporting a smile on his face. She outright laughed in the comfort of her own home. Mind-text? Sounds fun, she agreed and focused on the Netflix series she was watching, turning off the "magical telepathic link" between them.

Chris, too, focused on the others only to see them smiling at him. "Talking to her?" He nodded at Scarlett. A few minutes later, all of them went to another room to begin with the shooting of a new scene.

---

Y/N danced as she prepared dinner, singing along to You Don't Know Me by Jax Jones. It had been a month since she last saw Chris. He had promised her a date, but he didn't get time. She couldn't blame him, he was a busy man. Y/N was shouting the lyrics of the song in her head, unaware of the fact that Chris was snooping in on her mind.

Hey, calm down, she heard Chris chuckling in her mind and shrieked in real life. What are you— are you snooping on my mind? Chris! she thought, scandalized. He laughed more. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wanted to ask you out. Are you free right now? We could meet in the same coffee shop, he asked. She grinned and nodded to herself. Of course, I'll be there in 15.

She quickly got dressed, wearing a pair of track pants and a t-shirt (like she was wearing on their first date). She didn't bother with her hair or makeup, it looked good anyway, she just bolted out of the house. Y/N entered the coffee shop to see Chris already sitting there, wearing a suit. She cursed herself mentally, making Chris look up.

He stifled a laugh. She went and sat in front of him.

"I'm so sorry I look like a single mother of two kids who hasn't slept in a year," she moaned, "I didn't know you were gonna show up in a suit." She facepalmed for good measure. "It's quite alright, you look beautiful. I wouldn't have you any other way, I should say. I'm coming back from a party right now, therefore the suit."

She blushed softly at his compliment. He ordered two coffees for them and they started talking. "So, how's your job at Ralph Lauren?" Chris asked, smiling at her. "It's amazing, I got promoted. Now I'm the head of the department, with my own office and all," she told him, smiling back. "That's great! Oh, congratulations, honey," he grinned.

"Thanks," she muttered, blushing slightly when he called her a nickname. "You look cute while blushing, has anyone ever told you that?" Chris winked as their coffees arrived. "No one, ever. I don't interact with people much, it's a tedious job," she half-joked, smiling.

"Really! So who are the people you talk to?" he joined in. "Well, there's my assistant, my mother, my bro and you. That's all. I've got some friends, but I rarely talk to them, only on the phone while texting, that is," she shrugged. "Nice, nice," he nodded as they finished their coffees. "Allow me to drop you home," Chris offered, taking out a key which she found out was for his bike as they left the café.

"No it's alright, I'll go," she refused immediately. "Nonsense, you're practically my girlfriend! I'm going with ya," he shook his head. They looked like an odd couple; one wearing a suit while the other looked like she had just woken up. Surprisingly enough, the one who looked like she just woken up had the best fashion sense among them. "Hop on," Chris grinned.

She sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Both of them chatted for the 2 minutes that took them to get to Y/N's home. Once they reached her building, she got down from Chris's bike and turned to him.

"Thanks, Chris, this has been an amazing second date. Can't wait for the third," she told him with a smile. "Me too," he smiled back. A few seconds later, she turned to leave but Chris suddenly grabbed her hand, turning her around. "Wha—" She didn't get to finish her sentence as Chris pressed his lips to hers. She kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I just had to, sweetheart," he panted as they pulled away from each other, breathless. "Wow," she breathed out as Chris rested his forehead against hers. "So, um, see you on the third date, yeah?" Y/N giggled as they stepped away from one another, smiling. "I'll make it as quick as possible. Can't stay away from you, darling," he winked.

"How flattering," she winked back and turned to leave, purposely adding a sway to her hips knowing that he was watching. And fuck, was he watching. "Oh, the things you do to me, my dear Y/N."

"I heard that!"

"Good!"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #captain america #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

197 notes · View notes

dalamjisung · 4 years ago

Text

do you ❀ im jaebeom

word count: 1504

genre: slice of life, fluff, unemployed!jaebeom

member: jaebeom x reader

description: all is said and done; GOT7 disbanded. Your boyfriend, however, the leader of the group, knows it’s not the end... it’s just the beginning.

You are not sure what surprises you more; him showing up behind you so suddenly, or the words that follow.

“It’s done.”

In the surprise of seeing your boyfriend in the middle of the afternoon, relaxed smile on his face and crinkling proud eyes, you complete forgot what he left for.

“Are– Are you sure?” Your hand covers your mouth in shock, wide eyes looking for any faltering sign in his, but all Jaebeom does is shake his head and giggle, opening his arms for you to come to him. Congratulate him, comfort him, love him; he isn’t really sure what he is feeling, and you catch on pretty quickly. After six years together, and four in the sharing the same apartment, you know how to read Im Jaebeom like one of the many book in his shelves, and you are sure he is the most beautiful collection of stories you’ve ever read. All of his movements, all of his words– it’s all perfect. His twin moles under his eyebrow, his wide smile that hides his eyes, his longish hair tickling his neck… it’s all perfect.

“Jaebeom, I swear to god if you’re fucking with me I’ll–“

“Just come here already,” He steps forward and pulls you by the hand, kissing you quick and softly. He doesn’t stop smiling for a second of it. “It’s done. We signed it.”

“Oh my god,” You pull away a bit, looking into his eyes. “Are you okay? I know it must’ve been hard…”

“It was the easiest decision we’ve ever made as a group,” He chuckles, arms pulling you closer and closer and closer until you are standing on his feet, laughing as he foolishly walks both of you to the couch. The sun peeks in through the window, almost like it is curious as to why there is so much giggling and hushed whispers coming from your living room, and when the light finally reaches him, you feel your heart so full that it might just explode. “You know how we felt about the agency.”

“But–“

“And no matter what,” He sighs, a fond smile in his face as he gives in to the warm comfort of the afternoon. “We’ll forever be GOT7. But I think it is important for us to grow as people now; not just as idols.”

“I’m proud of you.”

And you think that it’s your choice of words that drags a sob out of his chest. And then another one, and another, and another, and you pull him up to sit and melt into your chest; fingers running through the hair on his neck, caressing all the wight he’s carried over seven years in his shoulders away. It’s a been a long time coming, you’ve known it for a long, long time– all the nights Jaebeom would come home crying because of the CEO, all of the stress he’d put up with, all the disappointment, all of the anger. It is all gone now.

“This is so weird,” He mumble as he nuzzles towards your neck. “Being home this early.”

“Well, get used to it, my love,” You whisper in his ear, and just as you are about to kiss him again, you sneeze. Looking around, you see her, slowly making her way to her owner that is now almost asleep.

Nora swiftly jumps onto the couch and nestles in his chest, and as his hand caresses her back, you move to get up.

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot to take my allergy medication,” You chuckle, quickly grabbing a couple of pills and taking them with water. “Don’t want Nora or Odd to set me off again.”

“Marry me.”

Just as quickly as the water went in, it went out, straight through your nose. Cake, your favorite out of the five, is quick to come inspect the situation, and Jaebeom follows. He is smiling still, hand softly tapping your back in hopes to easy your breathing.

“Why are you so surprised?” He asks, bringing you closer and kissing the top of your head. “I always said I’d propose once I was no longer with the agency.”

“Wha– I; no, I–“

“No?”

“No, I mean, yes! Bu–“

“Then yes?”

“Im Jaebeom!” You screech, turning to look at him. His smile is now a teasing smirk, and you cover your face with your hands. “You… you just left, I didn’t think it would be now or– maybe I just forgot? I don’t know, are you sure? Are you sure this is what you want to do? I have no problem waiting, and–“

“Marry me,” He chuckles. “You’ve waited long enough. You’ve taken allergy pills long enough, and, well, you’ll still have to take them after we get married, but just the fact that you were willing to take them for years just to be with me is… I’m sure. I’ve been sure for years now, but I wanted to wait. I wanted–I want you to be my priority. Babe, I did work, I did idol, I did everything I had to; now I wanna do you.”

“Uh…”

“Not like that,” He blushes, and you swear you see some sweat accumulating in his forehead. His hand, usually steady and calm, are now agitated, fiddling with his rings. “I mean, like that too, but not now… unless you want to! Then I’ll gladly take you to the room and–“

You stop his rambling the best way you can think of. He is quick to respond, lips moving over yours and just letting you take all you want to take, because finally he had no one else to give anything too, anymore. For now, there are no schedules, anymore; no interviews, no reality shows, no rumors, no shows, anymore. For now, there’s just you.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers when you pull away, and you giggle at his nervousness.

“Yes,” You peck his lips, then his nose, then his cheeks. “I’ll marry you. Always.”

“Hopefully one time will be enough,” He breathes out, and from his fingers he pulls out one of his rings– a simple silver band that only fit on your thumb, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered as he slid the jewelry on your finger. “I’ll get you a ring. I promise– I just; I didn’t count on actually having the balls to ask you today and I didn’t prepare…”

“I want this one,” You tell him, thump up in his face.

“No, I can get you something better,” He rolls his eyes.

“But I want this one,” You pout.

“… why are you like this?” He mumbles, kissing you all over. “I love you so much.”

“I love you much more.”

“Well, that’s a blatant lie,” He snorts. “But I’ll let you have this one.”

“Oh, baby,” You follow him to the couch, laying on top of him as the cats got comfortable around you. “You’ll be letting me have all of them. I’m your fiancee, now. Get used to it.”

“Holy shit,” He breathes out and the smile is gone is a second. Suddenly, he is hoisting you up in his shoulders, hand quickly slapping your ass as you yelped in surprise. “Say that again.”

“Put you fiancee down!” You hit his ass too, the blood rushing down to your head making you slightly dizzy. “Jae–“

He throws you on your shared bed.

“Time to do you.”

It’s only on the next day that you truly understand Jaebeom’s ease about this whole ordeal– only when Jackson’s shrill voice wakes both of you up, and when Jinyoung’s disapproving gaze towards his friend lands on you, immediately turning into one of excitement. They drag you both to the living room, once all clothes were put on, and there is Bambam and Yugyeom bickering about Cake’s tiny legs. You hear Youngjae humming something from the kitchen, and you smell breakfast before he can even announce it. There is freshly brewed coffee on the kitchen counter and Mark comes into view with a beautiful bouquet in hands, eyes widening when he sees you.

“Yah!” He shouts, laughing while looking around. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a surprise?”

“How much of a surprise it can be when it on their apartment?” Bambam shrugs, still hugging Cake like there is no tomorrow.

“It would’ve been one,” Jinyoung pitches in. “If Jackson didn’t wake them up!”

“They are just too cute!” He squeals, running to you and hugging you tight. “She’s finally officially in the family!”

“I’ve been in the family for six years, what the fuck?!” You giggle, but hug him back nonetheless.

“Well,” Mark approaches, pulling you towards him in a warm hug. “We’re happy for you. For both of you.”

He gives you the flowers and you look at your fiancee, and the way he smiles is enough for you to know that this is the family you are marrying into. They are not going anywhere, and that is all you could ever wish for a better future with the man you love.

—————————-

Leader Im Jaebeom time! How about it? What do you think? Let me know :D I’m excited to see where JB will go and if the rumours about him signing with my favorite agency ever, AOMG, is true. Once again, thanks for the support lovelies, it means the world for me <3

271 notes · View notes

violet-knox · 4 years ago

Text

The Family Secret

Chapter 3: Deep Breaths

Pairing: Young!Snape x Reader

Summary: You finally make it home, safe and sound, happy to welcome Severus into your family. Finally you feel at ease until you’re woken in the middle of the night.

Word count: 4087

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

Severus had barely any time to sleep before it was your turn to be dropped off, the conductor glaring down the bus in your direction when he called your name. You were too tired to care for the overgrown child holding a grudge on you because your boyfriend was irritable. Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion and it took everything you had to stay awake, telling yourself you were almost there as the bus swerved around the town.

“Sev,” you whispered, lightly shaking his shoulders to wake him. “Severus.”

You heard him groan in protest, he cuddled into your side as if you were waking him to head to class. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled as he hummed in response and for the first time that night, you saw a look of content reflected on his face. He was no longer worried about what you might think of him, whether you’d leave him to the horrors of his family or not. He no longer cared what his parents might do, how they may react. None of it mattered anymore. He’d left Spinner’s End, never to return and for the first time in his life, he knew without a doubt he had someone who cared and loved him back.

“It’s time to go,” you urged him, trying to push him up. Pulling himself off you with a groan, he rubbed his tired eyes, trying to shake off his sleep. He looked worse than he had before he’d fallen asleep, a giant bruise on the side of his jaw making itself apparent and you could only hope that was the extent of his injuries.

“Already?” He spoke like he had the flu, his voice heavy with pain, harsh like his throat was made of sandpaper.

“I’m afraid so,” you chuckled, gently tucking his hair behind his ear, your fingers hovering over his bruise tracing its outline. Your smile slowly faded into a frown, Severus grasping your wrist when he saw the sadness in your eyes. The last thing he wanted was for you to worry over him. Wounds heal, but it's hard to change the way people view others, something he was all too familiar with, and he didn’t want you to see him like some helpless child that needed your protection.

Placing his hand over yours, he peeled it away from his face, gripping it tightly instead, hoping to assure you he was fine. Your eyes met his and you felt your worries melt away as you focussed on him. Severus smiled as he watched your expression soften, relieved you wouldn’t make a big deal over his injuries. Leaning in, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours, his hand finding itself in your hair as he kissed you. You eagerly kissed back, forgetting about last night, forgetting you’d just helped him run away from home and how worried your parents must have been when you didn’t come home yesterday. You focussed on his touch, his kiss, his love for you and left behind any concerns about what was to happen next.

“(Y/L/N)!” Shouted the conductor. You pulled yourself away from him, Severus leaning in to keep your lips connected for as long as possible, a small whimper of complaint escaping his lips as you stood up, pushing back the curtains to find Kipling glaring down the bus in your direction. “Your stop!”

You rose your hand to thank the man and turned back to Severus, raising an eyebrow as you suppressed a laugh. You’d never seen a man as old as Kepling hold a grudge over the way a teenager had treated him, but you found the absurdity of the situation absolutely hilarious and apparently so did Severus. He no longer seemed short tempered towards the man, his mood improved after the short nap he’d taken. There were no words to express the relief you felt seeing him happy, watching the life return to his body.

As Severus took his time to get up from off the bed, you removed the charm on the trunk and pulled on the handle to reveal it from where it hid. Once the bus came to an abrupt halt, Severus took the other side of the trunk and you both made your way off the bus. Kipling glared at you both, arms crossed as you passed him by, saying absolutely nothing when you tried to thank him. The second you’d stepped off the bus, the doors slammed shut and the bus was gone, leaving you in the dark once again.

You shook your head at the insane night you’d had, hoping that your arrival at your destination meant the nightmare was over, that you could both finally get some rest. You glanced over to Severus who looked rather confused, glaring at the house you’d been dropped off at. It wasn’t enormous, but it was large enough for you to know never to mention it to Severus all these years, knowing how he’d feel about your family’s fortune. But it wasn’t just the size of the house that Severus found quite shocking, it was the fact that it was the only house on the street alive at four-thirty in the morning. The first floor was completely lit and he could see movements in what he assumed was the kitchen.

“My father’s a doctor,” you explained as you pushed open the gate and made your way up to the door. You’d mentioned previously both your parents were Muggles, but you’d never cared to share what they did, always avoiding the question when he asked, feeling guilty when he told you his mother was unemployed and his father was a factory worker. You never minded of course, but the way he looked when he told you of his parent’s work status, you could tell he was ashamed.

“What?” Severus looked confused as if your statement couldn’t possibly explain why your house was awake, hoping the reason wasn’t because of him and your choice to stay at Spinner’s End last night. You giggled as you set down the trunk to search for your keys, realizing he had no reason to understand the job of a Muggle doctor. Ever since you’d left for Hogwarts, you’d felt yourself detach from the Muggle world more and more, your parents the only reason you keep in touch

“He works the night shift Thursday through Saturday,” you told him. “He always leaves for work around seven pm and then returns at four in the morning.”

“But why? That sounds like a horrible schedule to keep,” Severus asked, staring at the window where your father’s shadow was shown holding a mug and reading a book. He found it strange for someone to want to work such hours, especially when the entire country was asleep right now.

“He didn’t pick his schedule,” you said as you pushed open the door and pocketed your keys. Severus watched the figure in the kitchen turn towards the sound of the front door opening before setting down the mug and book to make his way into the sitting room. Stepping inside, he helped you carry his trunk inside before you shut the door.

“(Y/N)?!” Severus watched your father quickly make his way into the room, clearly concerned for you. “Where have you been?!”

He’d barely thrown Severus a quick glance before focussing his attention on you. His reaction wasn’t one Severus had ever imagined coming from a parent, his own never glancing twice if he stayed out late so long as he was there in the morning for chores. Your father cared for you, the panic of harm coming your way evident in his eyes. He would have been jealous long ago as he always was when he saw others with their parents, but he felt happy watching him hug you. He wanted you to be loved, to have people worry over you, to have what he didn’t.

“I-I know I said I’d be home by midnight. I’m sorry, something came up. I-” you spoke apologetically, your eyes trying to calm him as you both kept your arms hooked on one another. You peered over in Severus’ direction and he saw the smallest sliver of a smile on your face, like he was part of the family, being welcomed home instead of the intruder he truly was. “Can Severus stay here for a while?”

The man shifted his glance to Severus, letting you go as his eyes scanned him over. He felt self-conscious as he waited in anticipation for the man’s answer, to see if this house would reject him, claiming him unworthy like Lily’s had. He knew how he looked, bruised, hair likely dripping with oil, clothing dirty and torn. He wasn’t exactly in the ideal state to be meeting your father, let alone barging into his home at four in the morning asking for a place to stay.

“What happened?” your father asked.

“Can-can we talk about it in the morning?” You pleaded with your eyes, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. You both needed to rest after the night you’d had, after you’d made your escape. Severus was free of that horrible house and you just wanted to make sure he was okay rather than argue with your father right now.

It seemed as though hours would pass by as you both stood there, staring at the man, his arms crossed, eyes squinting, glancing between you and Severus. Neither of you knew what you’d do if he said no. You didn’t have enough money to find a place to stay and going back to Spinner’s End wasn’t an option. He had to say yes, there was no other choice. You’d fight for him to stay with you, at least for the night and if it came to it, you’d figure out what to do tomorrow, take it one day at a time. Finally, your father relaxed his posture, his arms falling by his side as he let out a sigh in defeat.

“Fine. Uh, Severus, you can stay in our guest room,” he agreed to your terms, pointing to the door beside the staircase down the hall.

“Papa please, can he stay in my room? Just for tonight? Please?” You pushed your luck and Severus could hardly believe your daring attitude. It was enough for your father to agree to let him stay, generous of him considering he’d never met Severus before, but you had concerns. Severus was getting weaker with each moment that passed. He was physically, mentally and emotionally strained from everything that had happened and you wanted him by your side in case anything were to happen.

“Absolutely not.” Your father rejected your request as predicted.

“Please Papa? It’s been a long night and I don’t want to leave him.” You took Severus’ hand and pressed his arm into your chest, hoping to sway your father. You knew he had a soft spot for you; being an only child did have its perks, at least with your father.

“Please,” you begged, smiling as you held Severus tighter, your boyfriend likely completely red in the face by now from the situation, but you couldn’t risk taking your eyes of your father to find out. He kept glancing away from you, shaking his head, rolling his eyes at your stubborn behaviour, but you kept your position, never letting up.

“Fine. But keep your door open,” he finally agreed, and you relaxed your grasp on Severus, happy you wouldn’t have to leave his side just yet.

“Thank you!” you sang in glee as you turned your eyes to Severus, smiling when you saw his hair fallen around him, what little you could see of his face, beet red. He was embarrassed of course, ashamed he had to ask for help from the parents of the person he’d been dating, who he loved and wanted to make a good impression for. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. He wasn’t supposed to stand there in front of the man like a beggar, a homeless student with nothing to show for but the clothes on his back and the trunk you’d helped him lug around. The way the man looked at him now, pity in his eyes, a look of remorse, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.

“Go upstairs and I’ll fetch my first aid kit.” your father ordered, looking rather concerned for Severus. He was paler than usual, his skin whiter than paper, his eyes bloodshot and his breaths heavier than ever before. You’d been so concerned with your travels, getting him to safety, you’d hardly noticed how discoloured he was.

Picking up one side of the trunk, Severus grabbed hold of the other as he followed you up the stairs to your room. Your room was at least three times larger than his, your bed holding a queen-sized mattress, pillows fluffier than a Pygmy Puff, a large desk organized with as much supplies as you could ever need. None of it a shock to him considering the size and location of the house. You placed the trunk against the wall between your closet and the door before flicking on the light to your room. You’d barely invited Severus to have a seat on the bed before your father came back into the room, setting the first aid kit onto your desk and unzipping it.

Severus rose a brow at you, doubting how effective Muggle medicine could be, but he let your father examine him nonetheless. Having you by his side was all that gave him the strength to pull through all this. He looked down at his hand, watching your fingers slip through his palm to interlock with his. Your touch was medicine enough for him, the cream your father had given him for the bruises useless when you’d spent all of last night mending his heart.

“I’ll be fine,” Severus insisted, the man asking Severus to remove his shirt so he could examine his chest. “I just need some rest.”

You were about to protest, to insist he let your father look him over properly, but you knew how tired he was, how badly he needed a good night's rest and for all you knew, his evident pain was all due to lack of sleep. Smiling at your father, you agreed with Severus, wanting to rest as well and put last night behind you. Your father reluctantly gave Severus a few painkillers before putting away his kit, realizing how hard of a day you’d both had and began to make his way out of the room.

“We will discuss this in the morning,” he said, standing by the door. You nodded and stood to remove your shoes, socks and jacket, deciding to sleep in the clothing you had on and change in the morning.

“Goodnight,” you said, watching him leave you be and make his way across the hall to his own room. Looking back to Severus, you let out a sigh of relief, closed your eyes and tilted your head back. It was over. You’d made it. He was safe, he was home.

Severus walked over to you and gently placed his hands around you, his touch feather light as you let the weight lift off your shoulders. You eased into him, returning his hug and you both held each other, engulfed in the silence; the beautiful sound of peace and freedom. You held onto the moment, smiling as you each leaned on the other, trusting one another. You couldn’t help but hum in delight, breaking the cherished silence between you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice silky smooth, soft like the clouds in the sky. He was grateful for you, for everything you were to him, for simply existing. He’d spend the rest of his life trying to repay the gift you’d given him tonight, breaking him out of the chains that weighed him down his entire life.

You snuggled into him, your fingers running through his hair in comfort, your face sore from smiling for so long. You loved him so much, your heart fluttering as you held him, thinking about spending your summer together, happy and safe. The events you’d witnessed yesterday, the way he was treated in that house was a nightmare you never thought he’d suffered through, his life resembling that of a prisoner than a poor Cokeworth boy living on the wrong side of town.

Neither of you knew how long you’d stood there for, but when your legs could take no more, they walked you both to the bed, your hands interlocked until you managed to find your way under the covers. Like a moth to a flame, your bodies held onto each other tightly, your limbs tangled in one another, his face nuzzled deep in the crook of your neck, your lips pressed against his hair, taking in his scent as sleep welcomed you with open arms. It took no more than five minutes for you both to drift off, dreaming of your futures, the possibilities that awaited you, the mends that could be made with those you’d both said goodbye to long ago. Severus had closed the door on his past, his family, but you’d kicked open a hundred windows for him, opening his life up to so many opportunities. He was no longer tied down to live as the boy with massive piles of debt passed down from his parents, trying to work his way out of poverty. He was the boy with great potential, the boy with love to help him concur anything thrown his way.

You wanted nothing but the best for Severus and the Sandman had granted you that wish tonight, your dreams filled with aspiration for him, watching him complete his Mastery in Potions and rise to be known as the Wizarding World's most successful portioner. He’d be awarded an Order of Merlin and you’d be there by his side to support him, always. You gasped in amazement at his achievements, gasped when he told you he couldn’t live without you, gasped on the day of your wedding, gasped-

When you woke at the sound of alarmingly desperate gasps, a sound like none other you’d heard before, like a wounded animal screaming for its life. Your eyes wanted to stay closed, to shield you from the horror of the real world. Go back to sleep, life was kinder in your dreams. Severus was gasping for air like he was drowning, unable to come back to the surface. Your body jolted up when you finally realized what was going on.

“Severus!? Sev!” You sat, kneeling beside him on the bed, your hands cupping his cheek, hoping to wake him from this nightmare, that you’d both wake up perfectly happy again. His eyes opened the slightest bit before rolling back into his head again, his chest desperately grasping for air. “Severus please!”

Tears swelled in your eyes as you begged him, begged Merlin, begged the universe for this to stop. It was a dream, a horrible nightmare. It had to be, this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. You were happy, you were safe, you’d saved him. No, no, no, no!

“Papa!” You shouted through your cries, your mind unable to grasp the situation, screaming at you. Your body tensed, your arms wrapped around him desperately. You could do nothing more than cry, to hug him, to shout and scream, your thoughts too scrambled to think to do anything else.

Both your parents came running into your room, your mother turning on the light and your heart dropped as you saw the colour completely lost from Severus’ face. He was a ghost, a mere image of the boy you loved. Your vision blurred as your tears thickened, carrying every memory of him that flashed through your mind, every plan you’d imagined for your futures together. Your own throat closed up, no longer accepting air as you screeched lowly. Please.

“(Y/N)! Get off the bed!” your father ordered, but you couldn’t process his words, anything past the perimeter of your bed miles away to you. You couldn’t focus on anything but the state of your boyfriend. He was barely breathing, his eyes refusing to open, his blood no longer pumping through his body. The world was lost to your mind. You didn’t want to accept it, you couldn’t think that way, he was still here, he was still with you, he was still alive.

You felt yourself being pulled back into reality as your mother hugged you from behind, dragging you off the bed. Your body was too weak to function, too focussed on the panic you felt that you fell backwards in your mother's arms, bring you both down to the ground as she held you, your tears falling to the floor as you watched your father take your place, tearing at Severus’ shirt to examine him.

“His lung collapsed,” your father stated so casually, like Severus was just another one of his patients, like he meant nothing to him. Your blood boiled at the absurdity of his words. How could his lung have collapsed? What had his father done to him last night? How had he managed to travel on the Knight Bus with you? Your mind burned with questions, your tears drying as your panic turned into rage. Anger covered up your fear, wanting to blame someone, to go back to Spinner’s End and make those horrible people undo the damage they’d done to their son. You struggled to keep yourself grounded as your mother slowly let go of you, your father’s words muted to your ears as he spoke.

“Grab the car keys and call the hospital, let them know I’m on my way with an emergency patient,” he said to your mother who immediately ran out of the room. Her heavy footsteps echoed in our head, your vision finally returning to you as you watched your father pull Severus to the edge of the bed.

“I-I can take him to St. Mungo’s,” you managed to say, finally grasping the situation and trying to think of the best way to help Severus. “They-they have better treatment, faster treatment.”

“It’s too far away. By the time we even reach London he’ll-” Your father shook his head as he slowly gathered Severus in his arms, lifting him off the bed to carry him out the door. He paused and looked back at you, seeing the pain in your eyes, the worry and sorrow.

“He’ll be fine (Y/N). Just, go help your mother,” he tried to assure you, but his tone told a different story than his words. He was just as worried as you were and that frightened you more than anything. You let out a shaky breath, trying to push aside your despair before nodding slowly and turning on your feet to run over and grab the keys to the car, your father making his way after you with Severus. Your mum got off the phone just as you picked up the car keys and ran to unlock the car, following behind you in a haste.

Tears returned to your eyes as your father entered the garage after you, Severus lying lifeless in his arms. Your bottom lip trembled as you pushed down your emotions, trying to stay strong for him. It would do no good to resume your state of panic, it would do him no good. You had to stay strong for the both of you. For Severus you would stay silent, you would hold him and cast every healing spell you could think of on your way to the hospital. You’d keep yourself from falling apart for the sake of his life, his future. You couldn’t let yourself mourn him because he wasn’t gone. He had an entire life to live and so you fought just as his body was fighting to keep him alive. Together you would fight through this, you’d survive and come out the other end stronger than before. You’d conquered over so much pain and agony within the last few years together, there was no reason for you to give up now. You were going to fight off death, win his life back and re-join each other on the other side of the battlefield, you were sure of it. It was love that brought you home tonight and it was love that would bring him back to you again.

Next Chapter

@dracos-mudblood @darkthought15 @severuslovebot @mitchiesdungeon @bush-viper-cutie @ravenhopeflyte54 @wanderingtrails @sleepysnapesnake @lizlil @eave3 @cuddlebunny0330

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Snape x reader #young Severus Snape #young Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro Snape #snapedom #snapebang20

170 notes · View notes