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misojunnie · 4 months ago

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DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hello all! been a long time :,( my life has taken several turns since I started this account, and I've been so preoccupied with my own bs that running this blog is becoming harder than ever... hence my little disappearing act. but I don't want to disappoint u guys! this fic was supposed to be released several months but it completely slipped my mind :( I decided to log in once again to finally let you all see it! I hope you like it and I hope to be back again soon 💓 much love to all my dedicated readers and I appreciate you all more than you know!

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin @ohmykwonsoonyoung @vixensss

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

You hated the business world.

It was ruthless. Bloodless. It had no heart and no compassion. It taught you that humans were created to tear their own kind apart; it was a dog eat dog world.

A couple years ago, your family’s company went bankrupt, and you blamed it all on the Park Company. Fine, maybe your father held some culpability for throwing his business away in a deal that was obviously so faulty. But naivete and malice were entirely different things altogether; one was mostly harmless. The other? Not so much.

The Park Company was the most ruthless corporation in the business world. Working in any kind of business guaranteed running into them sooner or later. And now, not only had they run your business into the ground, they owned over ¾ of your company’s wealth in stock. Not that it was worth much anyway.

Well, it turns out fixing your father’s mistake was a little harder than you thought. Reviving a company from the dead was difficult, especially when public opinion wasn’t exactly favorable. So you made the riskiest decision yet; to start from scratch. You invested all your family’s ruined fortune on establishing your dream hotel. Even if it was the last thing you did, you would have more than a ruined corporation as your legacy.

With ten cents to your name and a pipe dream, you managed to create what would later be the most successful hotel chain in South Korea. Your wealth grew, and so did your reputation. Some praised you for making such a comeback, some degraded you for your family’s mistakes. And it definitely didn’t help that your father became a raging drunkard after his failure, raving the streets like a maniac. You even considered having him taken out just so he’d stop damaging your reputation, but you decided against it. To you, it didn’t matter. Your success was your only concern.

Destroying your life was all in a day’s work for the Parks. They were so obscenely powerful, that losing a mere company like yours was like losing an eyelash. Meaningless. You were nothing to them.

You hated them with a vengeance. They didn’t even know your name.

Or so you thought.

☆☆☆

Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring at him.

Jake Sim, heir to the Sim corporation. An airplane manufacturing company that was this close to going under when the Parks took pity and bought nearly all their stock. These days, their company was worth next to nothing, but young Sunghoon took Jake under his wing, and there was no escaping now, to his chagrin. Though they’d never admit it, they had grown very fond of each other.

��You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

☆☆☆

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who the Queen company is.”

☆☆☆

When the email stated “an intimate gathering”, you didn’t exactly expect nearly 300 people crammed into a dancing hall. The building was bursting at the seams to hold all the milling guests as they sipped on champagne and dined on fine food, laughing boisterously, teeth chattering. You hid your mouth behind the rim of your glass. You didn’t want to talk to a single person tonight.

Across the room, Sunghoon was doing the same. He had just about enough of the noise, and was considering running to the bathroom to hide when his father clapped him on the back and engaged him in a conversation he didn’t care about.

You wished you could escape.

He wished he could escape.

You stood, leaving your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter as you walked around the crowded hall, searching the crowd for anything of interest. Your eyes landed on the desserts, and you beelined for the table of sugary treats, hoping to at least find a bit of solace in them, head down as you avoided the public eye.

Your hand bumped into another’s when you reached for the tiramisu.

“Oh, excuse me.” he said softly. He was beautiful. Dark eyes, silken hair and pink lips. His posture was straight as a ruler, shoulders back and a kind look on his face. It was almost too cliche, running into this beautiful stranger.

If only you didn’t know who he was.

You turned to look at him, eyes meeting. “It’s you.” you said, and he stiffened at the sight of your face. “I was wondering when we would meet.”

Sunghoon wasn’t expecting the daughter of the Queen Company to be so beautiful. Sure, he had seen pictures, but they had never done you justice. And putting a face to the name was suddenly making him dizzy.

“Hello.” he said politely, avoiding your eyes as he gulped, throat dry. “I’m Park Sunghoon. Son of the Park company president.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” you waved him off. “No need for introductions between us. Time is valuable, let’s not waste it.”

“And patience is a virtue, so let’s make time.” Sunghoon said, smiling a tight lipped smile with his hands behind his back.

You looked at him skeptically. You didn’t think it was possible for Sunghoon to be more of a prick than you expected him to be, but he had somehow done it.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you said, holding out your hand for a handshake. “President of the Queen company.” Rather than shaking your hand, Sunghoon bowed his head, his lips brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand, pressing a chaste kiss to it.

“Charmed.” he said, and your brows raised instinctively.

“I’m sure.” you scoffed, pulling your hand away and rubbing it on the side of your dress in disgust. Sunghoon’s eye twitched. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy.”

“With what, buzzing around the dessert table?”

“With running a business.” you snapped, turning on your heel and walking away as fast as you could. Sunghoon watched, listening to the faint clicking of your off-brand heels against the marble floor, shaking his head the moment you were out of sight.

He totally fucked that up.

“Jesus, that guy is more of an asshole than I thought.” you huffed, taking your assigned seat and placing the desserts you had gathered on the table, Chaewon excitedly reaching for a mango pudding.

“What, is that even possible?” Jay asked, sparking up another cigarette. You swatted the lighter out of his hand, and he scowled.

“Apparently so.” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. You couldn’t wait for this night to end. You could feel eyes on you from all sides, judging, watching your next move. Waiting for you to fuck up, waiting for you to make a mistake or a rash decision they could broadcast to the media.

“I think we started off of on the wrong foot.” you heard a voice say from behind you, and you craned your neck to meet the eyes of Park Sunghoon, yet again. Those damn dark eyes. Swimming with emotion.

“I think there’s a reason for that.” you responded sharply, quick as a whip.

“Let’s start over. What do you say?” he grinned, leaning his head down until he was at your level, ignoring the stares he received from your friends.

“I say I’d rather die than become acquainted with you. Sorry.” you said very unapologetically, pleased with the put-out expression on his face.

“Well,” he said, straightening up and adjusting his jacket indignantly. “Doesn’t someone have an enormous chip on her shoulder.” Your smug expression crashed, morphing into a scowl. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/l/n.” With that, he stalked away, nose turned up and an unpleasant look on his face.

“Stupid piece of shit.” Jay said, sparking up his cigarette with the lighter he retrieved from the floor. You didn’t try to stop him, just stewing in your own displeasure. You couldn’t believe that audacious bastard. Was he aware that his family was the sole reason for the ‘enormous chip on your shoulder’?

You tried not to let it get to you, and quickly gave up. Suddenly, this was feeling all too real, and you got to your feet, brushing off your dress, bunching it in your hands. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Bathroom.” you mumbled, pushing your way past to get to the exit.

☆☆☆

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Park Sunghoon’s spirit was haunting you on purpose. The only thing convincing you otherwise was the fact that he was alive and well –to your chagrin.

You sat, fuming from your office as his snotty face stared at you from a newly mounted billboard across the street, a wide smile on his face as he endorsed some brand of cologne. So not only was he a scumbag businessman, now he was some kind of model? It turned your stomach to think about it.

“I want that billboard down, now.” you grumbled, dropping your head onto your desk in despair as Jay watched you with amusement.

“I can get someone to set it on fire, if you want.”

“Not necessary, but I appreciate the thought.” you said, standing and pacing around the room restlessly. “We need to take them down.” Jay snorted, taking a seat in one of your office chairs, twirling around comfortably.

“What, take down the biggest corporation in the country? It’s not as easy as it seems, honey.” You glared at him, continuing to pace. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I wholeheartedly support your ventures to destroy Park Sunghoon, but don’t you think your fury is a bit misplaced? His father is the one that destroyed your company.”

“Evil by association.” you waved him off. “Plus, he’s rude.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” Jay took a long drag. You hadn’t even noticed that he lit a cigarette, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You seriously need to stop smoking.”

“I’ll stop when you stop seeking vengeance.”

“...Touche.”

☆☆☆

You seriously needed a vacation from work. After five 16 hour shifts, the exhaustion was beginning to set in. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went out with friends. A couple of years ago, there wasn’t a weekend where you, Jay and Chaewon weren’t in some hole in the wall drinking until you forgot your failures. But ever since your company took off, you didn’t have time for that behavior. But that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy a good dive bar now and then.

You snuck through the entrance of your favorite dive bar on the East side of the city, your slip skirt waving in the wind as you nodded to the security. This was the only bar in South Korea that wouldn’t sell you out to the papers, and besides that, they made a damn good Manhattan.

There were less than 10 people in the whole place, an odd couple here or there and some folks in need of a pick-me-up. You took a seat in the middle of the bar, your usual seat at the end taken by a sodden boy with a big hood that covered his face.

“Hey, Won.” you greeted the bartender as he wiped his hands with a towel, smiling at your entrance.

“Hey, y/n.” he said, throwing the towel over his shoulder. You heard the man beside you stir. “Manhattan?”

“You know it.” Jungwon reached for a bottle of whiskey, expertly mixing and measuring like it was muscle memory, finishing your cocktail with a flourish and sliding it over the counter. You had gone to high school with Jungwon and Sunoo, the two men who owned the bar, and had been friends ever since. You trusted them.

“How’s the business?” he asked, leaning with his elbows resting on the marble. “Saw you on the news the other day. Said you stormed out of the Park’s gala.”

You sighed, “Yeah. It’s been a tough week.”

“I hear that,” he said, straightening up with a grin. “You’ll get through it, stronger than ever. You always do.” you smiled, pressing the rim of the glass to your lips.

“Thanks, Won.”

“No problem. Just kick those greedy bitches in the ass for me.” That elicited a chuckle from you, Jungwon smiling upon hearing your laugh. “I’ll go get Sunny. I’m sure he’ll wanna say hi.”

“I’d love that.” you said gratefully, watching as Jungwon weaved around the back of the bar and into the back room. You looked down, sipping your drink, lost in thought.

“What are you doing here?” A grating, angry voice interrupted your haze. You turned to the boy sitting beside you, and it felt like you lost your buzz in an instant.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” you said, staring into the dark eyes of your nemesis yet again, this time foggy with drunkeness. “You seriously had to find the one place where I could escape your face?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig of his vodka soda.

“My face? There’s a sixty foot billboard of your face outside my window.” you grumbled, and he snorted gracelessly. You could tell by his hoodie being pulled forward and his bangs covering most of his face that he was trying to hide, just like you. “I’ve been going to this bar for four years.”

“Lucky you. I just found it last week.” he took another sip. You suddenly felt silly sitting multiple stools away from him, but you’d be damned before moving closer. “This is the only place that won’t sell me out to the press,” he sighed. “And their bartender is pretty damn good.” You observed the four empty glasses sitting beside him, the way he was slurring his words. Clearly he had come here for the same reason you had.

“Won’s a pro.” you said, averting your eyes. The Sunghoon before you was throwing you off. He had humanity, and you hated it. It gave you a reason to hate him a little less than before.

Jungwon emerged from the back, a bright faced brunette in tow. Grateful for the excuse to end the conversation with Sunghoon, you leapt out of your seat and rounded the bar to pull the man into a hug.

“Hey, Sunny!” you said brightly, and he grinned.

“I didn’t get a hug.” Jungwon rolled his eyes, reaching for a bottle of tequila to complete another order.

“How’ve you been?” Sunoo asked, releasing you to get a good look at your face. “Wow, it’s been awhile since you’ve been in here. You look all adult-like.” You scoffed, brushing him off. “Where’s Jay and Chae? I haven’t seen them in months.”

“I didn’t tell them I was coming.” you admitted.

“Ah, one of those nights?” he asked, and you nodded. “You busy working? I’ve seen you in the news, the company’s looking good.” Sunghoon snorted from beside you, and you resisted the urge to glare.

“Pretty busy, yeah. The business world is a battlefield right now.” you said with a pointed look at the man beside you who slammed his glass down on the counter.

“Another.” he muttered, and Jungwon looked him up and down skeptically.

“I think you’re done for the night. I’ve gotta cut you off.” Won said decisively, and Sunghoon looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“Fuck, whatever.” he said, getting up from his seat and drunkenly stumbling, tripping as he dismounted from the stool, using the counter to steady himself.

“He doesn’t look so good.” Sunoo said quietly, and you watched him, poking your tongue into the flesh of your cheek in confliction.

“You need help?” Jungwon said, ready to assist as he clapped a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, but the older boy shook him off frustratedly.

“I’m fine, get your hands off of me.” he stuttered, swiping at him.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help.” Jungwon said defensively, shaking his head as Sunghoon tried, failing, to make his way to the door. You huffed, setting your drink down and abandoning the last sip as you made your way to him.

“Hey, stop being an idiot. Let’s get you a taxi.” you chastised, and he scowled.

“I don’t want help from you.” Sunghoon mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re drunk, Sunghoon. It’d be a nightmare if the news caught you wandering on the street.” That made him think, and he begrudgingly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, refusing to speak.

“You need help?” Sunoo called after you, and you waved back at him.

“Don’t worry, I know him. Put the Manhattan on my tab.”

“It’s on the house, angel. Get home safe.” Jungwon said, and you sent him a grateful wave as you attempted to get Sunghoon out the door, shutting it behind you.

“Why are you doing this?” Sunghoon said, almost incoherent. “You could’ve sold me out to the press. To get your revenge.” You pondered his question, then shrugged.

“I can’t say I don’t want to.” you admitted. “But you’re vulnerable right now. I know what it feels like to be blindsided when you’re defenseless. I wouldn’t do that to anyone. Clearly not even my worst enemy.” Sunghoon snorted.

“You’re a good person.” he mumbled, his eyes practically closed with the weight of his exhaustion and intoxication.

“Take notes.” you chuckled as you texted your driver, simultaneously attempting to get Sunghoon over to a bench. “I called a car for you, so just sit tight.” You both sat in silence, staring into the dark city, breath fogging in the air.

“I am sorry, y’know.” Sunghoon said, nose and cheeks red from the cold air. “About what my father did. I never would have condoned it if I had the power to stop him.” You stared at him blankly, before the corners of your lips turned up.

“Thanks. You must really be drunk.” He chuckled in response.

“Yeah, maybe.” He shook his head.

“Y’know, Sunghoon,” you started. “I hope you run the company the way you think it should be run. Stand up for yourself.” He didn’t respond to that, just staring at the floor, twiddling his thumbs.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I think I will.” A car pulled up to the curb, and you sighed in relief. Sunghoon stood up, insisting he was fine when you tried to help.

“Goodbye, Sunghoon.” He looked back at you in silence, before nodding.

“Get home safe.” And with that, he shut the door of the car, the engine rumbling as he turned the corner and disappeared into the night.

☆☆☆

Park Sunghoon was an idiot. And he was finally beginning to accept it.

He woke up with a pounding headache, grimacing and gripping his forehead in pain. It felt like there was an 80 decibel bass pounding his head, and he blamed it all on the vodka soda. And you, of course. You were making his head spin.

He stumbled out of bed, attempting to shove his feet into the slippers next to his bed, confused to find that they were pink and at least three sizes too small.

“Morning, sunshine.” a feminine voice called, and Sunghoon was beginning to realize that this wasn’t his home at all. He froze as a beautiful young woman stepped out from the bathroom, a lush robe wrapped around her body. “Feeling sober?”

“How did I get here?” Sunghoon asked, dropping back onto the bed as the woman snickered, reaching into her closet.

“You were on the floor whining and crying outside the office building. I took you home when the press got wind of your theatrics. Remind me to get a key to your apartment copied if you’re gonna keep acting like this.”

“You don’t need a key, Yunjin. Don’t be stupid.” Sunghoon rubbed his head, frustrated. He didn’t even remember going to the office in the first place, much less being picked up by her; aka the daughter of his father’s closest business partner, aka the woman he was predicted to wed if all things went his family’s way.

He wasn’t partial to the idea. Neither was she.

“A thank you would be nice.” Yunjin rolled her eyes, emerging from the closet fully dressed, already on the phone and pulling on a pair of high heels. “Now get out of my apartment. I have to get to work.” She tossed him a key and a fresh tee shirt from her closet. “Get dressed and lock up when you’re done.”

“Got it.” Sunghoon said, rubbing his eyes and pulling the tee shirt over his head. Yunjin looked back at him, tongue poking into her cheek.

“My mother still wants me to marry you, y’know.”

“Well she and my mother have that in common.” He rolled his eyes. She frowned.

“You’re too careless, Sunghoon.” The door shut, and Sunghoon was left to think about her words. His mind raced as he recalled the night before.

Your kindness.

Your smile.

How he apologized and didn’t think twice.

He shook his head, shuffling to the kitchen and opening the fridge, the cold tile pressing against his feet. Maybe he was too careless.

☆☆☆

The room felt stuffy, and so did your nose. You wondered if you were catching a cold, or if you were just allergic to business dinners.

“Hey, y/n.” Jake said, taking a seat beside you. You wiped your nose, flashing him a tight smile.

“Hey.” you replied, looking at your lap. Jake was one of the rare people you respected, and part of that was due to his company’s failure, like yours. He had built it back up to its former glory, but remained humble. You didn’t mind him. He was sweet.

“You seem bored.” he said, watching as you stared at the floor, clearly ambivalent toward what was happening around you.

“Astute observation.” you chuckled under your breath.

“I get it. These dinners can seem like a chore.” he said, picking up his wine glass by the stem. “Trust me, I’ve been going to them since I was six.”

“Lucky you.” you snickered. “Why do you even bother?” “Sunghoon always drags me here one way or another.” Your mood visibly dampened at the mention of his name, and you took a sip of your wine, hiding your mouth behind the lip of your glass. “How are things between you two?”

“If he dropped dead, I wouldn’t cry at his funeral.” you cleared your throat.

“But you wouldn’t cheer either?” Jake grinned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever.”

“Baby steps.” he laughed, and you failed to suppress a smile. “I’m happy nonetheless. It’s nice to see you get along.” You wiped your nose again.

“That’s a stretch.” you scoffed. As if summoned to disprove you, the presence of Park Sunghoon suddenly entered your view, his hands tucked into his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice how nice he looked when his hair was pushed back.

“Mind if I borrow the lady for a moment?” he cleared his throat and Jake stood, flashing you a knowing look when Sunghoon wasn’t watching.

“Point taken.” you grumbled, as Jake snickered to himself, making himself busy on the other side of the room. After a moment of hesitation, Sunghoon took his seat.

“Hi.” he said slowly, and you nodded in acknowledgement. The energy was painfully awkward. “Um, I just wanted to say sorry about the other night. I haven’t really gotten a chance to contact you or anything, but I am sorry, and I should’ve called-”

“It’s fine.” you said tightly, shaking your head. “It happens.”

“Not to me.” he said defensively. “Look, I only apologize once in a blue moon, so just let it happen.” That elicited a chuckle from you.

“Alright. I accept your apology.” you said amusedly, and he let out a sigh of relief. You watched him blow a piece of hair out of his face, his lips parting for a moment to let out a breath. You averted your eyes when he caught you staring. He truly was beautiful.

Sunghoon’s thoughts were similar at the moment. While you avoided his gaze, he watched the way your eyelashes batted, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I gotta go.” Sunghoon cleared his throat, and you nodded, eager for his exit. “Um. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Don’t sound so excited.” you said sardonically, and he rolled his eyes as he got up, giving you a dramatic bow as he walked away and towards another table. You watched him leave, eyes following his graceful figure and the way he smiled.

“You want to fuck him so bad.”

“Ew, Chae!” you yelped at the sudden interruption, waving off the smug girl leaning on your shoulder. “No way. Me and him? No, never. Don’t be silly.”

“Whatever you say.” she shrugged, taking his seat as she sipped on her third glass of red wine. “But the eyes don’t lie.” You glared up at her.

“I seriously hate you.”

☆☆☆

Three clinks of a wine glass, and your attention was at the front of the room. Sunghoon seemed to be giving a speech, and you brought your eyes to the stage. When you realized he was already looking at you, an unfamiliar feeling flooded your stomach. It felt something like dread.

“Welcome, everybody.” Sunghoon said, smiling warmly into the crowd, met with applause and good natured whoops. His father, however, was looking at him like he had just killed his cat, leading you to believe he wasn’t intended to make this speech.

And you were right. Sunghoon’s heart was pounding in his chest as he stared into the hordes, some faces familiar, some not.

“I’d like to thank you all for being here today.” Sunghoon said. “And I’d like to make a toast to the company and all of its potential. All it has accomplished, and all it will continue to accomplish.” The clinking of glasses resounded through the room as your frown deepened, your arms crossing over your chest. “And I would like to say, as the heir to the Park legacy, that I will try my hardest to steer this company towards kindness.” he said, with a fleeting glance towards you. “And so, cheers to the Park company. And cheers to ushering in a new era of ethical business.” The crowd, while mildly confused, burst into applause, their glasses rattling, champagne and wine alike spilling over the rims as people took celebratory gulps.

You shook your head, picking up the hem of your dress as you stood, walking to the exit with a smile on your face.

You sat on the steps outside the building, your knees pressed to your chest as you took a long drag of your cigarette. You told yourself you would quit, but something was itching at you that you couldn’t quite scratch, and nicotine seemed to do the trick momentarily. You were yearning for some peace.

“Flighty, aren’t you?” An amused voice said, the sound of light footsteps preceding it. You turned around, exhaling when you saw Sunghoon’s face towering over you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Nice speech.” you said, ignoring his comment.

“You mean that?”

“I do, actually.” Sunghoon chuckled, seating himself beside you with a grunt. “I didn’t say you could sit with me.”

“I don’t need your permission.” Sunghoon scoffed, folding his knees. You glared at him, but didn’t protest, taking another drag. “Put that out. I hate smoke.”

“I don’t need your permission.” you mocked him.

“Touche.” he said, resting his chin on his knees. “I suppose the both of us are equally headstrong.”

“Trust me, I’m more stubborn.” you laughed, ashing your cigarette and watching the sparks hit the floor. After a moment, you stubbed it out against the bottom of your shoe, rubbing the dark ash off with your thumb. Sunghoon noticed, but said nothing.

“I meant what I said in my speech, y’know. It wasn’t just to impress you.” you snorted at that. “I mean it! I do want to reform the company.”

“That’s admirable.” you nodded. “I’m glad to see my words had an effect.”

“Me too. See? I’ve only spent a couple days with you and I’m already becoming a better person.” Both of you went silent at his words, his eyes widening as he realized what he said. But he didn’t take it back, the two of you staring, searching through each other's eyes. You hesitated to say something, but there was no hesitation when he reached out for you, your lips colliding as he kissed you.

His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, resting at your nape, making the hairs rise. Your skin felt like it was on fire as he tilted his head, pulling you closer, one of his hands resting on your waist, his thumb rubbing over the fabric of your dress. After a breathless moment, you pulled away. Both of you stared at each other in silence, panting to regain your breath, hungry for more, but hesitating.

After a second, Sunghoon’s swollen lips split into a grin, and he began to laugh, leaning back on his hands as he snickered. You heaved out a sigh, but you couldn’t hold back the smile on your face.

“You are so fucking annoying.”

☆☆☆

You now had Park Sunghoon’s number. It had been three days since you kissed, and you hadn’t yet texted him. You wondered if he assumed you would.

But you didn’t have time to worry about that now. You had work to do.

“Jay, I need you to run a diagnostic on the hotel website and check for errors. And Chaewon, please call Mr. Choi, for the millionth time, and request some new cleaners. We need three dozen rooms cleaned before 10:0o pm.” you said, flipping through a checklist. You had been buzzing around your office drinking coffee and handling busy work since 4 am. It was sufficient to say that you were in business mode. “And both of you, be quick about it. I have a million more tasks to take care of.”

“Okay, Mom.” Jay rolled his eyes, getting out of his seat on the couch and you sent him a quick glare. “Since when have you taken anything seriously?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I have a business to run these days.” you said facetiously, and Jay placed an apologetic kiss on your cheek before running out of the door. “You too, Chae.” She shut her laptop, sending you a quick salute.

The minute the room was empty, you dropped onto your chair, letting your head loll backwards, closing your eyes. The minute you opened them, you were confronted with the enormous, cheesy grin of Park Sunghoon facing you from the billboard across the street. You huffed, getting to your feet and tugging down the blinds with a frown.

You could not get him out of your head.

As you sat in silence, stewing with rage at the fact that Sunghoon, of all people, was occupying your headspace, your landline rang, the little light flashing green as the phone vibrated. You picked it up with a sigh.

“Y/n speaking.”

“Why haven’t you called?” You froze, slamming the phone down and hanging up as quickly as your hands would move. That infuriating, smug voice, you’d recognize it anywhere. You stared at the phone blankly until it began to ring again, and after a moment of reluctance, you picked it up again. “What exactly is your problem?”

“How’d you get my number?” you said exhaustedly, spinning in your chair and getting tangled in the phone cord.

“I called your secretary.” you internally cursed Chaewon, letting out a deep breath through your nose. “I gave you my number so you’d text, you know.”

“I’m busy.”

“I’m busy too. I still found the time to call.”

“I wish you wouldn’t have.” you quipped. “What, you wanna see me?” You could hear him chuckle from the other end.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Vice prez told me you’ve been waiting on upper management’s approval for your budget. I’m here to take care of it.”

“Oh.” you replied embarrassedly, crossing your arms.

“Aw, don’t sound so disappointed, sweetheart.” he tutted. “We’re sending a representative over tonight to discuss business.”

“I’m assuming that’s you.” you said, and he hummed in response. “I look forward to it. And by the way, we aren’t close enough for pet names.” You hung up without allowing him time for a reply, taking a moment to collect yourself before you straightened your jacket and got back to work, a deep frown on your face.

Sunghoon, on the other end, was grinning like a fool.

☆☆☆

Three knocks resounded from your door, and you looked up from your laptop for the first time in hours, cracking your neck in the process. Rubbing the back of your neck, you called out into the empty room.

“Come in!” you said, and Chaewon’s head peeked through the door, her black bob swishing as she walked inside, her pink heels clicking against the floor.

“Park Sunghoon is here to see you.” she said, and you sighed, looking down once again. “He’s in the lobby. Says he’s getting impatient.”

“Let him in.” you waved her off, and she nodded. “Oh, and Chae? Give out my number one more time, and you’re so fired.” She grinned coyly, blowing you a kiss as she slipped through the door. You rolled your eyes. You were beginning to wonder if you had a single competent employee in your entire company.

It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to find your office. It felt like the air chilled when he walked through the door.

“Hey,” he said warmly in greeting, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked incredibly handsome in his tailored gray suit. You slapped yourself on the forehead internally, shifting in your chair uncomfortably. You were acting like an idiot.

“Hi.” you said tightly, straightening a pile of papers. He dropped onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Make yourself at home.” you said sarcastically.

He grinned, “Let’s talk business, sweetheart.”

“Remember what I said about the pet names?” you reminded him, getting up from your desk and slipping into the chair across from him.

“Aw, c’mon. Loosen up,” he urged you, leaning forward in his seat. “Now, whaddya got for me?” You looked down at the stack of papers in your hand.

“Well, due to necessary improvements, budget has increased this year. We’re in the process of funding a new computer system, and we’ll definitely need more support if we want to expand the branch in Seongbuk-gu. So, I’d say we’re looking at a couple hundred thousand, minimum.” you explained, sorting through your files.

“Boring.” Sunghoon mimed a yawn, standing up and walking to the makeshift bar on your side panel, unscrewing a bottle of whiskey.

“Can you please take this seriously?” you asked exasperatedly.

“I am,” he said defensively, pouring a sizable glass of whiskey. “I’m more of a vodka guy myself. I’ll have someone go on a grocery run next week and get you stocked.”

“Sunghoon.” you deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes.

“Aw, c’mon y/n. Aren’t I supposed to be the uptight one, and you the free willed?”

“You seem free willed enough for the two of us.” you grumbled.

“Alright,” he said, moving to sit back down on the couch. “I have a confession to make.” You stared at him expectantly. “Management approved the budget. I sent off the form yesterday and it was done by 9:00 am this morning.” You raised a brow.

“So��”

“So I came here just to see you, yes.” You smirked, and he groaned in annoyance before you even had a chance to respond.

“I fucking knew it!” you laughed, and he took a sip of his drink. “Park Sunghoon, you are a player.”

“Whatever.” he sassed, standing back up to refill his glass. “Promise to call me next time, and I won’t have to make any surprise visits.”

“I can’t make any promises.” you grinned. “But you can make me a drink.” He looked at you for a moment before chuckling, pouring a second glass of whiskey with a splash of sweet vermouth and bitters for a makeshift Manhattan.

“There’s no cherry, but I did my best.” he said, handing it to you.

“You remembered.” you said warmly, and he nodded. You took a sip. It was a bit too sweet for your taste, but you didn’t mind. You were smiling so brightly, he was itching with the urge to kiss your cheek, so he did. Your smile fell as you rubbed your cheek, Sunghoon avoiding eye contact with you as he sat back down.

You sat across from each other in momentary silence. The window was open, and the night air brushed against your cheeks. Sunghoon’s nose was pink from the cold.

“Do you like me, Sunghoon?” you asked, breaking the silence. He stared.

“Whoah,” he chuckled nervously, slender fingers toying with the rim of his cup. “You get straight to the point, huh?” You didn’t respond. “Let’s not talk about it.” You thought for a minute, before nodding, folding your knees and resting your chin on them.

“I’m okay with that.”

☆☆☆

Surprisingly enough, your friendship with Park Sunghoon was persistent if nothing else. In front of the press you still acted like enemies—you both agreed it was better for your respective companies if nobody knew you had become unlikely companions. But behind closed doors, you would smile when you saw him entering a room, and he would call you on a late night after a hard day of work.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You tore your eyes away from your phone lighting up the black night, ringing on the table. You and Jay were sitting on the fire escape of your apartment complex, passing a lit cigarette back and forth and watching the smoke disappear into the evening sky. You could see all of Seoul from the penthouse.

“You gonna answer that?” Jay asked smugly, taking a long drag as he watched you stare at your phone in conflict. You turned it over.

“Nope.” you said, reaching for the cigarette and taking a drag until you felt lightheaded. “I don’t have time for him tonight.”

“You seem to be spending a lot of time together lately.” Jay replied, and you glared at him. “Hey, I’m not poking fun. I’m genuinely curious.” You turned away, staring at the glimmering skyline. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”

“No.” you brought the cig to your lips again. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then what is it?” “...I don’t know.” you admitted. Watching the cigarette burn into ashes in your unmoving hand, Jay began to light his own. “I used to hate him so much, Jay. And now, he’s something completely different than what I thought. He’s a good person.” you turned to look at the boy sitting beside you.

“I know,” he affirmed. “I know.”

“So,” you said, remembering your cigarette and ashing it on the railing, watching the gray ash fall to the ground several stories below. “What now?” Jay took a drag.

“I think that’s for you to decide, y/n. I think you’ve earned the right to let go.” His words touched you. Had you finally worked hard enough to look past those who had wronged you? You had achieved everything you dreamed of, and more.

Were you finally more than your own vengeance?

You didn’t respond, only grabbing your phone and wrapping your jacket a little tighter around your body to protect yourself from the cold breeze.

“I think I’m gonna call him.” you announced, and Jay chuckled.

“I had a feeling,” he said, stretching. “I’m gonna head home. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” you said, watching as Jay walked out the door, giving you a little salute before shutting it behind him. You sighed, staring at your phone.

3 Missed Calls From Park Sunghoon.

You hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button, letting your phone rest on your lap as it rang. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” his muffled voice said through the phone.

“Hey.” you responded.

“I’m outside.” Your eyes widened, and you immediately ran to the edge of the fire escape, peering down to the entrance of your apartment building. Surely enough, there he was, his back resting against the wall, polished shoes tapping against the concrete.

“How long have you been waiting for?” you called, and he looked up, his face barely a speck from so high up.

“Not long.” he responded.

“How’d you know I’d answer?” you could barely make out his grin in the dark.

“You always do.” you rolled your eyes, retreating inside and tugging on a pair of flats. You took the elevator down, and when you entered the lobby, Sunghoon’s solemn face was the first thing you saw. His nose and cheeks were tinted red from the cold, and his hair was messy from the wind. You smiled, tucking your hands into your pockets.

“You wanna come upstairs?” you asked. “I’ll make tea.”

“Tea sounds nice.” he said quietly, smiling as he followed you to the elevator.

This was the first time Sunghoon had seen your apartment, and he was fascinated to say the least. As you fussed over the boiling water and choosing the right tea, he toyed with the perfumes on your coffee table, running his hands along your brown leather couch and smelling the fresh flowers you kept in glass vases. He was enchanted by this little space you had created for yourself. His apartment was just a bachelor pad, filled with expensive furniture and lacking life.

“I like your apartment.” he said, staring at a print of Marilyn Monroe that you kept on your wall. “It’s stylish.”

“Thanks. You want jasmine or oolong?”

“Jasmine, please. And bring a shot of vodka with it.” You snorted, pulling out two tea bags and pouring two shots, bringing them to the coffee table.

“So, what brings you to my side of the city?” you asked.

“I had a hard day.” Sunghoon knocked back the shot of vodka, wiping his lips. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” you said, throwing back your shot and setting the small glass cup on the table. You didn’t want to think of the implications of Sunghoon coming over in the middle of the night without any warning. It made your head hurt.

“I’m finding that, as of late,” Sunghoon began. “That you have a somewhat calming presence in my life.” You froze. “Lately I’ve been under a lot of stress, with remodeling the company and everything. My father’s been giving me hell about my new policies. I don’t think he likes my idea of ‘ethical new business’.” He let out a large exhale. “At the end of the day, you’re really the only one who understands me.” He smiled bittersweetly. “And, well, I’m grateful for your company lately. Spending time with you has been the only thing keeping me sane. It’s hard to imagine that we ever hated each other.”

You couldn’t think of a single thing to say. You felt like your heart was rising in your throat, and you cleared it, attempting to collect yourself. Sunghoon chuckled, looking at the floor with red cheeks.

“Is it cool that I said all that?” he said after a moment of silence. “Cause I know that it’s delicate.”

“Y’know, I used to hate you more than anyone in the world.” you laughed gently. “But I agree with you. These days, you’re the only thing keeping me sane.” Sunghoon gazed at you, but you were looking into your cup of tea. “And yeah, it’s delicate. But I don’t really care what anyone thinks but you.” You met his eyes. Those damn dark eyes. Swimming with emotion. And they were trained quite blatantly on your lips.

Before you could register it, he was reaching for your face, his rough palm caressing the soft skin of your cheek, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed you gently, his other hand on your waist.

You had kissed before, but nothing had felt as intimate as the moment you were sharing now. Those past kisses had been a fleeting moment, an impulse decision, but now Sunghoon was kissing you like you were the only thing in the universe, like you were all that mattered. His grip on your waist was bruising, as though he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You felt drunk on love and vodka, shifting yourself onto his lap as you tangled your hands in his hair. You were both breathless, hearts racing as you held each other tightly, losing yourselves in the taste of each other’s lips.

Sunghoon pulled away, his lips splitting into a smug smile as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, your lips red and swollen as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Remember when you asked if I liked you?” he asked, hands trailing over your bare thighs, eyes trained on the way your eyes twinkled under the dim lighting and the thin tank top you were wearing underneath your jacket. “Well, I think I have my answer now.” you licked your lips, before grinning.

“You’re an asshole, Sunghoon.”

“Then I’m really lucky you like me.”

☆☆☆

You woke up to two things; Sunghoon’s face, and the sound of yelling.

His eyes were closed, his full lips slightly parted as he let out gentle snores, his dark hair sticking up. As much as you wanted to admire the way the morning light hit his skin, you stood up and walked to your balcony, peeking outside.

You yelped, slamming your glass doors shut as you ran inside, pulling on a pair of sweats, simultaneously shaking Sunghoon awake.

“Sunghoon, get up. The paparazzi are here.” you said frantically, attempting to retrieve a shirt from your closet when a pair of strong arms pulled you back into bed.

“Five more minutes.” he groaned from under the covers, and you fought back a smile, attempting to pry his grip off of you. His hands made their way to the straps of your bra, pulling and letting it snap back onto your skin. “Lace, huh? I didn’t notice.”

“I’m not kidding, get up.” you said, pushing him off of you and running to your closet to grab the top half of your tracksuit, pulling it over your head.

“What’s the rush?” he said, finally sitting up, ears perking when he heard the loud voices coming from outside. Peering out the window, his eyes widening.

“Oh shit,” he cursed, getting to his feet and hurriedly pulling on his shirt. “How’d they find us?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you thought about what to do.

“Not sure, but we should try to preserve our image.” you grabbed a snapback from your nightstand, putting it on his head to cover his face. “You go out the back, I’ll curse them out and keep ‘em distracted.”

“What happened to preserving your image?” he snorted, buckling his belt.

“Well, my reputation’s never been worse.” you said, tapping him on the nose. “So you must like me for me.” He smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Mm, I do.” he said, before tugging on his shoes. He blew you a kiss before running out your front door, shutting it behind him, making sure it didn’t slam. You watched him leave, your fingers tracing where he had kissed you, and you smiled for a moment before collecting yourself.

“Hey!” you yelled, stomping towards the paparazzi stationed outside the lobby of your apartment. They immediately whirled in your direction, cameras flashing as they all fought to get their questions out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Ms. Y/l/n!” a reporter yelled. “Are you aware of the rising scandal between you and Park Sunghoon?” You scrunched up your nose.

“Park Sunghoon?” you repeated in disgust.

“Sunghoon was reported to have arrived at your home at midnight last night! Do you have anything to say to these accusations?”

“Do I have anything to say?” you scoffed. “You must be mistaken. Park Sunghoon is a pig, just like the rest of his family. I hope the media understands that I do not, and never will, have anything to do with a pompous asshole like him.” The paparazzi erupted into questions and flashing cameras, but you turned on your heel and sashayed back inside, waving them off as the sliding doors closed behind you, drowning out the noise.

On your face you wore a grimace.

☆☆☆

A newspaper slammed onto Sunghoon’s desk, his drowsy eyes snapping open at the sound. “‘Park Sunghoon is a pig, just like the rest of his family!’ States Queen Corporation’s CEO After Being Accused of an Illicit Affair with the Park Company’s Son”, stated the title. Sunghoon smiled momentarily, but his amused expression dropped when he saw the furious face of his father towering over him.

“Would you like to explain this?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm. Sunghoon was smart enough to know that meant he was enraged.

“Um, is there anything to explain?” Sunghoon said timidly. “She said it herself, we’re not involved.” Sunghoon’s father rubbed his temples.

“Well, obviously, Sunghoon. I’d hope you’re smart enough to not get involved with the one woman who could ruin our company.” Sunghoon winced internally. “We must do something about this issue. Y/n is the only threat to our company.”

“Surely she’ll leave us alone if we don’t encroach upon her business.” he attempted to reason, but his father looked at him as though he had gone insane.

“Absolutely not. We’ll have to speed up your engagement to Huh Yunjin.” Sunghoon leapt out of his seat.

“Father, you can’t be serious!” he said in disbelief.

“I won’t hear any complaints. The Huhs own the largest company in Korea, second to ourselves, and we can’t afford to make an enemy out of them. Merging our companies will give us total dominion over the business world.” his father said with finality. “Not to mention their only heir is a woman. We’ll control their company through you.” Sunghoon bit his lip.

“But I don’t want to marry her.” His father shook his head.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

☆☆☆

A newspaper slammed onto your desk.

“Park Sunghoon, a pig? A likely story.” Jay snorted, slipping into the seat across from you. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, picking up the newspaper. “Late night, huh? So it must be true.”

“Shut up.” you said, but you couldn’t hold back the smile on your face. “Guess I went a little overboard, but it makes for a good story.” Jay raised his brows at you, taking a sip of his coffee. “Will you stop looking at me like that?”

“I think you’ve got a little crush.” He said in a sing-song voice. You snorted.

“I’m a grown woman, Jay. Us hooking up doesn’t mean I have feelings for him.” Jay shrugged.

“Say whatever you want, but it’s obvious that you like Park Sunghoon. There’s no denying it.” You were about to respond when your phone rang, and you shooed Jay out of your office as he mimed kissing childishly.

“Hello?” you asked, and a familiar voice responded.

“A pig, huh? A pompous asshole?” Sunghoon spoke smugly.

“I did what I had to do.” you shrugged, spinning in your office chair.

“Mm, sure.” he said, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he jotted down notes. “Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I’m calling to let you know that the Parks are throwing a very exclusive fundraising gala tomorrow, and there’s an empty seat for a certain CEO if she’s so inclined.” you snorted.

“Oh, really? And would your family like to see me there?” “A little trouble would do them some good. Plus, I want to see you.” You blushed on the other side of the phone, covering your mouth with your hand. “And I’ve booked a private reservation for two at the shittiest bar on the East side,” he joked. “So?”

You thought for a moment. After your recent statement in the news, walking into a Park gala would be like walking into a den of tigers. But since when had you been afraid of stirring the corporate pot?

“I’ll be there.” you promised, and Sunghoon grinned, tucking a pen between his lips. “I should look for a dress.”

“I’ll have it taken care of.” He twirled his pen. “Just wait for my call.”

“See you tomorrow then.” you grinned.

“See you tomorrow, m’lady.”

☆☆☆

It was three hours and counting until the Parks’ big gala. You stared at the wall ahead of you while Chaewon tried on countless lavish dresses and Jay sorted through piles of patterned ties. Sunghoon had assured you that you could bring your closest friends, but you weren’t certain that his family would appreciate your troupe of misanthropes intruding upon their event.

“Cheetah print, or zebra print?” Chaewon asked you, holding two dresses against her body. You shook your head, biting the nail of your thumb.

“Neither. Pick something nice, Chae.”

“This is nice.” she protested, but put the dresses down and continued to look around. Jay noticed the way you stared vacantly ahead, stressfully chewing your nails, and he set down his ties, scooching in closer.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked cautiously. “Nervous?”

“I couldn’t care less what those people think about me.” you said, and Jay chuckled at your classic behavior.

“Okay, so. What’s wrong?” His eyes held concern as he rubbed his thumb along your arm, and you sighed heavily.

“I do care what he thinks. And that’s the problem.” Jay let out a quiet sound of understanding. “I don’t understand. Why do I even care about him? The only thing on my mind for the past six years has been destroying that family.”

“Y/n,” he began. “You don’t have to punish yourself for forgiving someone.” You stopped biting your nails. “Especially someone with no fault in the situation.”

“But he’s one of them.” you mumbled.

“Does he seem like a good person?” Jay asked. Your eyes made contact for a moment, before you nodded and quickly looked away. “Then that’s all that matters.” You considered his words for a moment, before sighing, folding your hands.

“You’re right, you’re right. Thanks Jay.”

“I’m always gonna be here for you. Try not to worry.” He patted you lightly on the back as he stood, and you gave him a tight smile. Your eyes were drawn to your bed, snug in the corner of your apartment, a large bag lying on top. Fabric peeked out from beneath the top, a shining sapphire blue. You held your head in your hands.

Trying not to worry was proving to be impossible.

On the other side of the city, Sunghoon was tightening his tie.

“You finally learned how to tie a tie.” Jake snorted, but Sunghoon didn’t laugh. He was staring vacantly out the window and into the horizon, zoned out on the skyline. “Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?”

“What?” Sunghoon snapped out of his trance, whipping around.

“Something on your mind?” Jake tucked his hands into the pockets of his ironed blazer. They were both dressed in their nicest suits in preparation for the night’s events. Sunghoon shook his head.

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” Sunghoon admitted, and Jake grew serious. “This whole time, I feel like I’ve been looking for something deeper than just being the heir to this bullshit company. When I’m with her…I feel like I found something real.” “Sunghoon,” Jake said tenderly. “As of a couple days ago, you’re engaged.” Sunghoon sighed. “You can’t do that to y/n.”

“I don’t want to get married.” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking, which he quickly covered up with a cough. “I don’t want to marry Yunjin, and she definitely doesn’t want to marry me.”

“As sad as it is, you don’t have a choice.” Jake said sympathetically. “I know you’re upset. But just try to keep it together for tonight.”

“Yeah, got it.” Sunghoon scoffed, fidgeting, adjusting his cufflinks. “After 21 years, I’ve become accustomed to putting away my emotions for my father’s benefit.” Jake watched sadly as his best friend adjusted his jacket, shaking his head before exiting his room and striding downstairs to where the gala was taking place.

☆☆☆

Your eyes scanned the luxurious room, full of familiar but unwelcoming faces. Chandeliers were draped from ceilings twenty feet high, crystals glimmering in the golden glow, sending fractals of light spiraling around the room. You were receiving dirty looks from every corner of the ballroom, judgemental whispers echoing. You tried your best to tune it out. Jay stood behind you, glaring back tenfold at every disapproving partygoer, Chaewon oblivious to it all as she enjoyed the decadence.

You needed to find Sunghoon or you would lose your mind.

His face shone from the other side of the room, and when your eyes connected it was like the rest of the world fell away. His warm, brown eyes captivated you as he quickly left whatever conversation he was a part of, weaving through the crowd to get to you. He was breathless by the time he made it through the sea of people.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” you responded unsteadily, looking over your shoulder to see his father watching you with a fierce glare. “Sunghoon, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Since when have you cared what everyone else thinks?” he said with a bittersweet grin, and you chuckled, some of the tension relieved. “C’mon, I’ll show you the dance floor.” He tugged on your hand, whisking you away. You attempted to hide your face as you left with him.

Jake watched you leave, sipping gin from a crystal glass. Jay approached his side, picking up a bottle and emptying its contents into the largest glass he could find.

“They’re so fucked.” Jake said without thinking.

“I don’t know,” Jay said, taking a swig. “They seem like they really love each other. Who says love doesn’t conquer all?” “The business world.” Jake chuckled, looking at his reflection in the bottom of his glass. “I just hope he lets her down easy.”

“What do you mean?” When Jake looked up, Jay was staring at him inquisitively, brows furrowed. Jake’s face dropped, his heart in his throat.

“He hasn’t told her yet?” Jake asked hesitantly. Jay’s grip on his drink tightened. The two men stared at each other in silence, the tension palpable.

“...Told her what?”

☆☆☆

Sunghoon closed the towering, intricate wooden doors behind you as you entered the ballroom. Ceilings made of mirrors caused the light to bounce around the room like stars, and you watched, breathless. The smooth floor was slick under your stiletto heels.

“It’s beautiful.” you said, and Sunghoon watched you with a smile.

“A dance, m’lady?” he asked, offering his gloved hand to you. You took it with a grin, and he pulled you into his arms.

The two of you swayed, rocking back and forth in each other’s arms as he attempted to guide you in a waltz. You were uncoordinated, and you both giggled as you tripped over your feet. His thumb rubbed across your hand as he counted out the steps for you. There was no music playing, but you could both feel the rhythm in your head, like a grand orchestra was conducting a song just for you.

When you were alone, your head was suddenly clear. The stress from earlier melted away as he gazed into your eyes, and you rested your head on his shoulder, the two of you twirling as he hummed a song under his breath.

“You’re improving,” he joked. He was right, you were no longer tripping and stumbling. You had gained a sense of the rhythm, following his lead gracefully. He extended his hand, prompting you to spin, and you did.

“I have a good teacher.” you laughed, watching your gown twirl. The dress that Sunghoon had bought you was beautiful, trailing against the ground, the crystal detailing lighting up underneath the dappled golden light. Only then did you notice the sapphire shade of his tie, and how it perfectly matched your dress. “Let’s hope the press doesn’t get wind of our fashion faux pas.” you joked, gesturing to your matching attire.

“To be honest, I don’t really care.” he said, and his honesty made you gulp.

This was all too real for you. Your feelings for him were ripping you from the inside out, and you felt too nervous to speak. The feeling in your stomach was more akin to wasps than butterflies.

“Y/n.” he said seriously. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” He was overcome with guilt. He really didn’t want to do this to you, not now, not when he knew he’d have to break the news soon. It was too soon. His time with you was too short lived, he couldn’t let it go. Not when you were the only person who made him feel complete, the only person who made life feel like it was worth continuing.

“No, I don’t.” you grinned, baiting him to say the words himself, and he chuckled. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“Maybe it’s easier without words.” he said, unclasping his hand from yours so he could trace his fingers along your cheek.

He dipped his head to kiss you, and your hands were tangled in his hair as he held you tightly. There was something desperate about the way he kissed you, holding you like you might slip through his fingers if he loosened his grip. The two of you kissed fervently, full of convolution and mixed emotions. He pulled away from you for a moment, but only for long enough to whisper,

“I love you.” You pulled away from him, his gaze intense. You always had a weakness for his eyes. It felt like they held galaxies. The weight of his words sunk upon you, and you opened your mouth to speak.

“I love you too.” you whispered.

☆☆☆

You and Sunghoon had parted ways after your illicit meeting, him fleeing to the front of the room to discuss with his father, you hesitantly retreating to your table. Chaewon was sipping vodka; Jay was nowhere to be seen.

“Everything okay?” she asked immediately, setting down her cup.

“I’m okay.” you assured her, your lips splitting into a bright smile despite your distressed exterior, and she let out a breath of relief, wrapping an arm around the back of your chair when you sat. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Same.” she agreed, taking another swig of her drink. “Though I bet your reason is different than mine.” She sent you a wink, to which you shook your head amusedly.

Your eyes were drawn to Sunghoon, standing onstage with his father. He seemed nervous, and you wanted nothing more than to be standing beside him, but you knew you couldn’t. Not in public, and you were wondering if you two would go public one day.

You would do it the moment he asked, no hesitation. And that scared you.

You picked up a glass sitting on the table that you assumed was Jay’s, taking a large swig. It burned your throat, and you put it down with a wince. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a tall and elegant woman standing on stage, honey colored hair curling gracefully on her shoulders. Her floor length golden gown sparkled in the light.

“Welcome, valued guests.” a loud voice and feedback from the microphone snapped you back into reality, and your attention was drawn to the stage, where Sunghoon’s father was speaking with a cheesy, large grin. “Thank you all for attending our fundraising gala, graciously hosted by the Parks. We appreciate all of your generous donations.” he cleared his throat. “And on behalf of my lovely son, we have some news.” You began listening, setting down your cup.

“We are delighted to announce our own Sunghoon’s engagement.”

Your face paled. You felt like the world was crashing down around you, everything muffled. You could vaguely sense that Chaewon was talking to you, but you couldn’t process it. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Sunghoon and Huh Yunjin of the Huh Company are set to wed in three months, and our companies will officially be merging.” Flashing cameras went off like grenades, the sound filling the room as the woman smiled for the camera, holding onto the arm of the man who told you he loved you. Despite the camera demanding his attention, his eyes were on you. And those beautiful eyes that you loved, they were devoid of feeling.

He stared at you, pale as a ghost, lips parted in silent surprise. The cameras snapped photos of him as he barely breathed, lost in the injured gaze of the woman who loved him. And you stood, striding towards the exit before you could even register what you were doing, ignoring the curious stares you were receiving. All you could see was the exit, the door that would lead you out of here.

The sound of cameras flashing and the hum of gossip silenced as you walked into the night, taking a deep and ragged breath. Tears spilled from your eyes before you could help it, and you swiped your palms over your face, smudging your makeup, sobbing unsteadily.

As Sunghoon watched you stand, he pulled himself away from the tight grip of Yunjin on his arm, eyes trained on your disappearing figure as panic rushed through his head. His father turned back towards him.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, urgently, as Sunghoon pushed through the crowds of paparazzi, jumping off the stage and running towards the exit. He burst through the doors, chasing you until he found your weeping figure running away.

“Y/n!” He chased after you. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, so you didn’t try. You just shook your head, turning away from him.

“Fuck off.” you replied harshly, and he grabbed your wrist.

“Please, I’m sorry, let me explain.” he begged.

“Explain?” you snapped. “Sunghoon, you’re engaged. There’s nothing to explain.”

“I don’t want to marry her.” he said desperately. “I never have, and I never will.”

“You told me you loved me,” you sobbed, wiping your eyes with your free hand, and Sunghoon’s eyes burned with tears and the cold wind.

“I do,” he said gently. “I love you more than anything.”

“Then why?” you said. “Why are you getting married?” “...I don’t have a choice. It’s for the company.” he said reluctantly, and you shook your eyes, pulling your wrist out of his grip and wiping your eyes for the last time.

“I can’t believe I thought you were different.” you laughed incredulously. “I thought you were different, but it turns out you’re exactly like your family.”

“Y/n, don’t say that.” he pleaded. “I’m not like them.”

“Yet you do what they say, slaving away for a company that does nothing but hurt people?” He went silent. “I should’ve known from the start that you would hurt me. God, I can’t believe I thought you really cared about me.” “I do.” he insisted, reaching for your hands, but you pulled away. “I care about you, I care about us-”

“There is no ‘us’, Sunghoon!” you yelled. “There never has been! Because you always knew that at the end, you’d leave me the minute someone told you to.”

“That’s not true, y/n.” he shouted. “Everything we went through, that meant something to me. I meant everything I said, I’d do anything for you! I’d leave the company if you asked me to!” You scoffed.

“You wouldn’t do that for anyone, Sunghoon. You’re too much of a coward.” He didn’t respond, his hands hanging weakly at his sides. He felt numb.

A black car roared to life, approaching from the parking lot. The windows rolled down, and you were comforted to see Jay’s stony face in the driver's seat, Chaewon watching you from the back seat with concern. He nodded to the passenger side.

“Get in.” he said, requiring no explanation. He already knew.

You ran for the car, and Sunghoon came after you. You had one hand on the handle when he caught your wrist in his fingers.

“Please,” he begged, his voice a whisper in the night as his eyes pleaded with you. “Please, don’t leave.” You almost yielded, but instead you removed your hand from his, opening the door and sliding into your seat.

“Go.” you said quietly to Jay, and he accelerated, speeding out of the lot. His hand rested on top of yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You silenced your tears, chin resting on your palm and staring out the window into the city to ignore how much your heart was aching.

☆☆☆

It had been four days since Park Sunghoon told you he was getting married to another woman. It had been three days since you called out of work sick, and two days since you blocked his number after countless missed calls. It had been only one day since you stopped crying yourself to sleep.

You weren’t used to being vulnerable. Since your father ruined both his career and your own, you were used to building up walls around yourself. You were filled with bitter irony that the person who tore those walls down was part of the family that hurt you so badly in the first place.

You felt like an absolute idiot, to say the least.

You flipped through a magazine, your hair up as you lounged in a salon chair. You had just gotten your nails done, and you tried not to smudge the gel as you flipped through pages of jewelry ads and gossip articles. When you stumbled across a promotion for cologne, Sunghoon’s handsome, smiling face decorating the page, you shut it with a sigh.

“Do you have any other magazines?” you asked the woman who came to do your hair, sharp nails gripping at the edges.

You strode down the bustling streets of Seoul, your fur coat clenched tightly around your body, a designer purse held in your free hand. You got plenty of stares as you walked down the street, some admiring, some judgemental. But you had learned not to care. You sighed, your warm breath fogging up the cold daylight, before dissipating.

The sound of screeching static froze you in place, and you turned to look at the towering screens lined up in the window of a store, all glitching. You stopped for a moment, waiting until they regained their sense, switching to a news channel.

An anchorwoman with a bad blowout and a gaudy diamond necklace was pointing very seriously at an image behind her, her other hand wrapped around a stack of papers as she read off a script.

“The business world- is sh-shocked,” she began, her voice skipping as the tvs froze and unfroze in sync. “At the alleged emancipation of Park Sunghoon from his family’s very successful enterprise. Mr. Park made a public statement this morning, claiming that he ‘would not continue to entertain unethical practices, and could not condon the idea of marrying purely for business’. Rumors are, according to inside sources from corporate high society, that he left his company for love.”

You stared quietly at the tv. A million thoughts were rushing through your head, but the majority of them were this;

You needed to find Sunghoon.

☆☆☆

The door to his apartment creaked open, Sunghoon peeking out from behind. His hair was matted to his forehead, sticking up in places, and his typical nice clothing was replaced by a white t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats. He looked like hell, but it didn’t matter; he looked the most beautiful you’d ever seen him.

“You’re not a coward.” Was the first thing you said when he opened the door.

“I am,” he replied.

“You’re not, and I didn’t mean that. I was scared.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” he said, shaking his head. “It was all my fault. I fucked up, and I lose the only person I care about in this world because of it.” You stood up a little straighter, clenching your fists.

“At the end of the day, you’re really the only one who understands me.” you said firmly, and he smiled, recognizing his own words. “Sunghoon, I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And that’s why I was so afraid of you hurting me.”

“I wish I could take it all back.” Sunghoon said, his hand tracing your cheek, too afraid to make contact. “I wasted so much of my life being complacent. You were the one that taught me to be brave.” You nodded, eyes watery. “I’m sorry that I made you mad.”

“I’m not mad.” you said very unconvincingly, and both of you laughed.

You wiped your eyes furiously, hands trembling.

“I really do love you, Sunghoon.” you said shakily, and he pulled you into his arms. You melted into his warm embrace, his arms circling your waist, holding you tight. Your touch felt so familiar, and for the first time since you left him, he felt whole again, basking in the glory of your presence. He couldn’t help but kiss you, his finger under your chin as he lifted your face to his, pressing his lips against yours eagerly.

You had forgotten all the things you adored about kissing Sunghoon. The way his hands always held you so tightly, how he always tasted like honey chapstick, and the way he smiled against your lips when you lost your hands in his hair. You were both sick with love, and you were only just beginning to realize that you didn’t need a cure.

“I love you.” he mumbled between kisses, unable to pull away. “I loved you from the start, even when everyone told me not to. Nothing could, and nothing can, stop the way I feel about you.”

“I love you, Sunghoon,” you said, your tears wetting both your face and his. “And I hate you for even considering otherwise.” he chuckled, tapping your nose with his index finger.

“Well, my reputation’s never been worse,” you giggled at your own words being used against you, as he spun you around in his arms. “So you must like me for me.” You pressed a chaste kiss onto his lips with a glowing smile.

“Mm, you’re lucky that I do.”

☆☆☆

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kousanosgf · 6 days ago

Text

men, minors dni

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

sevika x f!reader

you take care of sevika when both of you decide to spend the night at the club

tags: fluff, lap dance, oral (sevika receiving), fingering (sevika receiving)

an: was written while i was listening to my soft/chill tyla and rosalia playlist, keep it in mind for the atmosphere (⁠⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

the night was still young but the party was in a full swing. you were not yet drunk on the alcohol but the atmosphere and music made you euphoric. you were dancing for the past hour, the gentle beats of the drums, mbiras and xylophones, guitar string that jumped from upbeat to more sensual led your body. it was something you preferred more than the hard electronic noise of other clubs, which were more common in zaun.

though something or someone was missing. you left the dancefloor, making your way to the bar. a bartender nudged a glass of water your way and you took it in one swing, thankful to the woman.

hands captured your waist from behind, one real and the other mechanical, a body pressed close to your back.

"vika", you smiled and reached your hand back, sliding a palm on sevika's neck. "i'm all sweaty". you wrinkled your nose smiling.

"you often are when we're together", the woman whispered in your ear with heat but it only made you laugh. sevika was in your favorite drunk mood: touchy and blabbering sweet nonsense.

"missed you", she sighed heavily, like you didn't came here together. "well, someone could've dance with me". sevika only huffed out, grumpy, making you giggle again.

you signaled to a bartender for a new set of drinks. as you untangled yourself from sevika's grip you took the glasses, pushing one in her hand. "come on, baby", you moved away from the bar to the private booths, choosing one and closing the heavy curtains.

the booth was nice, muted colours, little trinkets hanging here and there, inviting soft and, mostly important for саун, clean pillows. sevika plopped down on the seat, drowning in the cushions.

she was too quiet today, not that she would run her mouth nonstop in your or anyone else's presence, but definitely more quite than usual. "what's wrong?", you poked her gently in the side as you took your place beside her. she just grumbled in response. okay, so no reason really, you blamed alcohol for her attitude.

"did you watch me dance?", you try to get her mind out of the dark places. you put your knees under yourself to sit a little higher to be able to put your arm around her shoulders. she leaned into your embrace.

"barely. too much people", sevika answers, clearly sulking over the fact.

she never was the one to care for parties and definitely not participating in them, usually preferring some dimly lit bars and a long card game. but ever since you appeared in her life she made sure to follow you around to the clubs. "just care for your safety, princess", sevika would say. and that's a solid reason, zaun can be harsh on anyone, so noone would say no to a woman like sevika taking a role of a bodyguard. in this case though she *loved* seeing you move as if the dancefloor was your natural habitat, your home.

"been staring at me the whole night from your dark corner. people probably think you're some creep", you joked everytime later, when you went back home or moved somewhere private, like today.

"let me make it up to you", you untangle yourself from her and climb on her lap. sevika's real hand immediately gribs your thighs, running up to cup your ass cheek.

"no touching, babe. it's a performance." you smile and slap her hand away playfully. sevika frowns but doesn't try to do anything else.

you let your hair down, slowly dragging the hair band. the muffled music changed to something more slow, fortunately setting the right mood, you hummed the tune.

sevika's gaze was turning heated and hungry by a second, following your hands as they dragged on you body, starting with you hips, going up to your sides, to your neck, tangling in your hair and moving back, all while you swayed from side to side, making waves with your torso, coming closer and father to press against sevika's body.

"don't be mean", she whined under you after couple of songs, her fingers twitching in a need to touch.

and you were being mean, you knew that. you just couldn't help yourself to tease your girlfriend when she was so cute, all mushy and relaxed.

"told you, i'll make it up to you", you leaned closer, whispering in her ear.

the sound of a zipper opening is too loud. you can feel yourself on edge already. but this is not about you. you raise your eyes, looking over sevika's face. her eyes arr closed, she's breathing heavily. she's beautiful like that, she always is, really. but something about her soft expression, how relaxed she is under you awakens butterflies in your stomach.

her hands grip your waist as you move to stand up, holding you on her lap.

"come on, vika", you protest and push her hair out of her face. "if you want something, i gotta stand up". she let's you but complains while she does it.

you slide down on the floor, sitting on your knees now in front of her. sevika feels a tap on her hips and raises them to let you make a quick work of taking off her pants and underwear.

she's not wet enough yet, you notice as you slide your fingers between her folds but it's not much of a problem. you love taking it slow with her, spending all the time in the world leaving kisses and light bites on her inner thighs, while your hands roam around her body, squeezing her waist, feeling her muscles, your fingers traveling up and down the hair on her stomach.

"please" sevika whines and that's exactly what you were waiting for, that's how you know she's ready.

you move closer, though it feels like you can't be even more, skin touching skin. your fingers slide with ease inside of her and you feel like you're the one who needs to moan in pleasure. her pussy is hot, clenching around your digits.

"so good, baby. so pretty". you praised her because how could you not. sevika holds herself from moving too much so she wouldn't mess up the game you're playing, her hips staying in place but already trembling.

"don't even need to tell you what to do, yeah? always know what i want from you".

at last, as you move the tips of your fingers inside of her, you put your mouth on her. your tongue flat, you try to get as much as you can, starting from the place your fingers connect with her hole, going up, pressing on her clit and dragging it to her press. the sounds she makes are heavenly, sevika is so worked up she moans loudly, arching her back. you sure if anyone stands right outside the booth, they could hear it. it only makes you want her more, to make her scream that everyone in the club would know how weak she's for you. the woman who scares every thug on the streets of this city turns into a soft and whiney mess in your arms. that kind of power makes you dizzy.

you suck on her clit, hollowing your cheeks to put more pressure.

"wait", sevika breaths out.

"what's wrong, baby? already ready to cum?"

both of you want it to last so you give her time, withdrawing your lips and fingers completely and going back to caressing her inner thighs.

"gonna eat you out so good, gonna make you feel so good, vika."

her hands press on your head when she decides she's ready, guiding you back to her dripping cunt.

"need to promise me one thing, though", you smile as she nods without questions.

"look at me, 'kay? don't close your eyes."

you return to where you stopped. you try to be soft and careful at first, kissing her folds, occasionally flicking your tongue between them or pressing it on her clit, all while you hold her gaze. you smirk and huff out as her eyes remind you of some sad puppy, asking for more.

"fuck", she swears as you quicken you moves, getting messier. you can swear that's where you belong. between her thighs, squeezing your head so all the noise becomes muffled, like you're underwater, your tongue deep inside of her and your nose rubbing her clit.

it's cute, you think, how obedient she is for you, still trying to look you in the eyes, as you asked her, fighting the need to roll them back and just arch her back, leaning her head on the sofa back.

your face is drenched in her juices, few drops falling on the floor between your knees. you're so worked up, your panties are probably all wet but your pleasure isn't a top priority now. and honestly seeing sevika brake under your mouth is pleasurable enough.

as you feel her squirming and moaning more and more, you know she's close, so you put your arms under her knees and raise them on your shoulders. she never lets you do it while she still can control the situation, worried that it's too much for your smaller frame. but now sevika is going crazy with her own pleasure and you don't have to deny yourself.

it takes her couple more seconds to cum finally. her eyes roll back and she gives herself a moment of weakness as she throws her head back but quickly returns back to hold your gaze when she remembers your request.

you guide her through her orgasm, slowing your moves and letting go of her legs.

"relax, sweetheart", you laugh as you finally tear yourself from her pussy and climb back in her lap. your hand covers her eyes and you feel her eyelashes flutter, tickling your palm.

"you're a dream, vika."

sevika reaches for your lips and you meet her halfway through. the kiss is slow and sloppy, both of you need time to get some air and steady your breath. her cheeks now wet too. it does something to you, seeing her own juice on her face, makes you want more of her.

"fuck, vika. gonna destroy you when we get home. promise."

#sevika x reader #arcane #arcane netflix #sevika #sevika x y/n #wlw #lesbian

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unluckilyimnot · 6 months ago

Note

Hi there please could i get headcanons for umemiya, suo, kyotaru and togame on what their love languages are/how they display their affection?

Love language - sakura, umemiya, suo, kaji, kyotaro, togame, kiryuu

m.list | rules

Note: omg that's my favorite thing to do !! If you didn't ask I would've done it anyway. Thank you so much for asking ! Also !! We're close to hitting 2k ! Thank you sm everyone, I'm making something for you ♡

Sakura - quality time

He's anxious at the idea of touching you to be honest, he needs time for this but wants to in the end. Yet it's too much for him, so instead he wants to spend time with you. At your place or his, when he's walking around the street. He doesn't even try to touch your hand or anything but he's on alert all the time because he would hate himself if something happens to you.

He shares the things he gets from the citizens with you, so he can spend more time with you and you always look so happy when he brings you those small pieces of bread.

Suo - act of service + physical touch

He can tease the shit out of you, he will always do it while carrying your bag or opening the door for you. He wants you to rely on him, to trust him and if you need anything, to just ask him. He will get it for you. You're scared to come home alone ? He'd gladly walk you home. You need to clear your mind or want to see him when he's already busy ? He's not anymore, and he's going wherever you like with you.

He's subtle about touching you, but he's constantly doing it. It can be fixing your hair with a kind smile when it doesn't really need to be fixed. It's guiding you with his hand on your back or letting his fingers linger on the back of your hand and your arm. He sometimes lets his fingers smooth the side of your thighs if you're sitting next to each other. He just really likes it when nobody can really tell. Unless it's Sakura, then he's all on display, hugging you, touching your cheeks and kissing it.

Kaji - gifts giving + word of affirmation

By gifts, I think he wants to give you things like food or candy and eat with you. He feels better when he sees you smile and accept it gladly. Even more if you're not really into sweets. He makes you a playlist out of the blue, with songs you two might like or even listening to your fav artist even if he doesn't like them to make a playlist with the songs he likes so you know.

He tells you things that seem like nothing serious but you know it means a lot for him. He lets you know that he trusts you, that he feels better and calmer around you or whenever he appreciates something that you do. It gets you all the time, making you blush

Kyotaru - quality time + act of service

He's not big for words, instead he wants to do things with you and for you. He kinda follows you around. When you ask if he wants to do something with you, he always nods and carries your bag or what you brought for you. He likes to come shopping with you, so he can nod when he finds something pretty on you.

He also really likes it when you come around and do things with him ! Including gardening, sadly if you don't really like it. But you know it makes him really happy.

Umemiya - word of affirmation + physical touch

He tells you that he loves you or how good you look all the time. He notices every change and compliments you all the time. He lets you know what he likes the most about you, physically or with your personality. It can go from how you styled your hair to you bringing him snacks during the day ‘cause he forgets to eat sometimes.

He’s a very cuddly guy. He always wants to welcome you with a hug or a kiss - mostly both - and same for goodbyes ! Don’t you dare go without kissing him and squishing his hand in yours. He’ll get sulky. You get shy sometimes at the fact that he spends his time with his arms around your shoulders but at the same time that makes you both feel safe that you can’t blame him.

Togame - physical touch

He’s on you all the time. He likes to have you close so it's easier to check on you and make sure that everything is alright. He can lay his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him and nuzzle his nose into your neck or cheek. He loves the fact that it makes you blush all the time. He lays his head on yours or your shoulders too, and closes his eyes. He likes to take naps on you as well ! On your thighs particularly.

Kiryuu - quality time + physical touch

He really likes to do his own things with you next to him, but literally. He wants to feel your thighs against his. Or you laying on him/his laps while being on your phone or reading and vice versa. It's his favorite place to play video games. It works too if you just want to cuddle and let him play, so that's perfect. He's always holding your hand outside, no questions. He puts it in his pocket if he feels that your hand gets cold.

Let me know if you liked it !

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wardenparker · 13 days ago

Text

In the Still of the Night, ch 2

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Just more shameless flirting, a bit of self-consciousness, first date nerves and anxiety. Summary: Zach flirts with a specially cooked meal, you flirt with some specially chosen songs, and embarking on your first date brings a lot of shared nerves to overcome. Notes: It never takes me too long to fall in love with these new pairs but I just *adore* Zach and his soulmate so damn much.

Ch 1

If you take a little extra time and care in getting ready for your show the next night, who can blame you? A purple velvet gown and black satin gloves, shimmering rhinestone jewelry, red lipstick and your hair just so — you can tell yourself it’s all for the gig but the butterflies in your stomach know better. It’s because you’re excited to see Zach, even if you’re a little nervous too. Last night had been fun, and you hope that even in the harsh light of day that he thinks so too.

Zach couldn’t sleep last night. He was tired but then again, so energized by the entire night he had spent with you. Already on his third coffee by the time the prep cooks had come in from the breakfast shift – it was his off day from that – he had cleaned up from the night before and completely changed his idea for the specials of the night. All with you in mind.

“We should do something special tonight.” Is the suggestion you give to the band while you’re warming up, only to receive skeptical looks from three of the four guys.

“Special how?” Keo asks, twirling his drumsticks. It’s a habit, one formed before he could really walk since his father was also a drummer.

“Maybe a theme night?” The guys will bust you to no end if you admit that all you want to sing is love songs, but it’s true.

Shane is the only one that starts grinning, having witnessed the nearly moony, floating on air attitude of his roommate when he came back to the cabin last night. Or rather this morning. “How about some love songs?” He suggests slyly.

Working hard to sound nonchalant always backfires in the end, but you shrug (a little too performatively) and aim for a breezy tone when you agree. “Oh! Sure. Sure— I mean, if that sounds good to you guys.”

“Anything in mind?” Shane probes, seeing right through your little casual agreement and wondering how well the night went. You and Zach were in the kitchen for a long time.

“We could do some classics?” Waving one hand and pretending to think of things if the cuff, you’re determined not to admit you’ve had a few songs cycling through your head all day. “Maybe some Cole Porter? ‘Let’s Do It’ and ‘Let’s Misbehave’ always go over well.”

“Only if we add ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’.” Shane adds. “Diana loves it and I’ll send her the video tonight.” All the performances are recorded by the sound and lights crew for internal use and promotion reels for the supper club. She sometimes gets the videos of nights Shane is super proud of.

“Of course.” You’re quick to agree, mostly because it’s a song you all do well but also because you like Shane’s soulmate a lot. Diana is a badass and a sweetheart all at once.

“Sound good to you guys?” They will all add their own songs to the playlist before the night is over.

“That works.” Cliff is preoccupied with selling a new reed in his sax and shrugs. “Love songs usually get us better tips.”

“Then we will focus on the love songs.” Shane agrees. “Wonder what the chef is making for tonight? Hopefully something rich and sinful.”

“No clue.” You breeze right by the question as if you and Zach hadn’t talked about your favorite foods last night. As if you aren’t hoping just a little bit that he is thinking of you as much as you are of him.

“Hey chef.” Zach’s right-hand man, his sous chef, looks puzzled as he stares at the pans of cakes cooling on the stainless steel counters. “What’s all this?” Zach looks up from the sauce that he is simmering on the stove and beams. “Red velvet cake for the dessert tonight.”

"Hell of a left turn from ice cream." His sous chef observes, looking out at the seemingly endless counter of edible red sponge.

“Fits the rest of the menu.” Zach agrees. “I’ve changed all of it.” He waves towards the paper sitting on the table. “Tell me what you think.”

The menu written out on the wipe board is completely different than what was set out earlier in the week. In place of the popular shrimp scampi or chicken cordon bleu are the far more sumptuous options of a seafood stuffed salmon with cream sauce or a filet with a beurre blanc. The kitchen's traditional spinach salad has been scrapped for a strawberry balsamic salad instead, and the broccoli rabe or roasted potato options are now grilled asparagus or honey whipped carrots. It's a beautiful menu, for sure. But... "What prompted the change?"

Zach grins as he looks at the younger man. He’s handsome and already engaged to his soulmate back in his home country. “I was inspired.” Zach admits shamelessly. “Romance. This is a menu for romance.” He tells him. “I want the guests to be seduced by their meal.”

"Oh yes?" The younger man laughs, immediately dropping his towel on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest as he leans in that same place. "There is a lady?"

“No.” Zach shakes his head. “An angel.” He’s being completely ridiculous, but he can’t help it. He was asked out. On a date. By the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen in his life. If that wasn’t inspiring, he doesn’t know what would be.

"Ooh la la!" The saucier, standing not two steps away, hears the seemingly magic words and perks up. "Only an angel? Not a goddess?" She teases. Zach might drive the staff hard but he is a good boss and well liked in his kitchen.

“Not quite yet.” Zach huffs and tries not to blush like a school boy.

"It's not a passenger, is it?" The kitchen is now buzzing with the gossip.

Zach’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. He’s heard of some crew risking their jobs for liaisons with passengers but he wouldn’t be willing to risk his future like that. “Absolutely not.” He huffs, appropriately horrified.

“Boss wouldn’t be that stupid.” Zach’s saucier defends.

He’s a little placated that they don’t believe he would do that. “But the point is, I want tonight to be special for our guests.” He bites his lip. “Check with the sommelier and see what wine and cocktail pairings we can come up with please?”

“On it!” Comes a call from a few feet away, and one of his staff that was just watching her hands disappears around the corner to track the sommelier down in his office.

Zach smiles, happy his staff works as a cohesive unit and can handle the occasional curve ball thrown their way.

They can always hear it in the kitchen when the band starts warming up. They may not have a speaker but the strains of music from the dining room are unmistakable regardless of being faint. Zach's sous chef has just about turned around to go back to work when he hears it and clocks the grin on his boss's face. "Oh damn."

“What?” He asks innocently, turning back to his sauce and trying to wipe the grin off his face, but it’s impossible.

"It's her, isn't it?" Nobody's missed the extra attention Zach pays to the singer of the club's band whenever she's performing, or the way he always wants to know if she liked her dinner, or the way he hums to himself a little along with the music. The last one they're not even sure he realizes he's doing, but they've all heard it.

“Let’s just focus on dinner.” He’s not avoiding the conversation, but maybe your feelings have changed since last night or the date you asked him on never materializes or goes horribly. This could fizzle out and then he will be stuck mooning over you and all his staff will know it.

Family meal is the same on a cruise ship, but plates of the dinner that is being served to the passengers always go out to the band when their warmups are over. Yesterday’s kerfluffle with one of the waitresses having an emergency and missing family meal isn’t repeated today and the plating of what will do out to the band is extremely intentional.

“This plate is to have both specials.” Zach instructs before he takes the plate himself. “Never mind, I will do it myself.”

His staff only exchanges smirks as Zach plates an exquisite dish with portions of each thing, and a tray is loaded with dishes to bring out to one of the tables in the dining room for the band to eat before service begins for the night.

Zach argues with himself about taking you the plate personally, but he had settled for marking it and giving clear instructions that that particular plate be given to you. He bites his lip as he wonders if you will like it before he inevitably has to get back to work.

The tray that comes out of the kitchen is laden down with heavy plates, and while you always love the smells coming out of the kitchen at the club they seem even better tonight.

“Oh yum.” Keo is the first to put eyes on the tray coming out of the kitchen, but only because you were forcing yourself to wait three settings before looking to see if it’s Zach bringing it your dinner.

It’s a disappointment when it’s not.

Rachel, a perky and charming Filipina, with a smile to match, comes to being your food. She makes a big show of the plates for the rest of the band, but she huffs and shoos them away when they approach your chaffer covered plate. “It’s special!” She huffs before bringing it over to you. “Zach said this plate was yours and yours alone.” She tells you with a wink. “Enjoy.”

"That's either ominous or adorable." Shane observes, watching you fluster and try not to giggle as you uncover your plate. "What the hell did you guys do last night?"

"It wasn't like that." You huff, rolling your eyes at him as you remove the cloche over your plate. But a second later you gasp and press one open hand to your chest in shock. "Oh...oh my god..." He did it...he actually did it... You think, absolutely astonished.

According to you, surf and turf is your dream meal, but you are bored by it just being shrimp and steak or steak and lobster. Stuffed salmon being a thing of beauty in your eyes and you had complained about mashed potatoes always being served with it. So Zach had worked his magic and come up with this menu especially for you.

"Rachel?" You hold the waitress up for just one second, with a beaming smile plastered across your face. "Will you please tell him it's perfect?" With your voice gone soft and dreamy, it probably makes the point all the more deeply. "And I can't wait to have every last bite."

“Dessert is under the other cloche.” She points out with a grin, happy to report back to the kitchen that you are just as enamored with Zach as he is with you.

With all four of your bandmates staring at you expectantly as Rachel walks away, you can pout for about three seconds but you're not going to be able to enjoy your meal without explaining yourself. "He asked me what my favorite meal was. My dream meal. And...I love surf and turf, but it's always the same old thing, ya know? And...he went and reinvented the whole thing." It's the most romantic thing you can possibly think of, honestly, to see the hard work and creative thought that he put into something you told him in the dead of night. He put a little piece of his soul into this meal and he did it just for you. It makes you want to run right back into that kitchen and find out if he kisses as thoroughly as he cooks.

“So…he just…whipped up your dream meal and you are gagging to sing love songs?” Shane whistles low. “You two have it bad!” He pumps his fist happily. “I knew it was a good idea to send you into that kitchen with his drink.”

"Shut up." It was an amazing idea, but you're not going to give the man who has become your adoptive big brother that much credit. It will go to his head. For now you just roll your eyes at him and pick up your fork. All four of them are looking at you expectantly though, and you pick up the first bite of stuffed salmon while throwing all of them a slightly guilty look. "I asked him out, okay? He's more than just ridiculously hot and incredibly talented."

The four men start to cheer, high five-ing each other because they know that is a huge step for you. “Good for you.” Rick tells you. “You deserve a little happiness.”

"Keep your fingers crossed for me that it goes well," you insist, pointing a finger at all four of them. Your tendency to accidentally tank first dates is well documented.

“Just don’t— uh, do you things.” Shane supplies unhelpfully with a grin.

“What the hell does that mean?” You huff, scrunching your nose at him.

“Well, how about you not pour scalding hot coffee on his crotch?” Shane suggests with a wince.

“Or not tell him you would make cute babies together.” Cliff adds.

“Those are two fucking extremes.” Keo snorts, apparently enjoying this impromptu roast.

“But she’s done them!” Shane cackles, shaking his head.

“And I was right both times.” You assert, though you’re still huffing a little for good measure. “The jackass who told me ‘singers are just modern prostitutes’ more than deserved scalding coffee on his crotch, and the sweet Midwestern guy would have made cute as hell babies.”

“Well, I’m sure if you tell Zach that you’d make cute babies together, the boy would probably combust.” Keo snorts. “He seems a little pent up, right Shane?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “He’s not hitting on passengers like your dumbass.” He reminds the other band member. “But Zach’s a good dude, he’s got his history, but I would never have encouraged our girl’s crush if I thought he wouldn’t be good for her.”

“Everybody has history,” you reason, though at the same time you entertain such a serious thought, you’re practically bouncing in your seat from how amazing this dinner is.

“I can’t throw stones, that’s for damn sure.” Shane isn’t sure how much Zach has told you, but it’s not his place to tell his story.

“Nobody can, man.” Cliff agrees. He and Shane go back far enough that he knows the other man’s demons well. And shares some of them, too. “Everybody gets a second chance around here. Sometimes a fourth or fifth chance.”

“Little boat of dreamers”. Cliff agrees, although the ship is far from little. Not as big as some of the mega cruise liners, she can still accommodate two thousand passengers.

"I'll drink to that," you agree, picking up your water glass in salute.

“So, what’s for dessert?” Shane asks, smirking slightly.

"Let's see." After a sip of water, you put your glass aside again and open the smaller cloche that the waitress had put int front of you. The slice of red velvet cake you reveal is immaculate with no colors bleeding between layers and a gleaming cream cheese icing gluing together moist red sponges. It looks like something out of a cookbook or a competition food show. It looks absolutely stunning.

And more than that, your expression softens instantly. "Red velvet is my favorite cake..." you admit quietly, flustered all over again.

Shane whistles, waggling his eye brows. “What did you do to that man last night?” He teases. “It musta been good good.”

"Nothing!" Even though you insist it, you can see the skepticism in your bandmates. "I swear, we didn't even kiss or anything! We just flirted a bunch and I asked him out. That's it."

“Didn’t even kiss.” Rick snorts. “Then that man has you up on a pedestal so high you can reach the fuckin’ moon, sister.”

******

You knew the night of love songs would go over well, but the reception you get from guests is truly exceptional tonight. People are responding with such enthusiasm that some are getting up to dance when they've finished eating. The rendition of 'Let's Do It' that your band does is upbeat and hopeful. People are moving in their seats and some are dancing, but everyone is enjoying themselves – but those aren't the reactions that mean the most to you tonight.

The man standing by the kitchen door is the one you've been looking out for tonight, and you flash a bright smile in Zach's direction when you manage to catch his eye.

This is for you in one simple smile.

Zach is utterly taken by you. The way you sway gracefully to the beat of the music and make every audience member think you are singing to them. He wants to believe you are singing to him, and his stomach erupts into a swarm of butterflies when you smile at him.

It’s a bright song, joyful and optimistic, and easy to get caught up in. When the final chord comes you’re nearly giggling with the floating sense of delight that dances across the music, and with Zach still standing by the kitchen door, you look back to the band. Shane gives you a nod and an affectionate eye roll because he knows exactly what you’re up to, but you don’t care. It’s halfway through the set anyway.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a short break,” you announce, and turn to pick up your water glass before hopping off stage to stride back toward the corner of the dining room.

Zach straightens up when he sees you walking towards him. Looking like vision, like one of those damsels in the gangster movies that were so popular when his grandpa was alive.

Confident right up until the last stride when you get nervous and end up grinning awkwardly. “Hey,” murmur, feeling silly all of a sudden.

“Hi.” He smiles at you and lifts a brow in admiration. “You have the entire crowd eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They’re not the ones I care about,” you admit, though it feels awkward to say. When you’re up in front of them, the guests are everything. But…not tonight. “Dinner was incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I was hoping you got to eat while it was hot.” He won’t admit that he was waiting to hear what you thought, because that should be obvious.

“Rachel brought it with very strict instructions.” Which you still think was cute as hell. A little thought goes such a very long way. “It was absolutely perfect. Thank you. Really.”

“Wanted you to have something you enjoyed.” He knows that you enjoy his meals, but this one was specially for you. “Took a look at my schedule.”

“Yeah?” Excitement makes your heart jump up into your throat.

“Yeah.” He shuffles slightly. “I’ve got the overnight port day next week.“ One port of call is all day and overnight, not departing until the next morning to give the passengers a chance to experience the nightlife.

“Me too.” Your head studied your schedule and memorized it so you could actually fix this date, and knowing instantly makes it so worthwhile. “Want to go traipsing around an old palace in Crete with me?”

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks, knowing he will be happy to spend any time doing anything with you. “I think we are allowed to book some of the tours.”

“I looked up what the excursions were,” you admit, wondering if that sounds too cringey somehow. That you were so excited you just had to look it up. “You know…in case we were able to go? It’s the tour of the old palace and an olive oil maker. I thought both sounded like fun, so whatever you want to do.”

“Olive oil?” That immediately piques his interest and he grins. “The olive oil we can get here is soooo much better than the shit in the states.” He chuckles.

“Why don’t we do both, then?” Being surprised that Zach is interested in something food related is like being surprised the sun has risen, but you don’t mind. It would be fun to learn something with him. “And maybe we can get lunch in between? Our first date would be a whole day but that sounds nice to me.”

“Only if you let me buy you lunch.” Being able to pay for things is one of his biggest joys and one of the things that he is proudest of. Especially now that he’s learned to adapt his food insecurity from his time on the streets into something that brings him in a steady paycheck and joy.

“If you insist.” You’re not above enjoying a treat, but since you did ask him, you’ll take care of all the arrangements and any other costs. That only seems fair.

“Zach.” The door behind him swings open. “There’s a request for another main course.” He turns around and nods before looking back at you. “Break a leg, sweetheart.” He grins. “That’s what you say right? Never understood it. Your legs are too pretty to break.”

��What, these old things?” It’s just a little joke to go along with the flattery, but to pull up the skirt of your dress just enough to show a little of one calf and toss him the biggest, flirtiest wink. “Go knock ‘em dead, chef.”

“You are wicked.” He snorts, smirking back at you and nodding before he disappears back into the kitchen, that brief glimpse of skin almost too enticing.

******

The week goes by at nearly a crawl. Every night has repeats of this one, where Zach makes stunning meals and you sing deeply pointed songs. By the time the morning of your excursion-date finally arrives, River is rolling her eyes at you and practically shoving you out the door of the room you share because she's sick of hearing you giggle at your phone at all hours. Texting Zach has become a serious habit.

‘Meet me at the gangway’ is the text that flashes across his screen, making him grab his wallet, his sunglasses and move to put on more deodorant. Crew can get off the ship ten minutes before the passengers, so you had both agreed to start the day off as early as possible. “See ya!” He calls to Shane who is still in the shower.

"Don't desecrate any monuments!" Shane calls back, figuring Zach probably hasn't heard him. The kid has had such tunnel vision about this day that he doesn't think anything could penetrate his skull long enough to deter him from meeting you. Which is sweet, actually. It's nice to see his friends excited. "Have fun!"

The door is already slamming shut and Zach makes a beeline for the stairs. Khaki shorts, a plain white t-shirt that is brand new and comfortable sneakers is what he has ultimately decided on. Plain but decent.

You're up on deck checking your purse for the fourth time when you catch sight of him coming your way, and it's a good damn thing that you're wearing sunglasses so he can't see you ogling him from fifteen yards away. You're glad you didn't dress up too much when you see him -- the same basic outfit of sneakers, shorts, and a shirt works for both of you -- but what's plain on him lets his natural good looks shine through and heads are turning as he walks your way.

“Hey.” Zach lights up when he sees you. You look amazing in a pair of black shorts and red shirt, both of you having the same idea of comfort over high fashion. “You look amazing.”

"You're not too bad yourself." Instinct has you moving to give him a hug, and even though it's the first time you've done that it seems to be welcome.

You smell incredible. Thats the first thing that he’s thinking as he holds you against his own body for far too brief a moment before you are pulling away. “All set?” He asks. “Have to admit I’ve been looking forward to this.”

"I have been, too." He's even more fit that he looks if that brief hug is any indication, and your damn mind if going to be wandering the whole day now that you know that. "We're all set. I even got a few recommendations of places for lunch from River. She's been through here before."

“That’s good, I’ve been researching this port every night to find out all I can.” He wants to offer to hold something as you dig your crew card out of your purse, but he doesn’t.

It takes a second but you manage it, and before too long you're on your way. The deep instinct to reach out and hold his hand is already there but you don't want to seem pushy, so you settle for walking side by side until the urge is mutual.

“It’s a gorgeous day.” Zach observes, blinking against the bright light after coming off the ship. You’ve been scanned out and you don’t have to be back on board until thirty minutes before departure tomorrow morning. Although you’ll probably both be back on board well before then. “I was hoping for clear skies.”

"If it stays like this, we can walk everywhere and spend time sitting out on the beach." It's been a week of daydreaming about every romantic scenario you could think of, and sitting with him on the crystal clear beaches overlooking the ocean as the sun went down was very high up on the list.

He flashes you a quick smile. “That sounds good.” He agrees, although he’s had plenty of days where he’s spent time sitting and staring out at the horizon for very different reasons than a day with a beautiful lady.

A whole day off together is a hell of a first date. As much as you have been looking forward to it you're also a little nervous. You can't remember the last time you went on a good first date and you've realized this week that this crush you have on Zach is big and deep and could easily become so much more. Just thinking about it makes you more nervous, which unintentionally makes you quieter.

“So- uh, I’m -“ Zach trips over his words until he snorts at himself and looks over at you with a rueful grin. “I’m nervous as hell.” He admits.

For a second your eyes widen in surprise, then you burst out into a moment of relieved giggles that you can barely smother. "Oh, thank god," you manage through the laughter. "I felt like an idiot being nervous when we see each other every day, but if it's both of us? That's so much better."

Zach snorts, chuckling himself and shaking his head at the two of you. Both of you sweating bullets over this date. “Well now we have to relax.” He tells you.

“Sure, sure.” The most serious nods of your head you can summon still end up punctuated by a laugh. “Because forced relaxation always works.”

He hums. “Yeah, that’s about the time I’ll trip over my shoelaces and push you into the ocean.” He jokes. “Or some of the dumbest, most random and horrifying shit will pop out of my mouth and I will have to quit my job and move to the moon to make sure I never accidentally run into you again.”

“Well, I’m a very strong swimmer and I promise I say dumb shit too. All the time.” By the time the two of you are off the ship with both feet firmly in the island, you offer Zach a self-deprecating shrug. “I’m in my own head because of some shit the guys said. I just…really like you. So I don’t want to fuck this up by accident.”

“What did they say?” Zach’s shoulders instantly tense and even though you just said you didn’t want to fuck this up, his mind races as he wonders if Shane has told you about his past. His stomach twists in the anticipation of rejection when you ask if he was really homeless.

“Not to be so me.” You roll your eyes. “I have a tendency to make my mind up about people pretty quickly and don’t mind voicing it. Shane, like the surrogate big brother he is, told me to try to chill the fuck out.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He frowns. “Having good people instincts is a good self-preservation skill.” He snorts.

“That’s what I think!” And it’s a fucking relief to be agreed with, if you’re honest. “But apparently pouring hot coffee on people who act like assholes is bad manners.”

He barks out a laugh. “Nahhhhh.” He shakes his head. “People don’t get corrected anymore on their behavior and it’s sad.”

“I could not agree more.” You’re both laughing, letting the tension and the nerves melt away. “I just…I guess first dates are hard for everyone.”

“This is my first date in….a long time.” Zach admits, sliding his hands in his pockets to cover up how his shoulders automatically inch up in self-consciousness. “So I won’t be judging you at all.”

“Well I count myself very lucky that you said yes, then.” To your way of thinking, there is no way that Zach lacks options. He must just be picky. And if that’s the case then you’re even happier that he agreed to this.

He chuckles and his hand comes out of his pocket, making him roll his eyes at his own little tells and he offers you his hand. “So we don’t trip and fall unless it’s together?” He offers playfully.

“Sounds perfect.” It’s almost silly to think, as you fit your hand into his, that that may very well have already started to happen. And you can’t help wondering if it has for him too.

******

It takes about an hour to meet up with your tour group and get loaded up on the buses to the ruins. Some of the other tourists are from the ship, but there’s a sense of anonymity that you are enjoying and Zach smile as you pull out your phone for pictures.

With your hand still tucked in his, you walk through the ancient ruins of the palace and practically sigh, imagining the lives that must have been lived in these halls. Talking about the songs sung, the food eaten, the stories told for hundreds of years. It had the air of a dream, one that swirls around you and seems to pull you closer at every turn.

“You just get this feeling, don’t you?” Zach asks in awe. “The history of this place. It’s seeped into the stones, into the dirt under our feet.”

“It’s everywhere.” And you hold his hand a little tighter, like the excitement is making you giddy but that’s actually mostly him.” Like how many other couples have walked this specific hallway, ya know?”

“Forbidden lovers, newlyweds, fights of passion, declarations of love.” Zach hums.

Something inside you makes you beam, and you laugh again softly. “First dates?”

“I’m not sure?” He chuckles. “Did they have first dates back then? I can’t imagine too many people choose Crete as a first date.”

“Well that’s a shame.” You frown, looking directly at him rather than all around you. “The view is great.”

“Agree completely.” He squeezes your hand gently. “Best view in the house.”

“I’m glad…” Even shrugging slightly, you can feel tie cheeks heating up for at least the third time today. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m cheesy. Or…that you at least accept it.”

“I’m not lactose intolerant.” He teases. “Cheese is one of my favorite things.”

“Oh, so you might actually be worse than me.” That is a delightful surprise, making you lean in closer to his side as you walk along the halls.

“Easier to be cheesy than giving into depression and anger.” He tells you honestly. “I have at least one thing to be grateful for every day.”

"That is a remarkably healthy outlook," you agree, admittedly impressed with the focus of it. Shane has hinted that Zach has some demons in his past but not revealed any of them. "I have to give you a lot of credit. I wasn't nearly that positive when shit was hard."

Zach shrugs. “I’ve been as low as I could possibly get.” He admits. “Everything looks up from there.”

"Everything might not be coming up roses, but at least things are getting better." They are for you, too. Hopefully, at least. You were in a pretty rough place when you and the band took this cruise ship gig and going back to dry land is something you're dreading. But that isn't a thought to dwell on. Not today. So instead, you change the subject. "Do you like flowers?"

“I do.” He nods, grinning and shrugging again. “They are pretty and smell good.” He squeezes your hand. “Like you.”

Maybe he is just as cheesy as you, you think, but you don't mind at all. Instead you're both grinning again as you make your way around another corner in the ruins of Knossos Palace. For once, there is a small amount of privacy and shade. The beating sun is lovely and bright, but also very warm. "Tell me something." The of your nerves isn't a mystery. You've caught yourself looking at his lips for the thousandth time this week and wondering if they feel half as soft as they look. You have to shake it off though, and not be so goddamn pushy. You don't have to kiss on the first date. There's no rule about it. Even if you really fucking want to, he might not. And you like him enough to be okay waiting. So you stick to that subject change hard. "Anything at all."

There’s so much he can tell you, so much he has to tell you if you make it past this first date. But he doesn’t want to make things too heavy. “I hate beets.” He tells you seriously.

Maybe you shouldn't be surprised that it's food oriented, but the vehemence of his answer takes you aback and makes you laugh all at once. "Okay. Beets are the enemy. Got it." Have you ever even eaten a beet before? Could you pick one out of a line up? Who knows. But they're the enemy now.

Zach grins along with you and starts to swing your arms between you lightly. “What about you? What deep dark secrets can you reveal on the first date?”

"Deep dark secrets, huh?" Pretending to think for a long moment, you hem and haw dramatically before you break down into a giggle again. It's nothing groundbreaking, though you debate actually telling him something serious. This doesn't seem like the time for that. At least not to you. "I hate sleeping in more than underwear," you admit, biting back a grin.

He nearly stumbles over the gravel, choking out a cough. Eyes wide and he gives you an almost comical look. “I— fuck!” He huffs. “I’m supposed to just sit on that?”

That grin you were holding on to blossoms wide and mischievous, and you can't help but feel just a tiny bit pleased with yourself for getting a big reaction out of him. "Well, ideally?" You tilt your head, aiming that grin at him. "I would be sitting on you."

“Oh god.” He grunts, closing his eyes and mouthing a small prayer. “Jesus.”

"Too much?" It feels like it might have been, and you can just hear Shane's voice in your head telling you that he told you so. "I—um—sorry. I just...forget I said anything."

“No.” He squeezes your hand in his as you try to pull away. “No, I can’t forget that, I just—” He opens his eyes and swallows. “I’m trying to be a gentleman and not be saluting everyone that walks by us.”

"I'll reel it in," you promise, though now you can see the flush of pinkish-red going all the way from his forehead down to his cheeks and throat and disappearing under his t-shirt. It just makes you a little desperate to know if he blushes all the way down to his chest or not. "But...you're still cute when you blush."

“I am?” He was so sure that you would be either amused or annoyed that he would react like that. He arches a brow in surprise.

“I have never told you anything but the truth.” And you plan to keep to that. If you actually want to consider this more than just a possible fling, it’s mandatory.

“I guess that I’m cute when I’m embarrassed.” Zach snorts. “And you’re pretty when you’re being mean.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

“How am I being mean?” Sure you’re teasing him. That’s undeniable. But it’s not like you’re dangling a carrot in front of his face that you never intend on letting him devour.

He cuts his eyes before he rolls them. “You are funny.” He snorts.

“I know I tease.” You’re not completely blind to your own behavior. “But I guess it’s not ‘toned down’ to tell you that coming on too strong and scaring people away is a very me thing to do. Which just makes Shane right. And he can never know that.”

“I don’t mind it at all.” He promises. “I just— I want to make sure that I don’t make a fool of myself.” He believes that this is going to be intense, and yet he wants to make it perfect. “I have a lot of respect for you.”

"I have a lot of respect for you, too." In the plethora of people you have dated, that is such an unexpected thing for him to say that you actually stand up a little straighter. "But I think...being emotional and vulnerable...making a fool of yourself is inevitable at some point, isn't it? Maybe that's why I tend to do it with such reckless abandon."

“I don’t know if you could ever be a fool.” He argues. “You wear your heart on your dress.” He tells you. “That’s why your audiences love you so much. It’s you on that stage beneath the hair and makeup and fancy dresses.”

"I'm...also wearing my heart on my sleeve right now," you point out gently. "And am kind of making a fool of myself in the process. But that's okay. It's just part of being human."

Oh. Zach stops, turning to face you right at the entrance to the ancient courtyard. The pillars standing guard as he searches your face for a moment before he is cupping your cheek. “Then I’m a fool too.” He promises, leaning in to press his lips gently to yours like he’s imagined doing all morning.

The little sound of relief and pleasure you make might have been embarrassing if anyone nearby had paid attention, but you also don't care at all. Zach's broad form bends when he leans in and blots out the sun even before your eyes fall shut. He doesn't push too deep and it doesn't last more than a few seconds, but you can feel something inside you start to glow when Zach kisses you. Like he found a light switch that you never knew wasn't flipped to the right position.

When you pull away, Zach is smiling, feeling the way you melted against him. “That was…amazing.” He hums quietly.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You sound dreamy and soft, but since you feel dreamy and soft it seems appropriate.

He leans in and kisses you once more, this time even quicker than before. “Then let’s be fools together.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x female reader #Zach Wellison x you #Zach Wellison x f!reader #Brothers & Sisters #Shane Dio Morrissey #Shane Dio Morrissey x female OC #NYPD Blue #soulmate au #Soulmate Sunday #cruise ship au #first date #first kiss

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romana-after-dark · 11 months ago

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Room's on Fire: Pilot

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.

"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.

Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”

“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”

Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”

With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”

Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”

The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.

They needed their Madonna.

Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.

His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.

So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.

So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.

“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.

Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.

“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.

“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”

“So you think she’s intact?”

“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”

Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.

“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.

Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”

Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.

He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”

Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting. Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”

Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”

“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.

“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”

“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”

Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”

You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…

Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…

You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?

You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?

The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.

He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”

“But it is, of course, your choice.”

Your choice…

This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.

There was no choice.

“I am a servant to my lords.”

Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”

The what?

“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”

“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course then.”

Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.

“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.

Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.

“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.

Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”

Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”

“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.

“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.

“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”

Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”

You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”

You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.

Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.

“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”

He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”

“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”

The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.

“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.

Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”

All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”

William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.

You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.

“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”

“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.

“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.

Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.

“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”

“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”

A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.

“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”

The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”

He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.

“My Madonna.”

WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long

PLEEAASEEEE LMK YOU'RE THOTS AND THEORIES!!!!

Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

TAGLIST:

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado

if I missed you LMK!!!!

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lixiemissexotic · 2 years ago

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𝐺𝑌𝐴𝐿 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑯𝒀 # !

𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠⤷ there is like zero Caribbean representation in fics so you know ya girl has try to fix that shit. Caribbean girls on top🕺🏽 so it’s not right that we ain’t got shit. please reblog and lmk if y’all like this.

𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠⤷ 𝐸𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑. 𝐸𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑛! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

since the night you and eren met at a party you’ve basically been inseparable since. you two have been together for a while now and it’s safe to say you guys are the IT couple.

lmfaoo at first when your friends would catch you simping they’d be like “what happens to gazah forever” and start laughing. But they mean well it’s all jokes they like seeing you and eren so happy with each other.

a few people thought it wouldn’t last that long, thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle you. BUT BABYY were there wrong ! you two have a good balance in your relationship, your energies align so well.

there’s no getting between you two. “my man tie me, I’m on him badd”

you were a little nervous at fist to let him meet your family, you know they can be a little judgmental sometimes but you weren’t too worried. Everything went really good when he met the fam. Your male relatives were a bit over protective but you can’t blame them too much, you’ll always be their baby.

At the family events he eats his weight in food lmfaoo. He’s a big fan of rotis, jerk chicken with white rice, green bananas and salt fish, as well as chutney. It melted your heart to see him enjoying traditional foods.

this man lives to see you dance, from the first grind he got at that party, he’s been hooked since. He’s actually got really good rhythm. So he’s great at any party, whether it’s holding onto your waist slow dancing with you singing the lyrics “ gyal, mi wan’ if hold yuh put me arms right around yuh” in his ear.

this one time you brought him to a family gathering and he danced western with the older ladies of the family, your grandma love him sm, he even calls her ma or mum.

this man can really turn tf up. like REALLY turn TF up. for example when you two are at a Bacchanal all his composure flies out the widow. But he never lets other girls try to dance with him and you do the same when it comes to other men.

lemme tell youuu, there’s a video of you two dirty dancing to vybez kartel at the fette. that shit was wildd like giving him mad fast wine and him positioning you with his hands on your lower back watching your movements

He loves when you make him breakfast, his favorite thing that you make him is fried bakes and cocoa tea. It’s like his comfort food at this point.

he loves hearing all the folklore stories, they’re so fascinating to him. he was low-key kinda scared when you told him you’d send a dupply after him as a joke.

He likes trying Caribbean snacks, he likes half frozen chubby and icelollies.

A DOMINOS FIEND !! your uncles and him were playing together and that shit was heateddd. He smacks the dominos hard asll lmfao. Your uncles lowkey started respecting him more after he won a few games.

He lovesss playing football in the rain with your cousins. your grandma puts oil in the middle of the head to make sure he doesn’t get sick.

LATE NIGHT DRIVES ARE A VIBEE. The two of you have this long ass playlist that you guys bump while driving in the middle of the night with the roof down.

Play from 0:45 before reading next slide

it’s the middle of the night and the two of you are speeding through the mostly empty streets with cold Heineken’s screaming the lyrics to the songs in you guy’s playlists. “ LONGING FOR MY BABY TO LOVE ME MOREE, WHAT AM I LONGING FOR? BABYLON RELEASE THE CURE” !

he sings you all of the old school love songs

he loves and appreciates you so freaking much, you’re the best thing in his life, and he lets everyone know it. you two are such a good couple.

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theblueflower05 · 2 months ago

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These Violent Delights: Chapter One

A/N: Thanks for bearing with when it came to getting this first chapter out! Work has been dragging me by my hair, but i'm going to try to get this story updated every week. At least until I’m able to work through this Spike Fearn brain rot I’ve got going on rn.

Warnings: This story is pretty heavy from the jump. I mean, check the source material. Talks of suicidal thoughts and tendencies. Loneliness. Smut coming later!

Pariring: Bjorn x Reader

Summary: A friendship is formed under the most unlikely of circumstances.

✨Masterlist

✨Playlist

Next Chapter

Every day is exactly the same.

The sentiment runs through your head as you blearily blink up at the water stained ceiling. The comforter is tangled around your legs and your mouth is dry- a side effect from the sleeping pills. The shrill ringing of the alarm is the only indication that the morning has rose on the horizon, outside the singular window in your apartment it is still black as pitch. Your joints crack when you finally force yourself out of bed.

You go through your morning routine in an almost mechanical manner. Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed in the standard issued trousers and blouse you’d been given when you got your assignment- the holes you’d sewn up yourself are barely noticeable. Barley. Clip your hair back. Even the movements as you eat the tar like oatmeal feel too practiced. Fake.

Lately, you’ve found you dont feel very real anymore. There’s probably droid’s walking around, wires for veins, that feel less hollow than you do.

Jackson Star is a planet in the Alfeios system, and in the 11 years you’ve been stationed here you’ve realized, that it is a planet that should've never been colonized. It’s harsh, by nature. Sweltering summers followed by frigid winters, and the ever present, extremely active volcanoes. The atmospheric processors can only do so much.

And they cant do shit about the lack of sun.

They can try to replicate it; expensive lamps and vitamin C tablets acting like a cheap knock off. Like Weyland-Yutani Corps way of saying sorry we dropped you in hell- here's the shittiest consolation prize in the galaxy.

This particular Friday is gloomier then usual, rain accompanying the dark. The walk down the cluttered streets feels even more…hopeless than usual. Like maybe this is all there is. Blurring lights of neon signs and the ruddy faces of children that hold out their hands on corners, begging for their next meal.

Like maybe if you stepped in front of the bus in this cross walk- then it would end the loop. You’d be able to get out of this eternally dark purgatory.

They aren't new thoughts, but you lifting your foot to step of the curb is. You go numb, not thinking or feeling as you step into oncoming traffic.

Theres the blaring honk of a heavy hand on a horn and then you're being yanked backwards, hard.

You gasp as you’re pulled back onto the sidewalk and out of the way of oncoming traffic. You’re equal parts grateful and disappointed. But mostly you’re shocked.

The girl is small statured, her brown eyes wide behind unruly curls. She curses filthy and fast in Spanish.

Her gaze makes you feel uncomfortably scene. Its assessing and…worried. Its been a long time since anyone worried about you. “Are you alright?”

You’re taken aback by her question.

“I’m fine. Didn’t see the cars coming” you don’t understand why you’re explaining yourself to this stranger. It’s probably the hot embarrassment that’s pointing your face red.

She doesn’t look amused by your answer but nods slowly “Okay…”

The signal turns red, the cross walk sign lights up and you’re gone, fast as your feet can take you away from your unlikely savior. Leaving her standing there, confused.

“You’re welcome!” Comes her snark filled holler. You don’t blame her. But with the shame filling you, you also can’t look at her. You just give a haphazard wave behind you. A piss poor thanks, you know.

You hope you never see her again.

After the blip this morning, the routine persists- until it doesnt.

The office is how it always is. Bleak. The yellow lights flickering and the wallpaper peeling. Patty, a heavy set woman with an acidic smile sits at the front desk. The grim reaper at the mouth of the river Styx. It’s pleasantries, your badge is scanned and then you find your way back to your cubicle. As ready as anyone can be to stare at a screen and four walls for the next twelve hours.

Maybe it’s something in the damp air, but once again, the day deviates from the norm.

You only ever work with electronic filing. Sorting piles and piles of e-documents into they Weyland/Yutani system. An office grunt you’ve been called. And yet today they want you up front, something about “Yolanda from zoning and housing” missing a day because her son is dying from black lung. God forbid she want to be by his side. It leaves the office understaffed.

“I’m not trained for that position” you try to reason but it falls on deaf ears. There are numbers to be punched, and your lack of true no how doesn't really matter. You begrudgingly leave your familiar desk, taking only the thermos of hot coffee with me. Small mercies, really.

Front desk is as hellish as one would think it would be. Between having to interact with real human beings, not the computers you’re used to combined with Patty’s snooty remarks; you’re absolutely jonsing to get the fuck out of there and go home by the afternoon.

In the back office the digital copying machine is down for the fifth time this week. All of the filing systems have honestly been off- a result of the shitty outdated tech on this planet.

“Ugh- they really dont know what they're doing back there” Patty sighs, muttering under her beath about how she doesnt get paid enough for this shit “Im going to go help. Again. Keep your head down and follow the guideline on the forms” she gives me stern instructions and a side eye “And dont touch my stories”

She cares more about the trashy soap operas she watches on her tablet then the mother she just evicted from her apartment.

Where’s a fucking droid when you need one? This is most definitely a job that shouldn't be done by anyone with a conscience.

With dread in your stomach you put on a brave face as the security system announces the next client;

Oh.

It’s a girl. With a small stature and wide brown eyes. Ones that reflect the same recognition you feel. It takes a moment for you to swallow the surprise.

“Name” You demand in a practiced voice. The shakiness you feel not transmuting to your tone. Or at least you hope it doesnt.

“Kay Harrison” and just like that, she’s not a stranger anymore “I’m here for an appointment”

You type quickly, plugging in the details on the keyboard. Pulling up her file. Scanning the information quickly. “Yes, I can see that. Here to formally request an eviction extension”

Damn. Thats tough.

“Yes. But only because we truly will be able to pay it next week. I brought not only mine but my brothers work logs and proof of direct deposit-” she pulls out a beat up old tablet and slides it under the glass. “We’ll be able to get the rent paid in full by the fourth”

What kind of cruel fate is this? The most twisted form of serendipity. She saved you this morning and now you have to co-sign on her eviction this afternoon.

You know it doesn't matter, you saw their file. The Harrisons arent newbies to being late for rent and their landlord is chomping at the bit to get them out.

“I’ll scan these into your case but at this point in the process it really doesn't matter” at your words, panic induced tears fill her eyes.

“No- because. We’re late. But we always pay. We’ve never been negligent, not on purpose. Since my dad died we’ve done our best” Kay rambles an explanation that doesn't matter and you feel frozen. Stuck. Conflicted in a way that you we’re supposed to have trained out of you.

“I cant-” you sigh and she looks pathetic. Drained…void.

A feeling you know all too well. That had almost led you right into the grill of a bus this very morning. And yet- she’d stepped in.

You gnaw on your lip and as discreetly as possible, your eyes scan around the empty office. Your co-workers still not back yet. You’re the only one in here. Its madness, but if there was any time to act on madness- it would be now.

You begin typing furiously, entering in codes that a normal front desk clerk wouldn't know, it isn’t in their training. But you’d been trained for filing.

“An extension wont be needed” You speak purposefully, giving Kay a pointed look “The landlord marked the eviction for the fifth. That gives you three more days to get a payment in before the constable is scheduled to come for the lock out”

There’s a moment of heavy silence.

The landlord had actually marked the second but well. It’s an easy enough over turn. Easy, but extremely illegal. You just did something that could not only cost you your job but risk your contract. Land you in jail-

“He marked the wrong date…” Kay chews the words, like she cant believe what she’s saying.

“Yep” I say quickly, finishing up, covering my ass by copying multiple files into the system. It would be hard as shit to uncover it, if anyone cared to bother. Kay’s just another file in the hundreds today. “Here you go, Miss Harrison. You have seventy two hours to get the payment to the respective party. If not the constable will be there to conduct the eviction”

I slide her tablet back towards her.

“I- I don't know what to say” She stutters and you give her a glare. You don't have the time for groveling, for un- needed thanks. As far as you’re concerned, you are now even.

“Don't say anything. Take your things and go”

I don't look at her again, not even when she leaves. Instead I refocus on my computer screen. Trying to breathe through the nerves that wrack my body. That was just about the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.

Your heart beats furiously and it’s the most alive you’ve felt in months.

After that it seems like something has been broken. The pattern no longer functions.

Jackson Star is by no means a small colony. Thousands strong, full of unfamiliar faces. And yet. You keep running into the same one.

“Here, I grabbed you a coffee. Extra sugar, like ya like, even though it’s going to rot your teeth out” Kay waits for you at the same corner that the two of you had met on. Weeks ago. She’d hunted you down after that fateful day and had shown that she wasn't giving up on showing her gratitude so easily.

Having friends in the colony is a dangerous game. Every friend you’ve ever had has either been transferred off planet or died. And yet here you are, eagerily bounding over to Kay. Taking the paper cup full of cheap coffee.

“My teeth are my own business thank you”

And it goes like this; the train station where Kay catches her ride to the mines isn't far from your job so the two of you make your morning commute together, gabbing about nothing. It's nice. It feels familiar, you used to have loads of friends.

Kay’s easy to talk to and she shares so much of herself so freely. Her little stories about her family make you smile. Make you feel warmth, and secretly longing. And yet still, every time the topic of you meeting everyone comes up you shy away.

Being friends with Kay is one thing. Meeting the most important people in her life is another.

She offers again today. Dinner at her house, ya’ know, the one she still has because of you. It’ll be lowkey. Just the friends. Fun.

Although you crave it, you’re scared of it too. That’s why you’re shaking your head, giving another of those flimsy excuses. Kay just pats your arm.

“If you change your mind, you’re still more than welcome to come. I’ll text you the details, okay?” She’s got this way about her. Gentle but not condescending, a hard balance to strike. Too bad she’s on this near barren planet, she’d be a great mother.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you”

When the two of you hit the proverbial fork in the road- you go your way and she goes hers. You to the office and her to the mines. Both prisons in their own rights.

You watch her cross the street and join a tall man at the train station. His skin’s the same shade as hers, his eyes the same almond shape. He’s handsome in a way that you’ve only seen on screens, in those old movies your mom used to watch.

This must be the older brother she talks so much about. Tyler.

He says something you can’t quite decipher to her and then looks over her shoulder, across the street at you, and beams.

Its not a normal smile. It’s pearly whites flashed at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. When he gives you a smooth wave you feel like you might be knocked over.

You just know the grimace and jerky hand motion you give back is as awkward as it feels.

If you obsess about how much of an antisocial weirdo you are all day, that’s your own prerogative.

I mean come on? You can’t even manage to wave back at someone? You truly need to get it together.

You think about that as you eat dinner at your makeshift table that night. Maybe, you’re just out of practice. You’re not awkward, just dusty. You just haven’t spoken to anyone for more then five minutes since your upstairs neighbor had a pipe burst.

It’s what leads you to pulling out your phone, to pulling up Kay’s contact. It’s still new. Still fresh.

Is there anything I should bring?

You don’t have to wait long for a response.

Kay: Nope, just yourself!😊 [location attachment] see you tomorrow.

You stare at her response on the small bright screen until your eyes burn. This is the change you had craved so badly.

So why are you so scared?

This chapter kind of took on a life of its own. I so desperately wanted to have Bjorn in this but there was just- a lot of ground to cover. Next chapter we’re jumping right into introducing him (and smut towards a the end of that chapter to!)

Big shout out to @spikedfearn for letting me ramble like a crazy lady in her inbox. Her Bjorn content literally makes me salivate.

If anyone else is still going through Romulus hyperfixation please feel free to comment or send asks! I’m always here to chat!

#bjorn alien romulus #bjorn alien #bjorn alien x reader #bjorn alien romulus x reader #kay harrison #tyler harrison #alien romulus

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yoonyeon0 · 2 months ago

Note

Omg I js discovered ur blog ❤️

Can I request relationship headcanons with Gaolang? I’m so in love with that man :((

THANK YOU <3

never wrote for Gaolang but I tried my best 😭🙏 thank you for the ask!

Kaolang/Gaolang Realationship Hcs!

let’s go!

It was kinda of hard to get into a relationship with Gaolang, he was very quiet and kept to himself and he most likely didn’t even get the hint that you were hitting on him at first. But once you finally got into a relationship, everything felt easier.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

I feel like Gaolang dates to marry so he will definitely have you move in with him within the first couple of weeks. Of course you won’t have to lift a single finger during this process.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolong spoils you but with caution. He will get you whatever you want but be ready because after that you’re gonna have to wait until Christmas.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolang (unintentionally) introduces you to Saw Paing. Of course, it probably went down with Saw bursting in while you are at home alone waiting for Gaolang to come back from grocery shopping and naturally, you thought it was an intruder. So you can guess how that went. You and Saw definitely went on a bumpy start but ended up being VERY close.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolong INTENTIONALLY introduced you to Karo. You’re not as great friends with the large fisherman but you definitely like and enjoy his company as much as Gaolang does.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolong is the ideal househusband. Even though you both work, Gaolang still and will make time to prepare you a meal. He might clean but he expects you to do the laundry. Either way, it’s more like you’re the husband and he’s the wife. 🤗

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolang trains you. I mean, he never wants you to join in fighting arenas like he does but it does come in handy; being able to fight for self defense. He’ll teach you the basics of boxing and maybe a bit of Muy Thai.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

I feel like Gaolang doesn’t want kids. Mostly because of his dangerous lifestyle but also because he is barely there at home to attend to you, let alone kids. All the stuff with the underground fighting and the boxing championships keeps him busy so he’d have a lot of guilt if he couldn’t see his kids because of that. ☹️

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolong is INCREDIBLY patient. If you ever get in a dispute (which happens literally NEVER) Gaolang will wait until you’re calm before explaining to you his side of whatever the problem is and talking it out.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

If Gaolang could get a penny for the times you’ve asked him to meet Rama he’d have 7 pennies, which isn’t a lot but it annoys him slightly. Eventually he caves and introduces you to him and of course, like you do to all of his friends, you become super close.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

I feel like Kaolang shows you his phone without any reason. Even if you ask, he’ll give it to you without even thinking about it. He knows he’s loyal and doesn’t blame you for thinking that he’s doing something because of the late hours he comes home. Obviously you never find anything.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Kaolong has you as his lock screen and home screen, he wants anyone that sees his phone to see you.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolang is very romantic. He will have a candle light dinner with you if you’d like or if you want, he’ll play with you in the rain. He likes showing his love to you in ways in physical terms rather than verbally.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Gaolang definitely has a playlist he made for you. He doesn’t even listen to music much but he listens to that playlist and does it once a day as a reminder of the luck he has to have you.

✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠

Definitely gets a matching necklace that he never ever forgets to wear. He’d be pissed if he did.

this ask was responded to SO LATE im so sorry 😞

𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣! 𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠.

#kengan ashura #kengan ashura imagines #kengan ashura x reader #kengan omega #reqs open #hcs #kengan x reader #pls reblog #yoon0 #pls request #relationship #here you go babie <33 #gaolang wongsawat #kaolan wongsawat

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silkscream · 11 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 4: EYES WITHOUT A FACE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He’s never known what to do with his feelings, always choosing to bury them where no one else could reach until all of it would rot by itself. It didn’t concern him. It was why he lived life somewhat carelessly. Avoidant.

He’s never known what to do with his feelings about you, either.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content, angst, dub/noncon, underage alcohol usage

ੈ✩ wc: 4.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: chuckles nervously... the plot thickens

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

November, 2008

You are downing your third gin and juice when you start to feel your bones loosen. Anxiously, you had already downed a glass of wine before you arrived at Satoru’s house, and that wasn’t enough to settle your nerves. You’d only been here for about an hour and a half and had mingled with a few classmates you recognized from school, otherwise keeping to yourself amidst the chaos.

That is, until a wired Shoko slings her arm around your shoulder, nearly tripping over herself.

“You came!” she beams. You’d only met her a few times, mostly in passing, each time at Satoru’s house while you were with your mother working and not as a guest.

She’s deer-like, with a dazed, sleepy expression on her face and a joint hanging out of her mouth as opposed to her usual Seven Star. She leans on you close enough for you to smell the smoky scent of her hair, which is currently adorned with small black devil ears.

“Happy birthday, Ieiri-san,” you smile, fishing a small box out of your coat.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything! Those idiots only got me like two cases of beer as a present, anyway,” she laughs. She unwraps the gift to reveal a zippo lighter with a scorpion design on it.

“I thought cigarettes would’ve been too on the nose,” you shrug.

“I love it,” she smiles, hugging you. “Suguru always steals my lighters. He’s definitely not getting a hold of this one.”

“Do you know where he is? Or Gojo-kun?”

She looks at you, then, with an unreadable expression. Something of simultaneous confusion and amusement.

“Probably doing something illegal. I’d guess upstairs or outside, maybe? I just saw them.”

You snort. There wouldn’t be one without the other. You blame your eagerness to drink on why you hadn’t caught them earlier, though when you check your phone again for the fifth time tonight, there are no messages. Satoru is inconsistent in his texting anyway – either silent for a few days, then blowing up your phone in the middle of the night with his random thoughts.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, let me know if you need anything, okay?” She squeezes your hand like a friend would. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you, Ieiri-san,” you nod.

You explore the kitchen, frowning at the clear spills on the countertop and the nearly empty cabinets that used to be full of glasses and mugs. You roll your eyes at your immediate thoughts of cleaning up. Always your mother’s child, never a real guest in a place like this.

You don’t think you can handle another gin and juice, though the drunken devil on your shoulder still goads you to drink more. You were a lightweight, less so than Satoru, but enough to feel blurry at the moment. You settle on a forgotten bottle of plum wine, justifying it with its lesser alcohol content.

The taste is sweet, sickeningly so. Something that Satoru would like. It tastes like he would.

You ignore the slight ache in your head. The music is too loud, blasting in your ears, and the number of people who have arrived at the party since you’d spoken to Shoko has multiplied tenfold.

You stare at your phone again. Nothing.

You’re too warm in your coat now, huddled shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers. There’s probably a safe chance that the boys were upstairs, and even if they weren’t, you could take a breather in Satoru’s room and leave your coat there.

It’s humid once you get to the top of the staircase. Your hair sticks to your back a little as you carry your coat in your arms. The black slip dress you decided on feels too thin, suddenly, but you think it suits your body. Shows just the right amount of skin because of how short it is. Satoru would like it.

The door to Satoru’s bedroom is slightly ajar. You hear more than one voice – a round of them, boisterous. There are several bottles of alcohol on the floor that you can see, a full ashtray, and a small group of strangers that you assume to be Satoru’s friends, though you realize they’re all women. When you tilt your head, you can see him.

He’s sitting on Suguru’s lap, laughing. You notice the way Suguru’s hand rests on Satoru’s stomach, while Satoru absentmindedly taps his fingers along Suguru’s thigh. He’s sprawled out on the boy, taking up space the way he always does, and it looks… intimate. Like they belong to each other.

Satoru whines when Suguru bites at the exposed skin of his collarbone playfully, swatting him away. It’s a similar gesture you do to him when he sneaks up behind you at school. When he gets you alone. When he gets you to follow him home until you end up in his bed.

You know that Satoru is a touchy drunk, but you’ve never seen such adoration in his eyes before. It makes you feel sick.

But you can’t find it in yourself to be angry or shocked. Rather, you feel a bit pathetic. Looking from the outside in, in a place you practically grew up in, feeling more alone than ever.

You want to watch them for longer. Like a voyeur.

There’s an itch in your body that wants to see if the boys will kiss. Satoru has never been this touchy with you in the presence of others. With Suguru, it looks like muscle memory.

Your knuckles pale as you grip the bottle of plum wine in your hand. You chug the rest, not caring about the taste making your insides swirl. After discarding your coat in one of the hallway closets, you take a deep breath and retreat downstairs.

Shoko bumps into you in the middle of the dancefloor. The way her face lights up almost dissipates the pit in your stomach. Almost.

“Hey, baby! Come dance.”

“I need a smoke, actually, but I will after.”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” she says, handing you one of her Seven Stars cigarettes and her zippo.

“I can get matches from the kitchen, don’t worry.”

Once you’re outside, the music is a dull ache in the back of your head. The November air is colder than you expect considering the recent days of decent weather, but the alcohol keeps you numb. You inhale smoke, eyes fluttering at the memory of intimacy.

“If you guys drank all my birthday sake, I’m seriously going to castrate you both.”

Shoko pulls the bottle out of Satoru’s hands while he’s in the middle of sipping. He nearly chokes from the force of her, liquid dripping onto his chin. Suguru wipes it off and laughs.

“This isn’t your birthday sake, dumbass!”

“Gross,” Shoko says, wrinkling her nose at the off-brand label. It’s cheap and sweet, just the way Satoru likes it.

Fiending for more alcohol, Satoru frowns when he examines the other liquor bottles scattered around the circle of them, only to find that there’s only hard liquor. He drinks from a bottle of Sprite instead to satiate his craving, in addition to stealing a maraschino cherry out of Yuki’s cocktail.

“You finished every bottle of sake, Satoru,” Suguru frowns.

“Great! Let’s play spin the bottle.”

“No,” Utahime interjects. She throws an empty beer can at Satoru’s head.

“Yeah, I’m downvoting that, too,” Shoko adds. She takes the joint that Suguru finishes rolling and lights it. “It’s my birthday and I’m not letting this idiot try to fuck everyone like he does at every party.”

“That’s because his type is everyone. He’s a whore,” Yuki chuckles.

“I don’t try to fuck everyone–”

“Go find your girlfriend if you want to get your dick wet so bad,” she interrupts, mumbling with the joint in her mouth. “We should find her and get her to play poker with us. She looked a little sad when I saw her.”

“Huh?” Satoru blinks.

“Oh, and why does she call you by your last name? Is it because she technically works for you?”

“No fucking way Gojo found a poor soul to be his girlfriend,” Utahime mutters. She settles her head on Shoko’s lap in the bed, stealing the joint out of her mouth. “Do you pay her?”

“No, she’s like a servant or something, right?” Yuki says.

“Gojo! That’s sick. The poor girl.”

“Stop, you’re making her out to seem like she’s my fucking concubine,” Satoru asserts, a bit too fiercely than he means to. His lips twitch at the mention of you.

Suguru raises his brows at Satoru, knowing the boy is too drunk and too befuddled to know what to say. The girls stare.

“She’s not my girlfriend, either.”

“You should fuck her, then,” Shoko slurs. “She’s so cute.”

“She’s our friend,” Suguru drawls, tipping back vodka like it’s water. “You haven’t seen her yet, Satoru?”

Satoru shakes his head. His heart pounds quicker now that you’re the topic of conversation. That feeling comes back – the one that makes him panic, as if he’s discovering that something he owns is lost. It twists in his stomach, knowing how selfish it is. He wants to keep you in a way that’s separate from the rest of his life because you were his.

He gets up and mumbles something about going to the bathroom. In the hallway, he opens his phone and stares at your contact. Your photo hasn’t changed in years – a goofy close-up that he took when he was thirteen.

When he calls you, his heartbeat quickens the longer the phone rings, only to realize that he hears the sound of your ringtone from behind the closet. He finds your phone and your coat, but there’s no trace of you.

It sobers him up considerably. The lights in the house flicker.

The temperature drops as the night drags on, which is why you have the firepit to yourself. The fire is still glowing, warming your bare legs.

Fuck. You want another cigarette.

You jump at the sound of another’s presence. When you turn, you see your classmate, Haru, nursing a half-empty bottle of wine in his right hand.

“Getting up to trouble, I see,” he grins.

You laugh. It’s more of a scoff, but you smile at him.

“Yeah, some crazy delinquent activity. Some might even call it mischief.”

The joke makes him laugh, which makes you laugh, genuinely. Haru had the demeanor of a puppy, always excitable and easy to please. It used to be a little annoying when you were first years but he’d mellowed out since then, it seems.

Under the glow of the fire, he looks handsome in a boyish way. His hair has gotten longer over the year, like Suguru’s, but he lets it fall to his shoulders. You scoot over on the patio couch, welcoming him to sit.

“You look very pretty, by the way. I like your dress.”

“O—Oh,” you stammer, surprised. “Thank you.”

He offers you the bottle of wine in his hand and you accept, taking a swig of pinot grigio. Future you is going to kill you for mixing so many different alcohols in your stomach. Current you is basking in the warmth of your surroundings.

“Sorry if this is awkward, but uh—” He fiddles with his fingers, but the eye contact he makes with you feels oddly intense. “Are you, like, seeing Gojo?”

His name makes your face burn. You almost choke on the wine.

“Uh, no. Just—um, what made you think that?”

“He just seems possessive over you,” Haru shrugs.

“Yeah, right. He never talks to me in school.”

“But he does, sometimes, and I notice it. He looks at you in a certain way. S’why I was kind of scared to approach you, actually.”

You furrow your brows at the idea of Satoru scaring other boys away. Other boys didn’t talk to you, never have. You didn’t think you were exceptionally attractive in a way that made other people pine over you. You were always focused on academics anyway. But has Satoru always driven other boys away?

“He’s not my bodyguard or whatever,” you try to joke. “And I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that.”

Haru widens his eyes. You curse yourself in your head. It’s the wine talking. It has to be.

“I think I might be.”

When did he get so close to you? You notice you’re both thigh to thigh. Your stomach drops when Haru caresses your jaw. His touch doesn’t feel right. It’s not what you’re used to, not what you want.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, face inches from yours. You freeze when you realize what’s happening, closing your eyes to accept it. A drunken kiss won’t hurt anyone. Maybe it’s what you need.

He’s soft at first until his tongue pries your mouth open. From there, there’s spit and teeth, his hand squeezing your throat the tiniest bit in a way that makes you whimper. The sound of it encourages him. He has his other hand on your thigh, underneath the hem of your dress.

You’re brainless. A used toy. Your head is swimming rapidly, too messy to register all of it. The panic subsides into blankness as your body surrenders. Everything feels so heavy.

“H-Haru–”

“I’ve always liked you,” he mumbles in between kisses. How is his grip on you so tight?

“Haru, I don’t–”

You can’t get a word in with his tongue down your throat.

You’re barely kissing him back now, but he takes from you anyway. Licks your teeth and inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh. When he finally releases your mouth, he has his tongue on your neck instead, and it feels sordid. You are numb and he is molding you in his hands.

Satoru’s voice is in your head calling you weak.

You recoil when you feel calloused fingers grazing your core. You make a weak attempt to push him away, small fists to his broad chest. When your gaze drifts, you see a pair of burning blue eyes.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing—”

Haru’s hair is yanked, and his body is pulled backward and thrown onto the ground. It’s all too fast—a whiplash of crushed bone and bloody knuckles. White hair and burning blue eyes.

“What the fuck, man–”

You watch in horror as Satoru kicks the boy on his side. You don’t even notice that Suguru is pulling you away with a hand on your waist.

You’ve never seen Satoru so angry. Never seen him be violent outside of playfighting Suguru in the grass. He’s a whole other being in front of you now, and it scares you, and it’s somehow… beautiful.

“Touch her again and I fucking kill you,” he seethes, spitting on Haru’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

He’s breathing heavily and glances at you. There’s a look of betrayal and disbelief that you see briefly before Suguru sweeps you away. When you’re back inside, you let go of his hand to run to the bathroom and vomit.

Your eyes fucking ache.

It’s the dried tears and strained pupils underneath the disgusting overhead light of the downstairs bathroom. Your head pounds. You don’t remember when you came to, but you find comfort from the arm around you. Shoko sits next to you and runs a reassuring hand through your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I ruined your birthday.”

“Are you kidding?” Shoko chuckles. “That was entertaining as hell. Even if I only saw half of it. Leave it to Satoru to steal all the attention on my birthday.”

You frown, staring at her. How can she be so nonchalant that someone left her party with a broken nose?

The ghost of Haru’s touch makes your skin crawl, making you reflexively shut your thighs together. The bathroom floor is cold underneath your skin.

“I’ve never seen him so mad before,” you lament quietly.

“Neither have I,” she exhales. “It takes a lot to work him up. He had no room to be jealous, though. He said you weren’t his girlfriend.”

Her words prick you like the blade of a dagger. Slowly. Drawing blood.

“I– I wasn’t trying to hook up with that guy,” you say. “I was so drunk. I didn’t want it.”

Shoko looks at you with pity. “Oh, fuck.”

When she wraps your arms around you, you’re too numb to cry. The door opens and the boys enter. Your eyes stay on the floor. Your gut twists inside out.

“How is she?” you hear Suguru ask.

That again. Talking about you instead of to you.

Shoko mouths something, you think. A soundless gesture as she rubs your back soothingly like a sister would.

“You want a ride home, princess?” Suguru asks.

“She can sleep here. There’s a room for her.”

You look up at the sound of Satoru’s voice. His face is cold, unreadable. You don’t expect him to lift you and carry you to his room, but he does. There’s a pang in his heart when you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Take this.” He tips your head back for you and parts your lips with his hands so he can get the painkillers on your tongue. Water down your throat.

“Good girl.”

“I can take care of myself,” you grumble, curling into yourself on the edge of his bed.

“Clearly you can’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have fucking blacked out.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you say with dejection. “Just—please don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry. Not with you.”

But he is, just a little. The mere idea of someone else touching you makes him see red, and having it be real and at his fucking house made him livid beyond repair. How dare that piece of trash touch you. Like you aren’t Satoru’s and his alone.

He’s also upset at himself because he knew it wouldn’t have happened if he’d found you sooner.

He lays on his side behind you and pulls you close.

“I don’t understand you,” you say, weakly. Your nose feels fuzzy again the way it does before you cry.

“I don’t, either,” Satoru sighs.

You turn to face him, then, and the look on your face devastates him.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk. I didn’t know what was happening. I mean, I did, but I didn’t—I didn’t want all of that,” you sniffle. “Didn’t want him to touch me.”

You say it like you’re confessing. Pleading. Guilt swallows him whole.

What you want to ask: Why am I only something to you when someone else touches me?

“I’m so sorry,” Satoru whispers. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop it and that you had to see me like that. I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again. Okay?”

Touch her again and I kill you.

You nod weakly, smiling. He holds you and lets you cry until you fall asleep. It feels like he’s committing a crime to be able to hold you like this.

Satoru closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. He’s never known what to do with his feelings, always choosing to bury them where no one else could reach until all of it would rot by itself. It didn’t concern him. It was why he lived life somewhat carelessly. Avoidant.

He’s never known what to do with his feelings about you, either.

He didn’t think they would come back. Ideally, you both would’ve finished school and he would go to Jujutsu Tech and forget about you. Maybe you see you on the off-occasion he’s home, but he doesn’t plan on being home that often. But he’s young and stupid and hungry, and when you were there for him on a platter, he wanted to take you. Consume you.

He feels powerful when he knows that you want to consume him, too. He can’t live with himself knowing that that power will only hurt you in the end.

He almost wishes you were angry at him. You could scream at him if you wanted and it would be justified, but you’re here in his arms again instead. Apologizing.

Something ugly twists inside of him. He remembers what you said in bed the other day.

You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.

It made him sick with desire then, but it makes him sick with remorse now.

November, 2008 (Three days later)

“Is she okay? She hasn’t responded to my text,” Suguru asks.

“You text her?”

Satoru tries not to look annoyed. Instead, he looks away and kicks away a discarded Ramune bottle across the pavement. On Mondays, he liked to skip his last class and force Suguru to accompany him for a late lunch that usually consisted of konbini sweets.

“Not really. She has my number, though,” Suguru says, taking a puff of a cigarette. Shoko’s influence. “Why, you jealous?”

“Fuck off.”

“You are.” Suguru gives him a sly grin. “That’s why you knocked the lights out of that guy.”

“He was assaulting her.”

Satoru sighs, sprawling his legs on the bench (which is too short to fit the length of his body) and puts his head in Suguru’s lap. He flinches when Suguru pokes his nose.

“She’s okay, though?”

“I don’t know, to be honest.”

Satoru thinks of your dejected gaze and the limpness of your body when he touched you the next morning. He was softer than usual given the situation, and you bound yourself to him like you always do. Clung to him, almost. He blushes at the memory of your face after he made you cum from his mouth.

You seemed fine at breakfast Saturday morning when Satoru treated you to pancakes. But even with your sarcastic remarks and usual banter, the light in your eyes seemed dimmer.

It had barely been 36 hours since then, but he missed you.

“I think I would’ve done the same thing as you,” Suguru says.

Satoru sighs crankily, throwing an arm over his face to block the sunlight.

“I probably would’ve killed him if you guys weren’t there,” he grumbles. “Sometimes I want to kidnap her, I swear. Never leave her out of my sight. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking drunk.”

Suguru looks down at him, raising his brows. One of his usual looks – astute and slightly shaming.

Satoru is grateful for the darkness of his lenses, though he knows that regardless, Suguru can easily tell what expression he’s giving him. He’s looking away, anyway, examining a stray cat on top of the roof of the konbini.

Satoru takes a moment to trace his eyes along the sharp lines of Suguru’s jawline. Clenched at the thought of you being hurt, a similar sentiment that Satoru’s had for the past few days. His fists burn with the ghost of that bastard’s blood. He wishes he could do it all again—punch his fucking teeth out harder than his nose.

While he thinks of you and the fragility of your far-away stare, he also thinks of your skin. At the moment, the thought is subtly replaced with Suguru’s hands absentmindedly scratching his head. It’s funny — you and Suguru had the same habit when it came to giving Satoru affection.

Prodigies, the two of them. Their abilities would rank them as Grade 1 by their first year of Jujutsu Tech, special grade by the time they complete their first few missions. Satoru really did see Suguru as his other half. It was why your inclusion made him uneasy despite how much he cared for you.

It wasn’t anything personal. He was simply wrapped around Suguru’s finger first. They had drunkenly kissed two years prior, fresh-faced and seventeen, and would continue to on random occasions that weren’t dictated by anything other than hormones and energy shifts in the air.

Maybe Satoru would consider Suguru as his first love, if he knew anything about it. He didn’t know what you were, yet. He couldn’t describe his feelings for you. It was something beyond words, which scared him.

“Do you think you’re going to take her to the New Year’s Party?” Suguru’s voice shakes Satoru out of his thoughts.

“What? I think I’m taking Mei Mei or something. Mother’s orders.”

“Mother’s orders?”

“Dude, I don’t know. She was like, assigned to me months ago. I still don’t get why it’s such a big deal for the clan, but Mei Mei and her family are close to the family or whatever.”

“I just thought you would bring Y/N, s’all.”

“Why?” Satoru asks.

Suguru smiles, giving him a knowing look before he rolls his eyes.

“You like her.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to lie to me, dude. I figured you were fucking her since she started hanging out with us.”

“She’s… my friend,” Satoru defends. His brain feels fucking scrambled. “My oldest friend.”

“Okay,” Suguru chuckles. “I was kind of thinking of asking her, then.”

“To– to what? The party?”

“Yeah.”

Satoru sits up from Suguru’s lap.

“It’s not really her scene.”

“She hangs out with you, I’m sure she can handle a little party thrown by your family.”

“It’s not little. It’s—fucking annoying and extravagant. I literally only go because I have to and there’s always an open bar,” Satoru prattles. “I thought you’d take Shoko.”

“Jesus, then I’d have to take care of her drunk ass. She’d probably want to get wasted with Utahime anyway. You know how much she wants to fuck her.”

Satoru is screaming in his head. If his worlds collide more than they already have, he might just break open completely. He straightens his posture in an attempt to not appear particularly haughty, though he knows Suguru can probably see right through him.

He makes a non-committal noise, stone-faced when he looks at his friend. He hides his face as he rolls his eyes.

His tone is bored, lips quirking in a bitter smile.

“Right, okay,” Satoru yawns. “Do whatever you want.”

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year ago

Text

Ghostface! Ellie Williams and Ghostface! Abby Anderson with a chubby fem s/o

+ featuring some slight yandere and explicit themes (these are dating headcanons to specify)

A/n: Hi again lovelies! I didn't expect the last one to blow up so quickly so I'm back to writing, honestly every note, like and reblog encourages me to do more and do better so thank you for that. I honestly didn't expect to write something a bit gory after writing mostly fluff so this'll be interesting. Reminder English is not my first language and I'm trying my best, I hope you enjoy:)

I'll possibly add more in the future if I have ideas :3

Meet my cousin y'all: @rabblebite

Disclaimers/Warnings: Slight yandere like behavior???, violence, gore, knife kink, gun kink, stalking, suggestive themes and language. Characters may be a bit OOC (but you already know this, it's ghostface)(the chubby part is just a little add on so there's actually not that many headcanons regarding that)

If you wish to be tagged, please comment that you want to be or follow so that you'll be updated also: Rules for requests

Ellie Williams dating inspired playlist made by me

Ellie Williams

The first time you met Ellie was a bit of a blur. Let me elaborate...

You were new at the school, first day and all that cliche shit. Bell rings, you run to class. You found yourself in a seat next to a girl, auburn hair and freckles. A few times throughout the class you made eye contact and smiled a few times.

What you didn't know was that Ellie was already freaking out, can you really blame her? A pretty girl sits next to her and smiles at her, not only that but you even offered her a mechanical pencil because hers was flimsy and the led kept breaking on her. She thought you completely forgot about the pencil but did you really?

This was the start of her obsession over you.

After that day she stalked you non-stop, she knew everything. She even kept a small journal, writing down what you did and how she felt about it after.

Her sketchbooks were filled with you, aside from a few other things it was mostly you. There's at least 2-3 doodles on each page of either you or your name on her sketchbook.

May or may not have carved your initials on her guitar before you even started dating.

That mechanical pencil you gave her, she kept it, barely even used it after that so she can keep something of yours.

When she managed to get enough courage to talk to you again, she tried giving you the pencil back in guilt but you refused. You told her to keep it and did that woman worship that pencil.

You got invited to her friend group, which are Dina and Jesse and out of all of them, she hang out with you the most.

After a while, Ellie felt confident enough to ask you out and a sigh of relief for her when you said yes.

She has polaroid of you lying around everywhere in her room, you even stuck some on the edge of your mirror and locker so she'd see it.

Your pet names including: princess, bunny, sweet thing and pretty girl.

The night you found out Ellie was Ghostface was the time you were walking at the street just minding your business when you were pulled in an alleyway but some creepy 50 something year old hobo.

You kicked him off of you and tried to run and the man tried to chase after you. Only to have his mouth covered by a white cloth and stabbed in the back. Hastily running, you got pulled back by the black cloaked stranger and before you could scream, she took off her mask.

"Ellie?" You whisper in fear, you saw her drop her knife and hug you.

You were still in shock, after all you just found out your girlfriend killed someone, rather a lot of people.

"[Name]? Are you alright? He didn't touch you anywhere did he?" She asked, seemingly forgetting she was still wearing her ghostface get up. Lucky for you that you kicked him off before anything else happened.

You two talked it out and you understand her motive behind all of the killings however that doesn't take away from the fact that you're terrified of what consequences await her if she was ever to get caught.

Ellie is aware of what might happen when she gets caught so she does everything she can to make sure you are not in any way, shape or form involved if she was caught.

Even if it means for her to forever rot in prison, she'd rather keep you away than endanger you for being a witness or even a suspect.

She heard about you being flirted with and inappropriately touched by some Chad. After a few days he was spotted, gutted open at the school tree hanging by his clothes.

She'd definitely think it's adorable to see you with the ghostface get up, it's specifically tailored to her size so seeing it on you with the trim dragging on the ground makes her thing of like the ghost costumes with just a white blanket and she just thinks you're such an angel, too pure even.

I just can't stop imagining her with a knife kink, though she doesn't actually cut you with it. She loves the way you whimper and squirm when she presses the cold blade on your plush skin.

She gets off on blood, that being said once she's with you and you already know about the killings, she can't just let it slide.

Someone else's blood on your skin makes her feel all sorts of things. (You may or may have engaged in sexual things after her gutting people up)

Clean up after that is a bit of work so there's that.

Seeing you in lingerie and blood would make her lose all self control.

If you were to accidentally kill someone, she would not only help you clean up but she'll also take responsibility for the kill. She made it look like ghostface did it.

If you were to decide to join in the killings, she'd let you but with moderation.

For example she'll let you make the decision on who to kill or strategize the killings. Before you could even suggest someone who wronged you, they're already 6ft under believe me. Ellie easily picks up on how you feel about someone and it's not like you don't tell her.

She'd also let you watch the killings, either hidden or disguised but that's just how far she'll go. She doesn't want you to actually be the one to do the killing cause she's too paranoid you'll do something that'll cause you to get caught.

Abby Anderson

You met at the basketball court while you were sitting at the bleachers because let's be real here, Abby is a total jock and athlete, she seems like she'd be a gym rat too. (Without the red flags of one though)

You were sitting with your friends Dina and Jesse while you guys just catched up since the past week has been hectic, you even went so far as to gossip and think of conspiracies on who has been responsible for the reported killings by the killer they named ghostface. You looked at your phone, looking at the messages when you flinched, almost getting hit by a ball.

You open your eyes shortly to see Abby Anderson, the school's lesbian jock, who by the way is holding the ball that almost hit you. Anderson muttered an apology on behalf of her teammate who mistakenly threw the ball at your direction.

You told her it was fine and that it was and honest mistake when you know damn well you would've been far more upset if that ball actually hit you.

Abby just couldn't stop staring at you, I mean could you blame her? She felt like a knight and shinning armour when she just saved a pretty girl from a potential head injury.

She snapped back to reality when she heard her teammate say "Hey Anderson! Stop flirting with pretty girls and pass that ball back will you" Abby was a bit flustered by that comment because all and all she agreed to it.

On Abby's desk is carved your name and initials, she has gotten detention over it though I don't think the school is aware of how many desks have your name carved on them.

It took a while but Abby finally did ask you out, she approached you while you were taking a few things out of your locker. "So uhh, do you want to go out with me? On a date I mean..." She asked with her hand rubbing her neck, Abby was bracing herself for rejection.

You had to do a bit of a double take because the Abby Anderson is asking you out? You said yes obviously.

May or may not have stalked you before asking you out to find out everything you like to set up the perfect date.

Abby definitely has a polaroid of you both is her locker and gym locker. (There's one in her wallet too 🥺)

Your nicknames are: my cheerleader (because she knows damn well you've been to all her games and was there to cheer her on), baby, babe and pretty girl

You only found out that she's ghostface because she couldn't take it anymore and told you after seeing that you're scared of ghostface potentially threatening your life.

Poor baby was so worried you'd think insane if her after, let's just say she ended up loving you more for accepting the fact and understanding the reason behind the killings. (let's be real here any normal person would but not you)

When you first asked to play a part in the killings, Abby disagreed, no way in hell was she letting her girl be in danger both of the police and whatever else is out there.

She hates the idea of you going to jail more than she hates the idea of getting caught and facing the consequences.

But if you really want to then like Ellie she'd let you but with limitations. You're only ever allowed to watch when you are disguised and she'll let you stab a few every now and then.

Abby with a gun kink, Abby with a gun kink, Abby with a gun kink. Watch her get turn on when you flinch from the clicks whenever she pulls the trigger.

Despite Abby hating horror movies, she sure made a hell of a good killer.

#ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #fluff #x reader #x you #ellie williams headcanons #abby anderson headcanons #tlou abby #tlou ellie #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams x chubby reader #abby anderson x plus size reader #lesbian #wlw #ellie williams x plus size reader #ghostface #ghostface au #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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spookyserenades · 2 years ago

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Three

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi lovelies, it's Dana! Thank you all so much for all of the lovely feedback on the first two chapters of Trouvaille! I always enjoy answering questions, hearing reader theories, and even gushing over the Trouvaille hybrids together. In Chapter Three, we'll finally meet the mysterious wolf hybrid Namjoon, and some of the paranormal aspects of the plot will be introduced as well. There's a bit of angst in this update, a fair amount of awkward interactions between characters, but a healthy amount of soft and domestic moments as well. As always, if you would like to be added to the taglist or chat with me at all, my inbox is open and I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading and please enjoy the latest update!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Pulling into town, the rain had slowed into a light mist, shrouding the homes on Y/N’s street in a blue-gray fog. The orange headlights from her car cut through the haze, guiding her way to the driveway at the side of the house, lamplight from within the first floor illuminating the gloom of the morning storm outside. The Beach Boys CD had looped by now, the sunny melodies doing little to brighten Y/N’s stress-induced jaw clenching.

With her mother’s last minute visit sprung upon her, Y/N had little to no time to prepare herself for the situation, let alone the six hybrids she had barely just met. She spent much of the ride back grinding her teeth and muttering under her breath, Taehyung periodically rolling the window up and down while she pressed pedal to the metal to beat her mother to the house. The squeaking noise of the window glass set her on edge, trying not to look at Taehyung cross-eyed, praying to the sky that her parents wouldn’t embarrass her within an inch of her life.

The hybrids had lapsed into pensive silence after her mentioning of the surprise visit, and she didn’t dare glance through the rearview to get a look at Jeongguk’s likely disgusted expression. Y/N hadn’t even noticed the hushed whispering in the backseat, too bewildered to hear much else but the curse-loop bouncing around in her own skull.

Leave it to her mother to completely disregard Y/N’s insistence she would come around later in the week to introduce the hybrids to her, in a controlled environment with more time to warn the hybrids of her mother’s quirks. She mostly blamed herself, with the fact that her kitchen was bare of food and calling her parents right away to tell them about the adoptions– she kicked herself for not holding out a bit longer, perhaps waiting for when she got Namjoon home– but it was all too late now. There was no convincing her mother to stay away, especially not without worrying her, or even worse, offending her.

Turning the car off, Y/N twitchily attempted to brighten up, not wanting to taint the first impression Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jeongguk were getting of their newfound home. Clearing her throat, she shakily turned to the backseat, a sheepish smile stretching across her face.

“We’re here,” she ignored Hoseok’s amused expression as he read the discomfort in her air, Yoongi squinting out the window past him to look at the house through the mist. Jeongguk had his bag of items from the drugstore tucked under his armpit, an unlit cigarette already poised between his lips. “Let’s head in and get out of this fog.”

Grabbing the box of donuts from the console and fishing around in her pocket for the house keys, Y/N yanked her car door open, not even bothering to pull up her hood to protect her clammy strands of hair. Jeongguk was right behind her, the flicking of his lighter clicking in her ear, a puff of smoke tantalizingly curling around her. She’d definitely have to have one of those later, when she could grab a moment to be by herself.

Dodging puddles in the gaping potholes of her crumbling driveway, she popped the trunk, hauling out the trash bag of the hybrid’s belongings. While it was half-full, it was exceptionally heavy– a burden that was immediately lifted by Taehyung’s nimble fingers hefting it over his shoulder along with his bags from the drugstore. Before she could protest, he was following Hoseok to the door to the lit-up kitchen, leaving her to fall into stride with Yoongi.

“Alright, I get it now. This place does look totally haunted,” Yoongi murmured to her out of the corner of his mouth, fanning away smoke from Jeongguk in front of them. “Marlboros. If you’re gonna smoke, at least have a menthol,” he whispered, low enough for Jeongguk to miss but perfectly audible to Y/N beside the leopard hybrid. Laughing weakly, Y/N had a warm feeling in her stomach at Yoongi’s attempts to make her smile.

The hybrids made a half-circle around her as she unlocked the door, Jeongguk’s tattooed hand stamping out his cigarette but in the ashtray Y/N had used nights before. She peered into the glass slider while she slid it open, but Seokjin and Jimin were not lingering in the kitchen.

Inside, it was warm and the air had a faint buttery smell of toast, yet did little to balm Y/N’s anxiety surrounding her parents impending arrival. She could hear the sound of the TV going in the parlor as she and the hybrids filed in behind her, placing the donuts on the island with a thump. It appeared that someone had cleaned up the kitchen meticulously after their breakfast, even the stainless steel of the fridge had been wiped to a polish.

“Whoa, this kitchen is awesome,” Yoongi breathed, immediately circling the island to run his hand along the stovetop with a grin on his face.

“Yoongi, were you a line cook at that bar you worked at too?” Hoseok remarked teasingly as Yoongi admired the pots hanging from the rack over the island.

“Yeah, actually. I worked just about every position at one point or another, Foxy,” Yoongi answered, folding his arms over his chest.

Taehyung had set the garbage bag on the breakfast nook, slowly placing items from it on the table one by one. Jeongguk was impatiently standing behind him, tapping a foot on the tiled floor, snatching a little leather notebook from Taehyung’s hand as soon as he pulled it from the bag. Taehyung simply returned to retrieving items from the bag, tucking a weathered black jean jacket under his armpit as he went.

“I can show them around, if you need some time to get ready for your parents,” Hoseok said from behind Y/N at the coffee pot, where she was filling a mug up to the brim. Hoseok had somehow become her saving grace the past two days when it came to helping out, and she almost wanted to hug him in relief as the words left his mouth.

“Thanks, Hoseok. I owe you,” Y/N squeezed his wrist, watching dimples appear on his cheeks.

“Oh! Did everyone come back today?” Jimin’s voice came from the entry of the kitchen, eyes wide as he scanned the room full of people. Brushing past Hoseok to greet the coyote hybrid, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder where Seokjin was, his absence peculiarly profound to her.

“Good morning, Jimin!” Y/N said brightly, his smile as he saw her step from behind Hoseok equally as radiant as her voice. “Everyone, apart from Namjoon.”

Jimin hummed, eyeing Hoseok who had stalked off to the mysterious garbage bag on the breakfast bar. Y/N motioned for Jimin to come closer, which he did gracefully in his sock-clad feet, bending low to hear her.

“My parents are coming today. My mother gave me a call and totally surprised me with it, sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” Y/N whispered in his ear while trying to hear what Yoongi was saying to Jeongguk several feet away. Jimin made a noise of surprise, Y/N pushing the opened box of donuts towards him, gesturing for him to take one.

“Don’t apologize, Miss Y/N. I’m sure they’re lovely people,” Jimin assured her, his penchant for titles slipping into his speech. Heat rising up her neck, she was thankful his sight was trained on the donuts as she took a hearty swig of the coffee in her mug, which probably did nothing but add to her jitteriness.

“How’s Seokjin?” Y/N changed the subject, hoping that the jaguar hybrid wasn’t nursing a wine hangover. Jimin placed a powdered sugar donut on a paper towel, casting a look over his shoulder towards the foyer.

“He’s upstairs. He moved up to that pink bedroom this morning, reading a book or something,” Jimin responded, licking a bit of sugar off of his thumb. Y/N began to sweat, forgetting that she had told Seokjin to pick out a bedroom in the first place, and began to worry about cleaning up his previous room if one of the other hybrids decided to claim it that afternoon. While she had left her high stress level job days ago, Y/N had a whole new set of situations that seemed to crop up quickly.

“Jimin,” Yoongi interrupted, nodding at the coyote hybrid as he approached the island. Yoongi had a bomber jacket slung over his shoulder, sliding a canvas knapsack across the granite countertop. “This yours?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open, grasping the bag with relief, checking the contents of the bag frantically. Yoongi swiped a chocolate donut from the open box, munching on it thoughtfully as Jimin pulled a dented brown Stetson hat from the bag with a frown. Standing on her tiptoes to peek at the others, she noticed Hoseok with a stack of athletic wear he was most likely wearing prior to his arrival at the shelter, and Taehyung crumpling up the empty garbage bag.

“This was Jin’s, I’ll take it to him when we find him,” Hoseok joined her, Jimin, and Yoongi at the island, holding up a ratty drawstring bag in one of his hands. Taehyung had snuck his way next to Y/N silently, opening random cabinets with the garbage bag in his fist. Finding the drawer that hid the trash, he tossed the bag in with a grimace, blowing his bangs out of his face with a gust of air.

“Why don’t you guys get settled before my parents get here? Hoseok has offered to show you around, to pick out your bedrooms,” Y/N urged, still mournfully lamenting the fact that she hadn’t seen Seokjin yet that morning.

“Before you ask, Yoongi, we aren’t sharing a room, sorry,” Hoseok nudged Yoongi with his shoulder, the leopard hybrid’s mouth set in a grim line. Hoseok was already on his way out to the hall, Yoongi trudging after him with Jeongguk not far behind, leafing through his notebook with a detached expression.

“I’d sooner share a room with Satan,” Yoongi shot back under his breath, tossing the last piece of his donut in his mouth before disappearing from the room with the fox and elk hybrids.

Taehyung begrudgingly followed the other three, looking like he wanted to say something to Y/N as he watched her tuck away the leftover donuts for later. Jimin stayed behind, as Y/N predicted he would, finding his own mug in the cabinet to help himself to some more coffee.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jimin asked softly as Y/N brushed crumbs from the counter into the sink, raking a hand through her hair in distress.

“Oh, that’s okay, Jimin, thank you. I guess I should warn you… my mother is a little out there,” Y/N grit her teeth, avoiding Jimin’s eyes as she sipped her coffee. “She might hug you, or ask you if you want a tarot reading…”

“A… tarot reading?” Jimin’s voice was laced with confusion, slinging his knapsack around his trim shoulder. Nodding, Y/N made her way to the bags of toiletries Taehyung had left on the breakfast nook that were likely for Jimin, Seokjin, and Namjoon, which he had separated so each bag had one of each item. Smiling at Taehyung’s quiet consideration, she selected a bag for Jimin and offered it to him.

“Yeah, fortune telling. She’s a pagan witch, not so far off from that movie we watched last night,” Y/N joked, realizing the joke went right over his head as he stared at her with alarm. “These are for you, Taehyung helped me pick up some other things you might need,” she thrust the bag into his open palm, the astonishment slipping from his face as it settled back into a more neutral expression.

“Thank you. Hugging is fine. I’m alright with staying unaware of what the future holds, for now,” Jimin murmured, following Y/N to the foyer.

“I hear you. Not that she took that into account growing up, however,” Y/N sighed, pausing by the room Seokjin was in previously. He had made the bed. “I’m just going to freshen up a bit before they get here, so I’ll see you in a few?”

“Alright, Miss Y/N. Give a holler if you need anything,” Jimin grinned, Y/N returning the gesture before hurrying away so he wouldn’t see her blushing. She didn’t have the heart to tell Jimin to drop the titles again, and for some reason she found she actually liked it when he used them.

Like clockwork, as soon as Y/N began to detangle her rain-mussed hair in her bathroom, her phone buzzed with her mother’s “on the way” message. Cursing, Y/N hastily changed into some drier clothes, heart racing as she prayed that a disaster wouldn’t unfold. She hadn’t exactly been forthcoming on the phone with what kind of hybrids she had adopted– all men, almost all large predators. There was a chance her father would blow a gasket seeing that many men living with Y/N, or her mother totally embarrassing her by trying to set her up with one of them; like they were at a wedding and the hybrids were groomsmen.

Y/N had been single for most of her adult life; a few college hookups were as close as she got to a relationship. Always focused on studies, keeping up with her friends, and spending quality time with her family, she never really found the time to enter the dating scene. Especially as she landed her job after graduation, Y/N was busier than ever working at the animal hospital, with little thought spent on men and relationships. She knew that her mother and father talked behind her back about her lackluster dating life, and that her mother in particular wanted to see her in a loving relationship, but her mother trying to set up blind dates with one of her friend’s sons was more annoying than helpful. There was a real chance her mother would corner one of the hybrids and ask them what she thought of Y/N, or maybe even offer a compatibility reading, the thought mortifying and making Y/N twist her hair up into a bun a little too tightly.

While Y/N was a little less cosmic than her mother, she did hold the belief that there would be a “right person, right time” situation that magically manifested into her life; whether it be a college romance in her literature class, a new doctor sweeping in from across seas at her job, or a handsome stranger reaching for the same vinyl at the record store– but those instances never came to pass. Instead, Y/N found herself invested in work, house restoration, and antique hunting on her weekends with Roy or her father. Her hope had not diminished in finding the right man, but it had become something she had tucked away and forgotten about. With the adoptions of the hybrids, Y/N was certain her mother would get up to her old tricks again, and Y/N would have few defenses against them after all this time.

Above her head, Y/N heard scuffling footsteps, likely where the tour Hoseok was leading was at the moment. The room above her bedroom was one of the tower rooms, the gray and maroon one– the room that her older male cousin always stayed in when her grandparents lived in the house. It had a little balcony attached to it, where one or two people could stand on and look out over the backyard, but had no space for a chair or much else. Smoothing the fabric of her fresh tee shirt, Y/N made her way back to the staircase at the front of the house, stowing away the materials she had used on Friday night to strip it in the broom closet. She was a little behind schedule with the restoration work, but she figured she’d be able to get back to the grind in the next coming weeks, once the hybrids felt more at home and fell into a routine.

After a few moments of polishing a glass vase with a cloth on the table by Seokjin’s previous room, Y/N heard the clanging of the door knocker indicating her parent’s arrival. Tucking the cloth into her back pocket with a curse, Y/N tried her best to compose a pleasant expression on her face as she went for the door.

“Hi honey! We waited until the rain let up to come on over, oh! I see you’ve started on that staircase,” her mother rushed past her with large recycle bags as soon as Y/N swung the door open, her father sheepishly hobbling after her wheeling a little wooden wagon stacked with containers. Sputtering, Y/N patted her mother’s back as she quickly squeezed her, the midnight blue velvet shawl she was wearing slipping from her shoulders to her hooked elbows.

“Here, let me take those,” Y/N grabbed two of the bags her mother had stuffed with food, her father ruffling Y/N’s hair affectionately in greeting.

“Don’t refinish that staircase with that horrid glossy varnish again. When my father did that, I thought your grandmother was going to have a heart attack,” her mother warned, narrowing her eyes at the humongous box of hybrid clothes by the stairs Y/N had yet to unpack.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Y/N affirmed, making haste after her father who was already on his way to the kitchen.

“Now, where are your friends, honey?” Her mother inquired, her silver bangles making clinking noises as she gesticulated around the kitchen. Y/N hummed softly as she began unpacking boxes of salad greens and sacks of potatoes from the first bag.

“They’re upstairs, I think. I just brought three home from the shelter this morning, so one I had brought back yesterday offered to show them around to pick out bedrooms,” Y/N explained, wondering when Hoseok would bring everybody back down, and if he’d let Seokjin in on the situation at hand. “There’s still one I’m going back for tomorrow. It seems that it’s pretty difficult to earn his trust,” Y/N added, sliding several new bottles of condiments into the fridge.

“It’s good that you’re waiting for him to open up a bit more, darling. One of the worst things you can do to a hybrid is force them into a situation while they’re still distrustful of you,” her father pointed out the obvious, handing her a jug of orange juice.

“How old are these hybrids of yours, anyways, Y/N?” Her mother asked, packing a bunch of frozen fruit into the freezer.

“They’re all mid-to-late twenties,” Y/N replied casually, stretching up on her tiptoes to fill the cabinets with cans of various beans and boxes of pasta. Her mother had truly gone all out at the grocery store, like she was preparing her for a hurricane.

“Oh, good. They’ll fit in with all of your friends during the cookout,” her father said positively, folding up empty bags to put in the wagon he had brought along. His green jacket had a couple of yellow leaves stuck to it.

“I’m going to make some of those bean burgers out on the grill for lunch, honey. Keep the potato salad out, will you?” Her mother started towards the patio by herself with a lighter and a platter of patties and cheese, her father shaking his head fondly.

“Everything alright, sweetheart? You look like you haven’t been getting much sleep,” her father asked once her mother was out by the grill, accepting a stack of plates from Y/N. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Y/N smiled. Her father was always quick to see what was really going on with her.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been pulling a few late nights, and I had one of those nightmares last night– the one I used to have as a kid,” Y/N admitted, hugging her midsection. Her father’s eyebrows knit together in concern, smoothing his hand over hers on the counter.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s probably stress related, you’ve had some exciting past few days, with the adoptions and quitting your job,” he assured her, turning around when he heard her mother shouting at him through the glass door. Her father, unlike her mother, was not one for the supernatural or unexplained.

“She needs the buns. I’ll be right back,” her father murmured, bag of bulkie rolls in his fist as he trudged out into the patio.

Y/N put the remaining groceries away, the refrigerator and cabinets now fully stocked. She was extremely grateful to her mother, once admiring the full shelves, knowing that she likely wouldn’t have been able to make it to the store for a few more days herself. Somewhat comforted by her father’s logical words on the topic of her nightmare, she decided not to worry about it too much. Thinking about it too much may encourage the nightmares to begin recurring again.

“Hoseok said your parents are here?” Y/N spun around at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, his fiery eyes trained on her as he leaned against the counter. Again, Y/N wondered how long he had been standing there while she was staring into the cupboard with her eyes glazed over. He had a habit of sneaking up on her.

“Oh! Hi, Seokjin,” Y/N made her way to him, nodding her head towards the patio. “They’re out there. My mom’s making us some lunch.”

Seokjin followed Y/N’s gesture, peering out the window while she checked him out. His posture was lax, shirt a bit wrinkled from sleep, but there didn’t appear to be any blood leaking out from his patched-up wound through the fabric. Y/N was surprised he didn’t appear to have any sort of hangover, even with the 3/4th’s of a bottle of wine he had the night before.

“Ah. You look like your mom,” Seokjin commented under his breath, a whisper of a smile on his face. Blushing, Y/N busied herself with collecting silverware to place on the counter.

“How are you feeling today?” Y/N asked, Seokjin tearing his gaze from her parents bickering over the grill.

“Much better. Look,” turning back to see what Seokjin wanted to show her, Y/N nearly fell over as she came face-to-face with Seokjin lifting his shirt up to his shoulders, rotating slowly so she could see his side. Trying to keep her mouth from falling open, she realized the wound had mended itself to something that looked more like a nasty cat scratch, and his bruising had all but vanished. The fabric of his shirt fell quickly as he lifted it, Y/N’s face as hot as an iron.

“U-um, good! It looks like it healed pretty quickly!” Y/N rushed out, hastily stacking napkins on the island and almost shouting in relief as Hoseok bounded into the kitchen with Yoongi and Jimin in tow.

“They’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed, ears flickering as he looked out the window. Yoongi was reaching for the donut box again, and with the look of his thin cheeks, Y/N had no qualms letting him eat them all at this point.

“They brought us food, too,” Seokjin added, pointing to the cabinet full of snacks Y/N had left open before he came into the kitchen.

“Did you all pick out a room you like?” Y/N inquired, Yoongi tucking into a glazed donut. Nodding, he pointed to the ceiling.

“I’m going to stay in that beige room upstairs, if that’s alright. I like your piano up there, too. It’s beautiful,” Yoongi said through a mouthful of donut, sinking into a barstool.

“Of course, I was hoping one of you would stay in a tower room. Thank you, by the way– that piano has been here a long time, before my grandparents lived here. I think it was my grandmother’s father’s,” Y/N smiled, fond memories of trying to teach herself songs on the piano as a child popping up in her mind.

“Jeongguk picked that other tower room, the dark one. He went out to smoke again, said he’ll be down after,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, pushing hair out of his face. So Jeongguk would be in the room above Y/N– fitting, as her older cousin that used to stay there was just as bristly as him.

Taehyung appeared in the doorway, his expression a touch nervous as he noticed Y/N’s parents outside. He hung back, fiddling with the petals of a wilting flower arrangement on the coffee bar that Y/N had forgotten to replace a couple of days ago.

“And Taehyung is in that purple room by the billiard’s room. At least, that’s where he put all his stuff. He’s still not talking to us,” Hoseok muttered into Y/N’s ear, helping her set out glasses on the counter. It was curious, Taehyung seemed to only speak directly to her, and avoided the others at all costs. Even now, it looked like Taehyung wanted to say something to her as he watched her and Hoseok at the sink, but with the fox hybrid and Seokjin flanking her sides, he wouldn’t move an inch.

Flinching as the glass door of the slider screeched open, Y/N took a deep breath bracingly as her mother came in from outside.

“Honey, I need the hot sau– my goodness!” Her mother exclaimed upon seeing the kitchen filled with the five hybrids, pressing a hand to her mouth with glee. “Oh, honey– honey! Watch the burgers, I’ll be there in a few moments,” she shut the door, shooting Y/N a pointed look as she scanned all of the hybrids with a thoughtful face.

“Mom! Uh, let’s see,” Y/N panicked, waving her hands around, gesturing to Seokjin, “This is Seokjin, and Hoseok and Jimin… Yoongi is on the stool here, and over by the coffee pot that’s Taehyung,” Y/N blurted, each hybrid’s ears fluttering at the sounds of their names.

“My, you’re all such handsome young men, something my daughter neglected to tell me,” her mother crossed her arms with a playful expression, a choked sound coming from Hoseok’s throat next to Y/N. Heart falling to her ass, Y/N immediately felt heat shoot up her neck and pool in her cheeks, mouth gaping in horror at her mother’s audacity.

“Mom!” Y/N squeaked, wishing the floor would open up and suck her into the Earth’s core. Yoongi was laughing, eyes scrunched up in mirth as he watched the mortification bloom across Y/N’s features, and Y/N couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with any of the others.

“Relax, honey, could you get me that hot sauce?” Her mother waved her off, apparently not noticing Y/N’s distress. Numbly, she fumbled for the bottle in the fridge, Seokjin opening the door for her with an amused smile smugly set on his lips.

“Oh! Another one,” she heard her mother say, Y/N whipping her head around to see Jeongguk stalking into the room, eyes wide as he stared at her mother. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows, exchanging a bracing look with Y/N as she hastily brushed past him to shove the hot sauce in her mother’s hand.

“Um… Jeongguk…” the elk hybrid replied warily, trying to nonchalantly tuck the pack of cigarettes in his hand into his sweatpants pocket. Forcing herself to laugh lightly, the sound coming out more chopped up than she had hoped for, Y/N patted her mother on the back, urging her towards the patio again.

“Y/N, honey, I need another spatula too. Stop trying to shoo me away,” batting Y/N’s hand away, her mother winked at her knowingly.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll get it for you,” Jimin pulled a metal spatula off the wall hook by the stove, saving the day as he spoke up bravely. Mouth hanging open, Y/N stepped to the side as Jimin handed her mother the spatula, sliding the glass door to the outside open. “Do you need any help on the grill?”

“Oh, dear, that would be just wonderful…my husband is dreadful on the grill. Are you a Libra? You’re so polite,” her mother hooked a hand around Jimin’s elbow, the coyote hybrid’s bright smile as he led her out the door ever-blinding, but his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“A-a Libra?” Y/N heard Jimin stutter, leading her mother out to her father. Head in her hands, Y/N felt a migraine coming on.

“Jesus Christ. I’m sorry about her, she can be a little forward,” Y/N mumbled, too embarrassed to turn around and face the remaining hybrids. After that show, she wasn’t even worried about her father saying something vaguely silly to any of them.

“She’s funny. I’m going out there,” Hoseok returned confidently, giving Y/N’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze as he breezed past her and outside. Scoffing, disbelief flooding through her, she watched the fox hybrid saunter out to the grill, giving her father a firm handshake with a dimpled grin.

“Are we sitting out there?” Seokjin inquired suddenly, next to her with the stack of plates and silverware. Nodding dumbly, he too exited the kitchen in pursuit of the picnic table outside, tail swishing languidly behind him. Apparently, Y/N was the only one feeling the embarrassment of the whole situation.

“Well, at least Namjoon isn’t here, that’s all I gotta say,” Yoongi piped up as Y/N crawled to the coffee bar. Barking out a short laugh, Y/N pulled a fresh mug from the shelf to pour the dregs of the coffee pot into it, taking it like a shot. Watching her carefully was Taehyung, putting the bag of coffee beans down he had occupied himself with studying during the entire exchange with her mother.

“Fair, I suppose. Ugh, it’s just like her to ask Jimin about his zodiac sign, I mean seriously… oh shit, I should hide the tarot cards in the library before she gets an idea,” Y/N complained, dropping her mug into the sink with dismay. Yoongi simply chuckled, tucking a lock of his long hair behind his ear and rising from his seat.

“Should we go out?” Yoongi jabbed a thumb towards where the others were, Jimin appearing to be manning the grill with her father, Seokjin cornered by her mother at the picnic table. Gripping the countertop with unease, Y/N nodded as Yoongi looked at her quizzically, taking the container of potato salad with him.

“Let’s get this over with,” Y/N muttered to herself, Taehyung underfoot like a shadow as they marched outside. The last to trudge out, of course, was Jeongguk, who kept a good distance between himself and everybody else, eyes narrowing across the backyard towards the one of the trails further out into the property. Y/N wondered if he was planning his escape route, not that she blamed him.

“Yoongi! You’re a cook, right? Are these done?” Hoseok shouted from the grill, Y/N’s father scratching the back of his head as he hesitantly poked at a burger with a spatula, Jimin checking the propane levels of the tank under the grill. Shaking his head, Yoongi went over to investigate, exchanging the potato salad for the spatula with her father with an encouraging look.

“I brought these out, too,” jumping at Taehyung’s deep voice beside her, he lifted the napkins and glasses balanced in his arms. Despite his build being less muscular than Jeongguk’s, Taehyung had demonstrated considerable strength in the past couple of hours– especially with the stack of nine water glasses he was currently holding up with three fingers.

“Oh, good, thank you Taehyung! Let’s go rescue Seokjin and help set the table, shall we?” Y/N eyed her mother, who had somehow managed to get Seokjin to sit down on the bench while she perched on the table in front of him, explaining something with wild hand gestures. Seokjin looked extremely confused, ears turned backwards.

“Hi, everything alright over here?” Y/N interrupted her mother, who was actually giving Seokjin a history lesson on the grounds. Seokjin’s eyes softened as he saw Y/N peek over her mother’s shoulder.

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be my silly girl? Don’t worry so much, Y/N, I was just telling Seokjin here about the pond over by the old stable back there,” her mother smoothed a hand over Y/N’s back comfortingly, her spicy perfume suddenly making her nostalgic. Y/N was just glad she wasn’t inquiring about a betrothal between Seokjin and herself.

“I didn’t know there was so much land back here,” Seokjin straightened out a plate beside him, curiously watching Taehyung place the glasses and napkins and brushing leaves off of the table.

“Well, that’s because Y/N hasn’t started clearing all the brush out of here, honey. When I was a kid living here, my father and uncles were meticulous with the landscaping,” her mother informed him, irking Y/N as she reminded her of all of the things she had yet to accomplish with the family home.

Lowering herself onto the dampened wood of the picnic bench across from Seokjin, Y/N grimaced at the slimy feeling, all too familiar from summer's past. Taehyung made himself comfortable next to her, not noticing her mother studying the side of his face as he lowered an ant crawling by his plate onto the grass.

“You’re Taehyung, right sweetheart?” Standing, her mother found her spot next to Seokjin, whose cheeks were turning rosy as she used his shoulder to lower herself down. Taehyung nodded, twiddling his fingers, evidently not keen on speaking to her mother, either.

Y/N could hear Jeongguk and Yoongi bickering from all the way where she was sitting, but she sensed no malice in the words yet. Her father was laughing with Jimin and Hoseok, deep in conversation. Y/N had a suspicion earlier that her father would like Hoseok; they were pretty similar in certain ways Y/N had observed in the fox hybrid so far. Jimin was nothing but perfectly pleasant in general, so it was no surprise that he was able to charm both of her parents.

Starting to relax a little bit now that she had her eye on her mother, Y/N felt the caffeine start to make her crash a little. There were so many things she wanted to do later in the day with the hybrids, namely gifting them all of their new clothes and maybe going for a nice evening walk around the trails in the backyard. She wasn’t too sure if she could fit in a nap that afternoon, but she was determined to make the most of the energy she had left in order to make everyone feel at home, safe, and entertained– perhaps to make up for the spontaneous dropping in of her parents, as well.

As she was lost in thought, she hardly registered her father, ambling over with the potato salad and a frosty jug of iced tea from the fridge, setting it down on the table and snapping her out of her reverie as he took his spot next to her mother. The latter had gone back to chatting with Seokjin about the house, his attentive listening actually quite adorable. Melting a tad, Y/N poured a glass of tea for Taehyung and then herself, sliding the jug across the table for Seokjin. In the middle of all of this, Jeongguk had found his way to the table, sitting at the farthest part of the table on Y/N’s side.

“Here we go,” Yoongi carefully approached the table, perfectly cooked burgers nestled on the platter on his arm making Y/N’s mouth water. He had tucked the spatula in the waistband of his sweatpants, Hoseok right behind him with his own plate of buns.

“Ah, look. Yoongi even toasted the buns,” Hoseok pointed out excitedly, setting them down in front of her father and taking his seat next to him. Yoongi was a little pink from standing in front of the grill, clutching the platter tightly as Jimin danced around him to grab a seat beside Hoseok. Everyone still seemed to be avoiding both Taehyung and Jeongguk, Yoongi reluctantly sitting in between them with his lips pursed.

“Thank you for taking over, honey. I think you cooked them better than I could have,” her mother gushed to Yoongi, already helping herself to a bun and burger. Yoongi ducked his head in embarrassment, taking a sip of some iced tea Seokjin had kindly poured for everyone else at the table.

“Yoongi said he worked at a bar in the city, cooked there, too,” Hoseok said around a mouthful of potato salad, swatting a mosquito that was buzzing around his twitching ears.

“What bar? My husband and I have been to almost every bar in Boston,” her mother inquired, putting a bun and burger on Seokjin’s plate for him. Clearing his throat, Yoongi’s hands stilled while slathering ketchup on his bun, an odd look crossing his face.

“The Black Lodge,” was all he said in response, quickly taking a bite of his burger to prevent him from having to speak further. The name rang a small bell in Y/N’s mind, but she had no memory of actually spending time at a bar by that name– it certainly wasn’t one on the streets of her old stomping grounds, perhaps it was closer to Cambridge, or tucked away in a corner street she and her friends didn’t venture out to. Her mother and father exchanged identical shrugs, apparently they hadn’t patroned the bar either.

Her father was extremely interested in Jimin’s time as a rancher, perhaps because he was a fan of old western movies. Thankfully, he didn’t bring this fact up, as Y/N recalled Jimin’s recoil from Hoseok’s cowboy comment. Taehyung remained quiet as a mouse next to her, his elbow occasionally brushing her’s when he reached for his glass of tea. She’d have to do some brainstorming on how to get him to open up a bit more to the others; Y/N was just counting her lucky stars he was even speaking to her.

“Y/N, honey, remember Mrs. Khan’s hybrid when you were little? Keaon, the white fox… they moved away, our old neighbors– to Maine. Well, anyways, don’t you remember him? You always loved when he’d shift, and play with you in the yard,” her mother suddenly brought up, both embarrassing and puzzling her. She shrunk a little under the gazes of most of the hybrids, their expressions piqued with interest.

“Yeah, I remember Keaon, why do you ask?”

“Well, I noticed Hoseok is a fox, too! You know, foxes have always been Y/N’s favorite animal ever since she was a kid,” her mother said matter-of-factly, Y/N flinching in her seat with her statement.

“I–” she started, words dying on her lips as Hoseok began laughing boisterously.

“Oh, is that true?” Hoseok chuckled, thankfully not sending a wink her way as the table all turned to look at him.

“Yes, yes! There’s a picture framed in the library of her and Keaon, we took it at the cookout before they moved away. Oh, poor Y/N– she was devastated when he left,” her mother pouted sympathetically, Y/N wanting to bolt into the house and lock her bedroom door. So much for her mother backing down on the humiliation.

“Alright mom, come on! I was like ten when they moved!” Y/N groaned in exasperation, her appetite vanishing as she poked some potato salad on her plate with a fork. She hadn’t thought about Keaon in years, and was surprised that her mother had made the connection to Hoseok before she had. In addition, she felt eyes boring into her from all directions, increasing her discomfort tenfold.

“Dear, did you know that Jimin worked at a national park?” Her father changed the subject, picking up on Y/N’s embarrassment, the table breaking into a new conversation with Jimin at the center of it. Breathing a sigh of relief, she happily sunk into the background, her father clearly favoring both the coyote hybrid and Hoseok. Her mother continued to fuss over Seokjin, piling more potato salad onto his plate, before considering Yoongi’s empty plate and reaching over the table to do the same.

Jeongguk had smuggled his little journal to the table, Y/N noticed him hiding it on his lap, flipping through it almost frantically and periodically checking his surroundings like he was being surveilled. Raising an eyebrow, Y/N wondered what exactly the journal contained – he didn’t seem like the diary type.

The sun had come out by now, warming Y/N’s skin pleasantly and evaporating the gloomy mist that was hugging the brush in the backyard. The light shone on pretty strands of crimson in Hoseok’s dark auburn hair as he teased Jimin, who looked more relaxed than ever conversing with the fox hybrid and her father. While the lunch had its hiccups at Y/N’s expense, it brought her happiness that her parents seemed to like all of the hybrids so much, and the latter didn’t seem to mind their questions or antics.

Now that she thought about it, perhaps she was overestimating her mother’s matchmaking tendencies. While she was certainly aggressive about it in college, over the last couple of years her mother had backed off significantly with the blind dates and nudging her towards handsome strangers at the library whenever she helped out with the book club. She hadn’t even offered Y/N a love reading in quite some time. Y/N started to feel a bit bad for thinking that her mother would try and set her up with hybrids she would be living with, painting such a bad picture of her in her head when in reality she seemed to truly be determined to make the hybrids feel welcomed.

“Cookout?” Seokjin’s voice had her re-focusing on the flow of the conversation.

“I guess she hasn’t had the time to tell you all yet. This Friday, Y/N is going to host our end-of-the-summer cookout here. We have a bonfire, lots of food, and you’ll get to meet the neighbors!” Her mother cheerily exclaimed, collecting dishes from people in her immediate surroundings. Seokjin cocked his head, looking at Y/N for confirmation. He had a little bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah! It’s always a lot of fun, and you can meet some of my friends, too,” Y/N encouraged, knowing that her weekly three-way video call with Laura and Alice was coming up, creating the perfect opportunity for her to break the news of the adoptions and the upcoming cookout. Laura wasn’t able to come the year before, her son coming down with a fever the day of the event, so Y/N knew that she’d be extremely excited to introduce her son to the hybrids; kids loved them, and it would be very sweet to see the hybrids interact with a child, Y/N thought.

Y/N hadn’t seen her two friends, the twin sisters Laura and Alice Santos, who she had met in elementary school – in months. With her hours at work, Laura’s packed schedule with little Kai and her husband Tyler taking up much of her time, and Alice’s newly appointed position at the newspaper she wrote for, all three girls passed each other by like ships in the night. Gone were the days of spending the weekends at new tapas bars and trendy brunch spots once the pace of adult life really began to pick up. Y/N was desperate for time with her girlfriends, the thought of a sleepover watching 90’s rom coms and eating greasy pizza with them almost brought a tear to her eye. She was determined to make more plans with them for the future with her newfound free time, once she actually saw them at the cookout, not planning on letting them leave without at least one adventure in the books.

Y/N began to help everyone clear away the plates, noticing Jeongguk sneaking away towards the side of the house, nose in his notebook and cigarette burning at his fingertips. Shaking her head, Y/N sped into the house, trying to avoid Hoseok in case of the likely event he’d begin to tease her about the fox conversation. Yoongi was hard at work at the sink already with gloves, scrubbing grease off of the spatula and handing Jimin utensils to place in the dishwasher.

“Oh dear! What time is it, honey? I have to get to the library for the book club by two!” Her mother suddenly gasped as she lugged plates into the kitchen, snatching her father’s wrist to get a look at the time on his watch. A frown settled over her features, pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders in dismay.

“If you want to be on time, we should probably get going, darling,” her father noted calmly, giving Hoseok a pat on the back as he picked up a fork her father dropped in the chaos.

“I’m sorry, sweets, we wanted to stay a bit longer and get to know you all some more, but I suppose it’ll have to wait until Friday,” her mother rubbed Y/N’s arm mournfully while she put the jug of iced tea back in the fridge, her head turned to speak to the hybrids. Snorting at her mother’s affection for the hybrids already, she walked her parents to the door, Seokjin and Taehyung evidently competing to see who could stick to her more closely on the way. She thought she felt a light tug at the back of her tee shirt, but chalked it up to her wild imagination.

“By the way, honey. I talked to Judy the other day; she’s looking for help at her shop in town. Something to think about, while you figure out what’s next,” her mother suddenly offered, pausing on the porch. Judy, her mother’s friend from high school, owned a metaphysical store in the town square, selling candles, books, and herbs. Not exactly similar to what she was doing at the animal hospital, but a possible source of income nonetheless.

“Okay, I’ll think about it. Bye mom, dad,” Y/N pulled her parents into a group hug, grateful for the book club’s meeting cutting their visit short. Her father ruffled her hair once more, lugging the wooden wagon that was carrying the food earlier down the porch steps. Waving to Seokjin and Taehyung hanging by the threshold of the front door, her mother spirited away down the street, her father trying his best to keep up in her haste.

Y/N let out a long, ragged breath of relief as they disappeared from view, making a mental note to check in with Judy sometime during the week. It was highly likely that her mother told Judy that Y/N would be able to start right away, and it wasn’t the worst job she could land while figuring out where her career would take her next. Besides, she definitely needed an income to cover future expenses in order to provide for her new housemates.

Turning to the two hybrids waiting for her at the door, she gave them a grateful smile, hoping it would convey her sympathy for putting up with her parents for so long. Seokjin, with his sweet disposition, had gotten the brunt of her mother’s fussing and doting. At least Taehyung’s silence saved him from some cheek-pinching. Seokjin stepped to the side, allowing her through the door, closing it as soon as Taehyung scampered out of the way. Y/N stopped short at the stairs, the big box of clothes sparking a happy excitement for the first time that afternoon.

“What’s in there? I noticed it this morning, did you order a refrigerator or something?” Seokjin wondered aloud, nudging the box with his sock-clad foot. Y/N heard the sound of the dishwasher kicking on, and the hushed voices of Jimin and Yoongi in the kitchen.

“I got you guys some clothes, just to last you until we can get to the stores and you can pick out stuff yourself. I felt bad you only had that one set from the shelter, but I hope you like some of the things I picked out… I don’t know your personal styles, yet, of course,” Y/N replied, using her thumbnail to slice open the tape on the box. A soft exclamation came from Seokjin as he stood behind her crouched form, curiously watching her peel the flaps of the box open while Taehyung plopped down on the stairs to do the same.

“You got us clothes? When?” Seokjin breathed, Y/N pulling out all of the sock packs piled on the top of the order and setting them to the side. Humming a tune, she happily made piles for each hybrid, checking the sizes on the packs of boxers to make the piles accordingly. She hadn’t noticed Taehyung turning pink at the sight of the underwear, turning his face to stare at the basement door.

“Last night! I found a great online site, overnight delivery. I wrote down all your measurements on my phone yesterday morning so I could get things that fit properly.”

“Huh? What’s all this?” Hoseok strolled out of the kitchen, eyes round in surprise at the rather large stacks of underwear, socks, and pajamas Y/N was still adding to. She was amazed at how small the items were folded in order to fit inside the box, it seemed practically bottomless.

“Y/N bought us some clothes!” Seokjin was now crouched down next to Y/N, eagerly glancing into the box as she unpacked it. Hoseok whistled, plucking up a pair of slides that Y/N placed on top of Jeongguk’s pile to examine.

“Oh, no, Hoseok, these ones are yours,” Y/N pointed to the pile by his foot, Hoseok promptly setting Jeongguk’s down and trying on his own pair of slides, flexing his feet and taking them for a lap around the foyer.

“Wow, these are comfy,” Hoseok commented, running in place. Giggling, Y/N pulled out a cobalt blue v-neck long sleeve, checking the tag to recall who she had gotten it for. The material was much silkier and softer than the picture on the website gave justice for, and she had to suppress the urge to press it to her face.

“Taehyung, this is for you,” Y/N sang, placing it gently in his lap instead of his pile she had been stacking on the step next to him. He ran his fingers over the shirt, holding it up to his chest to check the fit.

“You didn’t have to get all of this, you know,” Hoseok tutted, hesitantly accepting the sage thermal from her outstretched hand. Seokjin grumbled from beside her, shooting the fox hybrid a dirty look. Scoffing, she added the black satin button down she had purchased for Yoongi into his heap.

“And what? Let you all stroll around in a single set of sweats for a week? Come on, Hoseok,” Y/N scolded, spotting Jimin and Yoongi slinking into the room in search of the commotion. Hoseok was effectively clammed up with her response, scratching the back of his head, his lips pressed together.

“Whoa, is it Christmas?” Yoongi shouldered past Hoseok, the front of his white tee shirt wet from washing dishes at the sink. Hair falling forward, his ears turned back as Y/N gestured towards his stash of clothing, eyebrow raised. “So that was what was in that huge box.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should leave Namjoon’s things in this box?” Y/N pondered aloud, folding the dusty rose thermal she had gotten for him, the fabric cozy to the touch. She could place his toiletries in there, too, so he’d have everything in one place when he arrived. Judging by his measurements, Namjoon was the biggest of all the hybrids, only piquing Y/N’s curiosity over his appearance, as well as her intimidation towards him already.

“Where’s the elk?” Hoseok peeked into the kitchen, his slides making a slapping sound against the marble tile of the foyer. “He’s going to give himself lung cancer at this rate.”

“Ah, just leave him, Foxy, it’s nice without the storm cloud he brings along with him,” Yoongi complained from his spot on the floor he had dropped to, throwing his head back in annoyance. Snorting, Y/N finished sorting out all of the clothing, partly regretting stacking everything on the floor because it would be difficult for the hybrids to carry so many items to their rooms without making multiple trips; and she only had two hands to help one at a time.

“Your parents were so nice,” Jimin commented out of the blue, Y/N almost forgetting he was there leaning against the staircase banister by Taehyung. A noise of surprise ripped from the back of her throat, recalling her mother’s arm looped through Jimin’s when he went outside to help at the grill, like he was walking her through a homecoming promenade. “Although, I felt bad that I didn’t know what your mother meant by being a ‘Libra’,” he trailed off, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Y/N giggled, tucking away Namjoon’s things for later. Seokjin was busy admiring the lavender shirt she offered him, his tail flicking back and forth in a pleased manner, the appendage occasionally brushing her calf from where she was crouched.

“It’s a zodiac sign, there’s twelve of them, and they’re given according to your birthday. Funnily enough, you are a Libra, Jimin – October 13th, right?” Y/N had all of the hybrid’s birthdays on her phone already, noticing the night before that Jeongguk and Namjoon’s birthdays were coming up quickly. Y/N loved celebrating birthdays, and had to come up with a scheme to get close to the two hybrids somehow so she could plan a nice celebration for the both of them.

“How did she even guess that?” Yoongi scoffed, hauling himself to his feet with some of his clothes slung over his arms.

“My mother has a bit of a knack for knowing, if that’s what you want to call it,” Y/N shrugged as she almost teetered over trying to stand, electricity zapping through her as Seokjin’s hand slid into her’s, gently hoisting her onto her feet. Unfortunately for her, her foot caught an old floor tile that was sticking up a little, making her stumble back directly into Seokjin’s broad chest– a small oof coming from the jaguar hybrid at the contact.

Though Seokjin was the one she knocked into, it felt like she was the one with the air punched out of her, his hands coming around to grip her waist to right her upwards and away from his chest. Squeaking out an apology and a thank-you, she couldn’t bear to turn and get a look at his face. Horrified, she made awkward eye-contact with Hoseok, who had an eyebrow raised at Seokjin’s hands still around her waist. Quickly stepping away from Seokjin, his hands sliding from her body, she gathered up some of Jimin’s clothes, eager to flee the scene with the coyote hybrid who was surreptitiously looking out the window by the front door.

“I’ll help you guys carry this stuff to your rooms, okay? Just gonna start with Jimin, his room’s the closest,” Y/N rushed out loudly, halfway down the hall already. Her heart was racing, seeing the smug look on Yoongi’s face and feeling Taehyung’s eyes bore into the side of her skull when she fell into Seokjin. She really had to work on the clumsiness.

Rushing into Jimin’s room, Y/N laid down the clothes on his impeccably made bed. His window was cracked open, a beat-up copy of Play It as It Lays sitting on the blue velvet chair next positioned next to the window. It wasn’t her copy of the book, but she was pleasantly surprised by Jimin’s taste in literature. The book must have been one of the items in his knapsack from the shelter garbage bag.

Jimin scuffed into the room shortly after her, Y/N busy placing folded tee shirts into his dresser so she could avoid his eyes. Clearing his throat, he knelt beside her to stack his socks into the drawer. Peeking at him through her peripherals, there was a smirk curling up the corner of his mouth. Huffing, Y/N tucked a pair of pajama pants into the dresser and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Okay, go ahead and laugh,” Y/N insisted, Jimin’s shoulders shaking with his suppressed chuckling. Shaking his head, he allowed a small laugh to escape, golden eyes squinted with glee.

“Miss Y/N, you’re pretty clumsy. If it gets any worse, it may become worrisome,” Jimin remarked matter-of-factly, swatting away the tank top Y/N had tossed at his face. Sighing, she couldn’t help but agree with the coyote hybrid as she was more jumpy than ever since they all had arrived at the house. That, and she could still feel the weight of Seokjin’s hands on her waist, adding to her feelings of jitteriness.

“I have to work on that, don’t I?” Y/N sighed, leaning against the door to the hallway. Jimin worked quickly putting all of his clothes away, humming contentedly as he went, still shaking his head with amusement. “Maybe I should start using that gym downstairs…”

“You could work out with Hoseok, he has great balance,” Jimin encouraged, ear twitching at some sound Y/N couldn’t hear. “I think Jeongguk just came in from the backyard.”

Straightening out, Y/N peered down the hall, nervously grinding her teeth. She’d might as well go out and help Jeongguk with his clothing, as Jimin was pretty much all set with putting his own things away. Cocking his head, Jimin looked at her with sympathy, settling himself on his chair by the window.

“I’m gonna go check in on him. See you in a bit?” With a nod from Jimin, she left his room, setting off down the hall to search for the elk hybrid. She followed her nose, the scent of smoke clinging to Jeongguk as he stood with his back to her, dumbstruck, in the foyer. The other hybrids had cleared out and already lugged their share of clothing away; all that was left was Namjoon’s box and the everything she had left by the stairs for Jeongguk.

“Hey, you’re back?” Y/N skipped up to his side, deciding not to be intimidated by his looks or sharp tongue anymore, it was unlike her anyhow. Besides, killing with kindness was her specialty. Jeongguk flinched at the sound of her voice, hurriedly tucking his journal into his pocket and craning his neck to peer down at her by his side. Somewhere, he had found an Anchor Animal Hospital pen Y/N had stolen from the office, tucked behind his heavily pierced ear. Narrowing his eyes at her, he crossed his arms over his chest, nodding towards the clothes.

“I’m assuming these are for us?” He ignored her greeting, not-so-subtly scooching a few inches away from her. Smirking, Y/N brightened up a bit, loving the potential challenge of getting him to crack.

“Mm-hm, that pile over there is for you. Left everything for Namjoon in that box,” Y/N confirmed, gathering half of his garments up in her arms to help him up the stairs. “Come on, I’ll help you bring it all up to your room.”

“Wait,” Jeongguk choked out, scrambling to grab the remainder of his clothes and jog up the stairs behind her. Muttering curses, Jeongguk followed her towards the end of the hallway to his room, the wallpaper peeling on the walls outside of the bedrooms. Y/N had yet to get to the second floor living spaces for restoration purposes, and to be frank, the whole floor gave her the creeps. She was saving the task for last, once she finished working on her bathroom and the staircase, but now that she had the hybrids living there, she felt it was more important to make the space most of them were occupying less Amityville Horror-esque.

Passing by Taehyung’s room, she caught a glimpse of him shrugging on his new hoodie in the full-length mirror by his closet. Grinning, she continued to Jeongguk’s bedroom, a cool breeze coming in through the little door out to the balcony he had left open. While the bedroom was newly refinished, it still set her on edge, mainly due to the memories of her cousin chasing her out of that very bedroom in a Ghostface mask as a kid. Y/N gently laid Jeongguk’s clothes on the velvet bench in front of his bed, the elk hybrid awkwardly standing in the doorway with his arms full of packs of boxers and socks. She wanted to get a better look at him, especially his tattoos and the antlers encircling his head, but found it hard to stare at him for too long.

“Did you walk around the back yard a bit? It goes back pretty far,” Y/N opened up his empty wardrobe, the deep scent of hickory smacking her in the face. Jeongguk grunted in response, shuffling over to her side to push the folded clothes into the wardrobe with haste. Snorting, Y/N continued to put his clothes away, smoothing out the materials so they laid flat. As they worked side-by-side, she studied the red iris tattooed on his forearm with minor interest.

“How are you planning on getting the wolf back here? From the looks of it, he doesn’t like you at all,” Jeongguk said after a few moments, taking Y/N by surprise. Frowning at the pajama pants she was sliding into the wardrobe, she considered his statement– while rude, he wasn’t wrong at all.

“I’m still thinking about that, honestly. I’m not sure what I can say to get him to trust me just enough to get him out of that shelter, but I really don’t want to have him deal with Gerry much longer. That guy is an asshole,” she admitted, self-consciously squeezing her eyes shut. Jeongguk said nothing, the sound of him traipsing over to the balcony door making her sneak a peek at his form.

Leaning out the window, Jeongguk spoke with a cigarette poised between his lips, “Well, there’s not much you can say to convince him to trust you; trust doesn’t work like that. He either has to suck it up and get in the car with you or rot in that shelter,” he lifted his pierced brow at her, sparking up his lighter, not bothering to ask whether or not he could smoke in the house. Y/N didn’t have the courage to dissuade him, especially when he was seemingly attempting to help her with the Namjoon situation in his own way.

Shutting his wardrobe, Y/N considered his words as he leaned over the balcony to smoke. Perhaps she was going about getting Namjoon home the wrong way; Jeongguk was right, trust has to be earned over time, not with perfectly strung together pretty words to convince. Y/N didn’t think that pointing out to Namjoon the following morning that he would have to continue enduring life at the shelter unless he came along with her was wise, either. She supposed in the end, all she could do was keep persisting and returning to the shelter until he was comfortable to leave with her.

There was also the ordeal of Hoseok’s fear of wolves– something Y/N understood as she had a few phobias of her own– which didn’t make things exactly easier. Y/N felt fortunate that Hoseok was so kind to her right off the bat and her affection for him was already growing steadily, so introducing a hybrid into the house that would make him feel on edge was borderline heartbreaking to her. There would have to be a conversation between her and Hoseok in the near future surrounding the issue, which was another thing she had no idea how to go about. Consulting Seokjin would be a likely solution for tips on how to dance around the subject of Hoseok’s wolf phobia.

Realizing that she was staring at Jeongguk, leaning lazily over the balcony with his eyes roaming rapidly over the landscape of the backyard, Y/N awkwardly shuffled her feet, snapping out of her internal monologue.

“So… I’ll leave you to it. I’m gonna check on the others and clean up a bit downstairs. Um, thanks for your advice, by the way,” Y/N made her way to the door, Jeongguk humming in response, not sparing her a glance as she slipped from the room. She shut the door behind her, hoping it would block out most of the smoky scent coming from the room, trudging down the hall deep in thought.

Jeongguk was a bit of an interesting character. Clearly, he wouldn’t be warming up to her as quickly as say, Hoseok and Seokjin. However, the latter two painted such an unflattering picture of him for Y/N the night prior, and she had yet to experience much from Jeongguk to back that up. Sure, there was the exchange at the shelter, but Y/N could understand where he was coming from with his speculation of her intentions, especially when Ben made similar points in nicer words. With time, Y/N had a feeling that Jeongguk would come around; she was just hoping there would be less fights between him and the others now that they had the space to distance themselves.

“Hi,” a soft greeting had Y/N nearly jump out of her skin, clutching her chest as she whirled around to face the voice– Taehyung, in his new black hoodie, standing outside of his bedroom. She had to get used to people living with her if she didn’t want to have a heart attack every time one of the hybrids sought her out, pronto. Dropping her hand from her chest, she found herself melting under his garnet eyes.

“Hey, Taehyung, that sweatshirt looks nice! What’s up?” She leaned into the banister by the stairs, hearing Yoongi and Seokjin’s voices from the room down the hall with the piano.

“Oh, um, thank you… it’s comfortable. I was just wondering what you were doing,” he murmured while shoving his hands in the hoodie pocket, his voice quite low so Y/N had to strain her ears to hear him. Truthfully, she was on her way to clear out her old wardrobe in the green room on the off-chance Namjoon decided to claim it, as there were plenty of other rooms he would get to choose from. She just didn’t want to be caught with her pants down.

“I was going to pack up my clothes from when I was a teen, and bring them down to the storage closet in the basement,” Y/N swiped a finger over the banister, collecting a thin layer of dust from the wood with a pout. Looks like she had neglected her cleaning duties during the past few months of mayhem at work.

“Can I come?” Taehyung quickly asked, shooting a glance down the hall at a peal of laughter coming from Seokjin. A noise of surprise came from Y/N involuntarily, delighted that she would have some company during her task, and even more excited that she could potentially get to know Taehyung better. Grinning, she nodded enthusiastically, motioning to follow her down the stairs. He synched up in her stride, hair curtaining his face in soft curls, almost completely covering his rounded ears just barely peeking out above the dark curls. Taehyung definitely looked the most human compared to some of the other hybrids, apart from the redness in his eye color.

“Taehyung, I’ve been meaning to ask… what kind of bear hybrid are you? It didn’t say on your information sheet at the shelter, and I’m curious,” Y/N wondered as they descended the stairs, a few out-of-tune notes from the piano floating from the billiard’s room as she spoke.

“Kodiak, I’m from Alaska, originally,” Taehyung answered after a few moments, Y/N having to lean closer to him to hear.

“Alaska! I’ve always wanted to go there, it’s a beautiful state,” Y/N gushed, part of her wondering how he had made it all the way to Boston. Jimin, too, was from far away, and she still didn’t even know where the others had traveled from besides Yoongi, an apparent Boston native.

“Yeah…” Taehyung murmured, evidently not keen on elaborating on his former home.

Again, like when her parents were leaving earlier, Y/N felt a tugging sensation on her shirt hem. Bewildered, she peered at Taehyung– whose hands were still buried in his pockets. A chill crept up her spine as Taehyung cocked his head quizzically, waiting for her to lead the way to the green room, as she felt unease worm its way into her chest.

For a long time, Y/N had shut out her connection to the supernatural elements of life. Y/N, picking a career path that was based in science, logic, and method, had done so in an attempt to distance herself from her childhood and the way she was raised. Her mother, a witch, filled her youth with the beautiful aspects of all that the occult can be; reverence of nature, how to identify friendly house spirits, card reading and spiritual cleansing. But as her mother had once told her, something that she had always kept in the back of her mind: once you open yourself up to the spiritual world, there is no turning back.

There were instances growing up where she had encountered frightening things within her grandparent’s house, and had that recurring nightmare with the terrifying creature pursuing her off and on for years. Spirituality she had once so gleefully embraced had turned into the source of her constantly looking over her shoulder, seeking the owners of whispered words and fingers tugging a lock of hair. She loved the house, but it was full of secrets. Y/N had hoped by the time she had moved in after years of being away from the house, and apart from her dabbling in the supernatural, she could live there with her newly forged skeptic’s mind without a problem. With the return of her nightmare, and the uptick in brushes from an unseen force in the last few days, Y/N saw those hopes dashed and divided.

Unnerved, she sped into the green room, Taehyung following closely behind. It might be time for her to get back into working some protective magic, she didn’t want things to get to the point where spirits were bothering the hybrids. Spirits, hybrids– these weren’t the sort of things Y/N thought she’d be dealing with months ago, so much for the plan of living a semi-normal life.

“Alright, I think this will fit everything…” Y/N tabled her worry over the ghost matter, dragging her old duffle bag out from the closet. Taehyung had made himself comfortable on his side, laying on the bed with his head propped up on his arm. Chuckling, she felt a lot better that there was someone with her while she turned over some of her anxieties in her mind. Flinging open the wardrobe, she cringed at the amount of black tee shirts about to tumble out and drown her, most of them stuffed in there without being folded. She shoved her arms in the wardrobe to pull out a big stack, bringing them over to the bed to place in the duffle bag.

Taehyung sat up, reaching for a tee shirt to fold without a word. Footsteps from upstairs made the tips of Taehyung’s ears flutter, to which he pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt upon noticing Y/N’s eyes on them. Strange.

“Hmm. Alice In Chains, nice,” Taehyung commented after a few moments, smoothing out the tee shirt on his lap with a smirk. That was one of her favorite shirts in high school, and one of the less embarrassing shirts of the bunch compared to the Green Day crop top she was hurriedly stuffing in the duffle bag.

“Grunge fan?” Y/N asked with a smile, dumping another batch of baggy garments on the bed beside him.

“Definitely. Wish I could have seen some of the bands in concert in the 90’s,” he replied with a tone of melancholy. If Taehyung was a classmate of hers in highschool, Y/N would have had an embarrassingly huge crush on him. Nodding in agreement, she wondered if busting out a MTV Unplugged DVD would be a nice bonding moment between them.

As they worked in comfortable silence, Taehyung would occasionally snort with amusement, lifting up a blink-128 tee shirt to Y/N’s humiliation, but it was all in good humor. Leafing through some of the relics of her past usually made her quite sad, but with Taehyung there, and his thoughtful comments on certain artists she used to love, it was actually an enjoyable experience.

“Oh, did you know that Mad Season was–” Taehyung began, but was immediately cut off by the sound of the door creaking open and a newcomer barreling into the room.

“Hey, I was looking for you!” Seokjin exclaimed, his cheeks flushed as his eyes narrowed in on Taehyung before softening at Y/N’s slightly-startled gaping mouth. “What are you guys doing?”

“I’m cleaning out the wardrobe here, just in case Namjoon wants this bedroom. Taehyung’s helping out, too,” she explained, noticing Seokjin’s damp hair and change of clothes. He had donned the lavender tee shirt she had selected for him, which looked unfairly good on him, picking up the sunset in his eyes perfectly.

“Could you use an extra set of hands?” He made his way to her side, picking up a pair of baggy jeans. They were almost done, but Y/N had no right to deny his help when he was so eager to assist.

“Thanks, Seokjin. You’re so helpful,” Y/N praised, giving him a fond pat on his shoulder. Seokjin straightened out his back at the praise, fingers fumbling to fold the denim properly. Taehyung fell into his usual silence again, as he normally did when another hybrid was around, much to Y/N’s disappointment. She’d have to ask him later what he was going to say about Mad Season.

“So, I think tomorrow afternoon, we could all do something fun! We could walk around town, maybe go to the bookstore, get some ice cream before the shop closes for the season. Anything you want to do in particular?” Y/N tucked a plaid pair of pants into the bag, getting it out of her sight as rapidly as possible. After a couple days of mayhem, she thought it would be nice to spend a day out relaxing and getting to know one another.

“Is there a music store around here?” Taehyung mused, Seokjin dropping the lacy tank top he was holding in shock. Y/N, too, was surprised he spoke in front of the jaguar hybrid, but was more overjoyed that he came out of his shell a little bit to do so.

“Yeah, there’s a vinyl shop in the town square. They sell instruments, equipment and offer lessons, too,” Y/N zipped the last of the clothes into the duffle, admiring the empty wardrobe with glee. With some of her new free time, she was considering taking up some piano lessons, so the trip to the music store would be a worthwhile venture in tandem with making Taehyung happy.

With a sweet smile, Taehyung nodded, slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder before Y/N could grasp the straps. Seokjin was still gaping at the Kodiak hybrid, blinking rapidly and nudging Y/N’s ribcage with his elbow. Shrugging, she grasped Seokjin’s wrist to tow him along, hurrying after Taehyung’s path to the basement door. The heavy weight of Seokjin’s wrist in her hand felt grounding, and ever since Seokjin had awoken from his fever the previous day, Y/N couldn’t help but want to be near him, to reach out and touch him in some way. He didn’t seem to mind being pulled along, head hanging bashfully as he tried to match her stride exactly.

“Here?” Taehyung pointed at the bottom of the basement steps, to a little alcove tucked under the stairway where Y/N stashed her winter jackets. She gave him a thumbs-up, reluctantly dropping Seokjin’s wrist she was still cradling, watching Taehyung heave the bag down and push it under the stairs.

Peering around the basement in search of her fox hybrid, Y/N poked her head into the bathroom, twirled around the gym, and even stepped into Hoseok’s room to find it empty. Disappointed, as she was already missing him regardless of his incessant teasing, she pouted, returning to Taehyung and Seokjin already bounding up the stairs. Even with the basement being beautifully and cheerily refinished, she didn’t want to be left alone down there, especially with whatever kept tugging at her shirt all day long.

“Hey Seokjin, you know where Hoseok is?” Y/N gasped as she made it up the stairs, more out-of-shape than she cared to admit. Running after the hybrids was harder than it looked, considering their inhumane speed and strength. Seokjin’s chest wasn’t heaving like her’s from the effort, and Taehyung was even yawning into his elbow.

“Watching TV with Jimin, last I heard,” as if on cue, she heard Hoseok’s laughter ringing through the halls in the direction of the parlor. Y/N nearly fainted at the thought of sinking into the couch for a couple of hours, hoping to marinate in her thoughts about bringing Namjoon home.

“I think I might join them, if you two want to come as well,” she pressed her hand over her heart, the rate slowly going back to normal as she admired the way Seokjin’s curls had dried over his face, silkier now that they were clean. Again, the two clung to her like glue as they followed her to the TV room, sandwiching her so closely she could heat coming off of their bodies. She felt like she had bodyguards, which was a pretty silly thought but at the same time made her feel protected from whatever may come her way.

“Jinnie!” Hoseok sang from the recliner, where he had nestled himself cozily in a throw blanket and an extra pillow. Seokjin cringed next to Y/N, his fingers brushing her arm as he curled them into a fist. Jimin was sitting criss-crossed on the couch close to Hoseok, a glass of iced tea in his hands, an episode of Hell’s Kitchen on the TV.

“Hoseok, I told you I hated that nickname, I’d rather be called cupcake,” Seokjin grit his teeth, looking about ready to throttle the fox hybrid. Y/N snorted at the utter shock registering on Hoseok’s face, a split second from blossoming into hysterics.

“Alright, then, come here, cupcake,” Hoseok managed through fits of laughter, Seokjin fuming as he plopped down on the couch as far away from Hoseok as possible. Jimin was rolling his eyes, turning up the TV a notch to rise above Hoseok’s giggling, scooching over with a soft smile so Y/N could settle down next to him.

Taehyung was left lingering in the doorway, only budging when Y/N patted the open spot between her and Seokjin. As he walked, the hood of his sweatshirt dropped, his hair just matted down enough so his ears were truly visible for the first time. They were positively adorable, rounded and small, and Y/N had to suppress her urge to squeal upon seeing them. Taehyung wiggled in his seat, inching closer to Y/N rather than the grumpy Seokjin muttering under his breath. Jimin smelled delicious next to her, the lavender shampoo she had left in his bathroom for guests coming off of him in tantalizing waves as he raked his hands through his silky honey-colored strands. Getting comfortable, Y/N put her feet up on the ottoman, laughing heartily at Gordon Ramsay calling an unfortunate chef a muppet.

After a couple of hours, Y/N shook out her stiff limbs, suddenly alert after nodding off while watching TV. She had caught her head lolling over onto Jimin’s shoulder, which is what had woken her up, drowsily murmuring an apology with a pat on the back of his hand as she righted herself. Jimin simply smiled softly, his posture adjusted towards her body, telling her she likely was taking a cat nap on his shoulder all this time. Flushing scarlet, she looked around the room, noticing Hoseok had also fallen asleep on the recliner, his lips parted slightly, ears drooped against his head and blanket pulled up to his chin. Taehyung had gone, judging by the way Seokjin had stretched out his legs over the space the Kodiak hybrid had once occupied, the jaguar hybrid still watching Gordon Ramsay roast a team of contestants.

“What time is it? How long was I out? Where’s Taehyung?” Y/N rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. Damn, she hadn’t even thought about her plans for the following morning while she was sitting there, like she intended. Sorry Namjoon, she thought.

“It’s 5 PM, two and a half hours, and he went upstairs shortly after you fell asleep,” Seokjin answered completely, not tearing his eyes away from the television as he spoke. He still looked a little ticked, even though the incident with Hoseok was hours ago, and the fox hybrid was fast asleep. Y/N wanted to go and pinch Hoseok’s rosy little cheeks as he snoozed, looking way too precious for his own good.

“You alright, Jin?” The nickname slipped from her mouth before she could stop it, her drowsiness getting the better of her. Seokjin sat up ramrod straight, ears fluttering furiously as he finally stared her down with a hard-to-read expression. Swallowing thickly, Y/N tried her best not to shrink back into the safety of Jimin’s proximity, painting on nonchalance.

“Uh, I’m fine? Great, I like this show! I’ve never seen it before,” Seokjin floundered, suddenly trying to mask his emotions as best he could. All of that just because she had used his nickname, Y/N noted that for future purposes. Still, she didn’t buy his excuses, because the way his broad shoulders were tensed up, something was obviously still bothering him. She supposed she couldn’t force it out of him if he didn’t want to disclose.

“Miss Y/N, Yoongi came in a while ago. He’s making dinner,” Jimin informed her quietly, his husky voice sending a shiver down her spine. All of these hybrids were completely lethal to her nerves. She was pleasantly surprised, though not without a twinge of guilt that Yoongi was cooking while she slept away on the couch drooling on Jimin’s shoulder. Now that her senses were becoming a bit more sharpened as she came back to the land of the living, she could smell a spicy, herbal, tomato scent in the air. God, she hoped Yoongi was making pasta.

Jimin had switched to whiskey while she was out, and Seokjin had his glass of white wine resting on the coffee table. Shaking her head at the thought of alcohol, she wondered if that was why Hoseok passed out so soundly in his chair, but it seemed there was no drink glass near him. The events of the day must have worn him out – she did make him get up extremely early.

Struggling to her feet, she set off to find Yoongi, assuming Jeongguk was still shut away in his room as Jimin nor Seokjin had mentioned him. Jimin waved her off with a grin, Seokjin ducking his head as she passed by. Man, was he easily flustered.

Following the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, she was nearly blinded by all of the lights Yoongi had turned up, compared to the dimness of the parlor she had come from. He was by the stove, his hair tied back with what looked like a rubber band that came from a bundle of vegetables, stirring a large stockpot serenely. He even had a glass of red wine on the island as he worked, and used dishes soaking in soapy water in the sink. Impressed, Y/N skipped into the kitchen, his spotted ears swiveling in her direction, but his face remained trained on the pot he was stirring.

“Hi, Yoongi!” Y/N greeted, seeking out a glass of water for her dry throat. Reaching by his head for the cabinet containing the glassware, she peeked into one of the pots he had going, a decadent looking tomato sauce simmering away.

“Good morning, sleep well?” Yoongi replied, setting down the slotted spoon he was using to stir spaghetti on the spoon rest. Cringing at the vaguely suspicious look on Yoongi’s face, she figured he must have caught her napping on Jimin. How embarrassing.

“I had no idea I was even going to doze off, I swear. The amount of caffeine I drank today was enough to choke a horse,” Y/N raised her hands in defense, Yoongi’s carefully constructed disapproval crumbling into minor amusement. Going back to stirring the pot of pasta, Yoongi used his other hand to bring a sip of wine to his lips, eyes narrowing at the fettuccine dancing in the boiling water.

Pouring herself some water from the dispenser on the fridge door, Y/N hoisted herself up on the countertop beside the stove, studiously watching Yoongi cook. He simply lifted a brow at her as she drank her water and occasionally sniffed the air, detecting something else that was being cooked. It was a few moments before she realized the oven was on, as she was peering at the floor and swinging her legs happily.

“What else are you making?” She couldn’t stop her query, excited that the kitchen was getting some use after all that time after the renovations her and Roy had worked so hard to complete. Yoongi hummed, hefting the pot of pasta over to the sink to drain it with her flowery pot holders, his tail flicking like an agitated cat. She hoped she wasn’t bothering him.

“I roasted some veggies on a sheet pan, put them in the oven. Chicken, too, with some of those herbs in the fridge,” Yoongi returned the pot to the stove, lobbing a giant hunk of butter into the mound of pasta. Mouth watering, she couldn’t believe he had done so much while she snoozed away, and the guilt from earlier returned tenfold.

“Wow, Yoongi, thank you so much for cooking… lunch, too,” Y/N murmured sheepishly, ashamed that he was picking up slack already in the meal department, mere hours into coming to the house.

“I like to cook,” Yoongi started after a beat of silence burning a hole into the side of her face with his feline stare, putting a lid on his simmering sauce. “It’s relaxing, brings me peace. You don’t have to feel guilty about me taking it upon myself to do something I enjoy.”

Snapping her head up to lock eyes with him, she wondered how he could possibly read the emotions flooding though her, squirming in her spot on the counter as he dissected her with his eyes.

“H-how–?”

“Silly girl. Don’t you know hybrids can pick up on scents better than humans? We can smell your shifts in moods, what they are,” Yoongi turned his back on her, tossing a bowl of salad with a pair of tongs Y/N hadn’t seen before. Dread flooded through her, because no, she did not know that. “I guess you’ve got some research to do.”

Y/N gripped the lip of the granite countertop with panic, realizing the hybrids had been able to smell her vastly extreme range of emotions all this time. Her embarrassment, her fluster, the annoyance, even the frustration was all perfectly legible to them; and there was no way for her to mask it at all. Even with dropping this bombshell on her, Yoongi appeared as though he had said nothing out of the ordinary, apparently ignoring her distress on the countertop as he dressed the salad. He could smell it, anyways.

“Uh, is there anything else I should know right away? Can you read my mind?” Y/N squeaked, Yoongi’s ears dropping flat to his skull as he shot her an unimpressed grimace.

“Who do you think I am, Edward Cullen? No, we can’t read minds,” Yoongi grumbled, although there was a twinkle in his eye that exposed the mirth towards her reactions. “We have better hearing than humans, too. Heart rates, breathing, whispers that you thought we didn’t catch– we can. There’s the scenting, too–”

“Yoongi? Did you make chicken?” Seokjin interrupted, bounding into the kitchen with his empty wine glass. Reeling, Y/N processed all of the new information Yoongi had offered her; the fact they could hear every time her heart skipped a beat, and “scenting”? What on earth was that?

Yoongi shooed Seokjin over to a barstool, claiming that he was “in the way”, although Y/N was seated right in front of the spice cabinet he had to squeak his hand by every so often while she was sitting there. Seokjin smiled at her widely, his cheeks bunching up roundly as he did so. Y/N could only weakly return the action, turning over hundreds of burning questions in her mind distractedly.

“Foxy up yet? It’s almost time to eat, I could use some extra hands to bring everything outside to eat,” Yoongi leaned across the island, filling Seokjin’s empty wine glass with the red he had been drinking. Y/N sprung into action, eager to not look like Yoongi had pulled a carpet from under her feet. Easing herself off the counter, she willed her heart beat to stay steady as she slinked towards the hallway. Seokjin opened his mouth to say something, watching her try to escape the room, but she halted him by speaking first.

“I’ll round everyone up,” Y/N offered, nearly smacking headfirst into Jimin as he entered the kitchen. So much for keeping that heart rate down, Jimin grinning at her like the cat who ate the canary. Shaking her head, she hurried by him, feeling his yellow eyes on her long after she made it to the parlor where Hoseok was.

Tiptoeing to the recliner, Y/N turned off the TV, cooing softly at Hoseok curled up with the throw blanket. His face was so serene, it felt wrong to have to poke him awake, one of his ears twitching slightly as she got close.

“Hoseok?” Y/N whisper-shouted, not wanting to startle him awake. His nose and ears twitched simultaneously, but all he did was pull the blanket closer around his body with a curled fist in the knitted material. Snorting softly, Y/N leaned across his body, tentatively placing her hand on his shoulder and shook. “Hoseok!” She murmured with more volume, squeezing his shoulder.

All at once, his eyes snapped open, his hand shooting out from under the blanket to wrap around her wrist with alarm. Y/N realized just how close her face was to his, able to detect the flecks of gold in his irises, swallowing thickly as his nails dug into the flesh of her sensitive wrist harshly. Wincing, she found herself unable to free herself, stuck hovering over him with her heart hammering around in her ribcage.

As soon as he realized it was her, Hoseok’s eyes widened with disbelief, immediately releasing her wrist with shock. Bringing the sore skin to her chest, she rubbed the crescent-shaped marks with her other hand dazedly. Hoseok scrambled out of the chair, cursing and spewing earnest apologies so quickly Y/N could hardly understand them. She wasn’t frightened by his reaction to being woken up; she couldn’t even imagine some of the ways it could have happened to him in the past– but she was admittedly a little startled at the sheer strength he held in his hand alone. Y/N could hardly move under the vice.

“Shit, shit. I’m so sorry, let me see,” Hoseok held out his hand, eyebrows pinched in concern. Y/N slowly lowered her wrist into his outstretched palm, trying to avoid making him feel worse than he already was. Hoseok sucked in a breath, his fingers curling over her arm and turning it over to grimace at the marks he had left on her, his other hand coming up to brush his fingertips softly over skin erupting in goosebumps at his tender touch.

“I’m okay, Hoseok, It’s my bad for startling you,” Y/N assured softly, his thumb rubbing slowly over the deepest well his middle fingernail had created. Her words did little to melt the guilt festering over his fine features, corners of his mouth turned down in distress. He hadn’t even broken skin, for crying out loud.

“You didn’t… fuck. Seokjin won’t like this,” Hoseok muttered to himself, passing his fingers over her wrist one more time before removing his hands to pull them through his mussed hair. Y/N wasn’t sure what he meant by bringing Seokjin into the situation, but decided to let it go.

“Hey, no harm, no foul! I’m fine. Dinner’s almost ready, that’s why I came to wake you. I should probably grab Taehyung and Jeongguk from upstairs, too,” Y/N nodded towards the kitchen, prompting Hoseok to trudge behind her, tail literally between his legs.

“Let me go get them,” Hoseok pleaded, the apologetic droop in his eyes almost too much to bear.

“Sure, thank you, Hoseok,” Y/N smiled encouragingly, holding his eyes just long enough for him to hang his head briefly and dash up the stairs. By the time he had disappeared up the landing, so too, the marks on her wrist faded significantly. Poor Hoseok, she thought, making her way back to the kitchen.

Shaking off her scattered nerves, she made her way back to the kitchen, Yoongi pulling the tray of chicken and vegetables out of the oven with a grunt. His hair was tumbling out of the flimsy hold the rubber band offered, getting in his eyes as he set the hot pan on the stove. Seokjin appeared to be outside setting the table, his pastel shirt visible by the large willow tree over the dining table. Jimin was with him, two bottles of wine in his arms while he poured several generous glasses for the table. If there was one thing for sure, the hybrids liked to drink.

“What can I take, Yoongi?” Y/N hid her arm behind her back, not chancing the leopard hybrid spotting anything amiss with her. He was poking the chicken with an extended index finger to check the doneness fastidiously, and Y/N thought to herself all he was missing was a cute apron.

“Here, you can take the salad out,” Yoongi approached her after ditching a dish towel he was using to wipe his hands clean, salad bowl in hands. Taking it carefully, she inspected the greens dressed with sliced citrus and shaved parmesan. She couldn’t have made something as elegant in her recent frazzled haze if she tried.

“This looks so good,” she mumbled, mouth watering as she peeked around his shoulder at the sizzling chicken on the cookie sheet. Yoongi smiled slightly, his teeth peeking out adorably, leading her to the door to the patio with a guiding hand hovering over her mid-back. She could feel the warmth of his palm through her shirt even though he wasn’t touching her, grateful for the cooling evening air rushing into her lungs as he urged her outdoors. He assured her he’d be right out, leaving the door open to retrieve the chicken.

Y/N trudged through the overgrown grass with the salad, hoping Hoseok wasn’t still beating himself up. By now, the marks on her wrist were gone, and it truly was an involuntary reaction he had to being woken up. At the table, Jimin was still filling a glass with a hearty pour of Cabernet, a covered casserole dish with the saucy pasta sitting at the center of the table next to a basket of bread rolls and a dish of butter. Yoongi had gone all out.

“Hi guys, I brought the salad,” Y/N plopped down at one of the center seats, noting that Seokjin and Taehyung would likely be flanking her either side. She slid the bowl next to the pasta, grinning as Jimin offered her one of the glasses of wine. Y/N felt the wine coat her throat like liquid velvet, trying to avoid smirking at Seokjin immediately scooting onto the bench next to her.

“Yoongi told me he liked to cook, but I didn’t expect this,” Jimin made himself comfortable across from Y/N, sounding deeply impressed at the spread of food in front of him. Nodding in agreement, Seokjin leaned back on the bench on his palms with his eyes closed, trying to catch rays of the orange sunset on his face.

“Did you get Hoseok up? He can be pretty grouchy when he wakes up,” Seokjin mused, eyes still closed as he sucked in a deep breath pleasantly. Y/N didn’t feel the need to solidify the truth in that comment by relaying the earlier sequence of events.

“Mm-hmm. He’s getting Taehyung and Jeongguk,” Y/N confirmed, expertly disguising her glazing-over of facts with another sip of wine. Speaking of the devil, Hoseok had found his way outside, Taehyung close behind.

“Wow, Yoongi made all this?” Hoseok exclaimed, all evidence of anything amiss with him completely unreadable on his face. Damn, he was good, Y/N thought to herself, as he shot her and Seokjin a cheeky grin. She didn’t miss, however, the way his eyes swept over the skin of her wrist, exposed as she was toying with the stem of her wine glass. The tiny crease between his eyebrows Y/N picked up on disappeared once he realized the marks were gone.

“Out of the way, Jeongguk,” Y/N heard Yoongi shout from across the yard, the elk hybrid appearing to be blocking the way to the table with his leisurely strides. Yoongi stepped around the taller hybrid, making haste for the table with the pan he was holding. As expected, Taehyung slid into the empty spot on her other side, eagerly grasping his filled wine glass.

Everyone settled in pretty quickly, praises for Yoongi’s hard work coming from every direction as they tucked into the meal. Seokjin piled spaghetti on Y/N’s plate for her, reminiscent of her mother filling his plate for him earlier in the day, the memory filling her with warmth. The food was absolutely delicious; down to the pasta sauce Yoongi had admitted was from scratch as well. Y/N inquired about how he had learned to cook so well, his answer being working on the line at the bar and watching the cooking channel on his days off.

“What else did you do at the bar, Yoongi?” Hoseok asked, taking a deep sip from his wine glass, a blush settling over his cheeks. He had avoided eye contact with Y/N for much of the dinner, Y/N distracting herself by lowly speaking to Taehyung beside her about their trip to the record store the next day.

“I told you, I pretty much did everything. I worked on the line making food for a bit, did some bartending. For a while, I helped out with security, bookkeeping… I played piano often during the weekend,” Yoongi pierced a slice of grapefruit from his salad with a fork, pushing it around his plate.

“Oh, a piano bar? How fancy,” Hoseok remarked, nudging the leopard hybrid with his elbow. Yoongi looked peeved, inching closer to Jimin, who was minding his business by munching on a buttered roll.

“Y/N said she’s going to take us to an ice cream shop tomorrow,” Seokjin announced proudly, chest puffing out in excitement. Jimin and Hoseok brightened significantly, Y/N remembering how much they had enjoyed the ice cream bars from their lunch yesterday. Jimin voiced his approval of the plan, smiling fondly at Y/N in a way that made her melt a little in her seat.

“Oh boy, like we’re twelve?” Jeongguk suddenly quipped, filling his wine glass up while rolling his eyes dramatically. Frowning, Y/N began to feel insecure– maybe she was treating them a little childishly.

“Will you just shut up? Why complain when you could just be quiet?” Yoongi barked, fed up with the younger hybrid’s never-ending bitching. Besides, it was uncomfortable to watch the shadow of doubt cross over Y/N’s face, her excitement turning to worry at the drop of a hat.

“Shut up? Maybe you guys are twelve, seriously. I can’t stand it,” Jeongguk shook his head in disgust, pushing his plate of half-eaten food away from him. Hoseok looked positively livid, staring at the elk hybrid so intensely that it made Y/N shiver. Jimin, similarly, had his jaw set in annoyance, however he held his tongue.

“The rest of you might be okay with being nothing more than a domesticated pet, but I’ve had just about all I can stand for today,” Jeongguk rose from his seat and tossed his napkin on his plate, his words hitting Y/N like he had thrown knives at her, visibly flinching into Taehyung’s shoulder.

Yoongi calmly got up from his seat, harshly catching Jeongguk’s wrist as he began to storm into the house. While Yoongi was slight, he must have had considerable strength in his grip, yanking Jeongguk to a halt as the leopard hybrid’s lip curled back.

“You know, you could be a lot worse off right now, elk. You have a lot to be grateful for right now. You have clothes on your back, food to eat, a roof over your head– and most importantly, someone who gives a shit if you’re living and breathing,” Yoongi spat, each word enunciated clearly through his teeth. Hoseok was gripping his fork so tightly it looked like his knuckles were about to come through his skin. Jeongguk yanked his wrist from Yoongi’s grasp with a repulsed expression, stalking into the house with an agitated stride. Y/N flinched again as he slammed the glass door into the house, half expecting it to shatter from the impact.

“He’s such a prick,” Hoseok ground out, appetite vanishing as he read the sadness enveloping Y/N like a heavy shroud. Yoongi returned to his seat, draining his wine glass with measured movements. The scent of guilt was thick in the air, and it made him feel ill.

“Don’t listen to him, Miss Y/N. He’s young, jaded. It doesn’t make what he said right, though,” Jimin rushed to comfort her, hating the way Jeongguk had ruined a perfectly good meal with his thoughtless words. Y/N offered a weak smile, her lips shaking at the corners. To be honest, she felt like crying, but she wasn’t about to break down into tears in front of them.

Seokjin had stayed silent during the entire altercation, but Y/N could see in her peripherals how stiff his posture had grown. He was gripping the bench so hard, his fingernails were scraping wood shavings from the seat.

“It’s alright, Jimin. Um, I’m gonna clean up the kitchen, put away the leftovers… again, thank you for the food Yoongi. It was delicious,” Y/N managed, trying to keep her voice steady, collecting the bowl of pasta, her plate, and Jeongguk’s abandoned setting to dash into the house.

She knew she had to flee before the first tear fell, harshly scrubbing the plates with a sponge while she used her shirtsleeve to hastily wipe away a pathetic tear rolling down her cheek. Y/N was more upset that Jeongguk was under the impression that she intended to reduce them to pets, rather than the fact that he had said it out loud in front of everyone else. Humiliated, she didn’t know how to face the others, let alone go through with the plans for tomorrow’s outing now that what he had said wormed its way into her brain, convincing her she was treating the hybrids frivolously.

Watching red sauce from the pot Yoongi used swirl down the drain, she was thankful the tears had stopped as quickly as they came, anxiety over the hybrids walking into her weeping over the sink preventing any more drops from spilling over her lash line. Part of her wanted to peek at the slider to check if they were on their way in, but she was too afraid she would come face-to-face with Jimin’s sympathetic expression or Hoseok’s barely-contained anger. Sniffling, she dried her hands off, quickly wiping down the counter and stuffing the leftovers into the fridge. She knew it would be polite to go back outside and tough it out, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. A few moments to collect herself was in order.

In her bedroom, she sighed deeply, head pounding from everything that had occurred that day. She’d abused her body by drinking so much coffee, not getting enough sleep, and running around like a crazy person for days. Numbly, she pulled pajamas out of her dresser, leaving them on her bed and making her way to the shower. Being rained on earlier made her feel sticky and her hair smelled of earth, and a hot shower would be nice to drown her sorrows for a bit.

Steam filled the bathroom as Y/N stripped down, tossing her raggedy clothing into the hamper with a little more force than necessary. She had dealt with many men like Jeongguk before; quick to anger seemingly from nowhere, rude, and reactionary. Normally, she wouldn’t take anything a man like that would say seriously, in fact, she’d often give their acidity right back. Never before had they affected her the way Jeongguk did, every icy word cutting her deep. In a way, it made her want to try harder to prove him wrong, that she simply wanted to share a nice life together, not treat them as pets. It would be hard to do, considering how much he already disliked her and his current situation.

She boiled her skin in the shower, using a calming shampoo to make herself feel better. The water was scalding, but she still felt a cold draft coming through the shower door. Frowning, she turned the water up even higher, promising herself to take a screwdriver to her bathroom window tomorrow and fix the draft problem.

As she rinsed her hair, Y/N’s eyes shot open as she heard a thud from above her, making her frown. Seems Jeongguk was out on his balcony for another smoke break. She felt a touch guilty for buying them for him, considering the intensity of his habit so far, but she was too pissed at him to care enough at that moment.

Turning the shower off after the remainder of the chamomile body wash suds were rinsed from her skin, Y/N wrapped her body in a thick towel, cursing at the frigid temperature of the bathroom. She didn’t remember it being so cold when she had come in to start the shower, and the temperature of the steam should have heated the room significantly. Pulling the towel closer around her body, she could have sworn she could see her breath in front of her, but blew it off as being completely ridiculous and impossible. Moving to the skin vanity, she reached into the mirror cabinet to retrieve her lotion, mumbling under her breath as goosebumps rose on her arms. The room was deathly quiet, not even the crickets outside that usually kept her awake were chirping.

Shutting the mirror cabinet distractedly, Y/N set her lotion down, moving to comb her hair, her eyes catching a shape behind her in the mirror. Looking more closely in the fogged-up mirror, she realized it was her, from her childhood, the old woman. Comb clattering to the floor, Y/N shrieked involuntarily, the ghostly sight of the creepy elderly woman scaring her out of her wits. She hadn’t seen her since she was a girl, and had no idea why she had made her presence known. Shaking, she turned around, feeling sick to her stomach, but all at once the apparition was gone.

Screaming again at the sound of her bathroom door being blasted open, Y/N fell to the floor, clutching her towel so closely to her she thought she’d lose circulation. Seokjin and Taehyung barreled into the room, Seokjin’s eyes blown out in concern as he saw her cowering on the floor. Taehyung’s chest was heaving, head turning in every direction to scope out the bathroom for the source of her fright.

“What happened?! Are you alright?” Seokjin exclaimed with urgency, kneeling down to collect one of her hands quivering on the floor to brace herself. She was absolutely not alright, the old hag who followed her around the yard as a kid was back, this time inside her house. But there was no way to express this to the jaguar hybrid, smoothing a thumb over the back of her hand with a deep crease of worry etched in his brow. To do so would risk him calling her crazy.

Taehyung had made a lap around the bathroom, opening up the closet to the towels to check for any intruders, hands on his hips as he came up with nothing.

“I-I… um,” Y/N stuttered, heart threatening to break free from its cage, “I s-saw a spider, huge one. Crawled into the sink drain,” she lied, hoping her anxiety would cover up the absence of the truth. There was no way she was telling them about the hag just yet, especially since they had barely just arrived. A new anxiety was crawling down her spine: she was simply in a towel, and she tried as best she could to stay covered up in front of the two men in her bathroom.

“A spider?” Seokjin confirmed softly, gently helping her to her feet and never averting her eyes from her face. Nodding, she glanced at Taehyung, who was cocking his head at her inquisitively, eyes on her damp hair. She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.

“Sorry I worried you guys,” Y/N mumbled, feeling humiliated that she was standing like a drowned rat in front of them, lying to their faces. What would she do if they saw the ghost as well?

Seokjin shook his head, guiding her out into her bedroom. To her surprise, the rest of the hybrids, including Jeongguk, were standing in her bedroom, various expressions of concern across their faces. Jeongguk was close to the door with his eyes narrowed at the window looking out to the yard, and upon seeing that Y/N was unharmed, he nodded and disappeared from the room. Feeling more exposed than ever in the damp towel, Y/N wasn’t sure how to usher everybody out as quickly as possible. Clearly, the remaining hybrids needed extra reassurance that she was alright.

“I’m sorry, guys. I’m okay, just got spooked by a spider,” Y/N explained, Jimin brushing a finger over his lip as he considered her excuse. Half of the room seemed not to buy it, Hoseok frowning as he gripped her bedpost, Yoongi’s eyes roaming over her skin. She chalked it up to him checking for injuries, but the weight of his gaze made heat rise up her throat in embarrassment.

“We thought there was someone who broke in, or you fell, so I guess a spider is a lot better than those two fates,” Jimin replied, politely staring at the floor while he spoke. Y/N didn’t think he was used to seeing a woman in such a state of undress, his cheeks pink.

“Come on, everyone, let’s give her some privacy so she can get dressed,” Taehyung suddenly spoke, shocking everyone in the room as he waved his hand to coax everyone out. Y/N didn’t really want to be left alone in the room, but she had to get out of the damp towel before she caught a cold.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seokjin asked her once more, as the others filed out of her room. Y/N could definitely tell he did not buy her spider cover-up, but he was too kind to say otherwise. Placing a hand on his bicep, Y/N gave him her best encouraging smile.

“Yeah, thank you, Seokjin. It’s nice to have people here to check up on me,” she answered truthfully, feeling a whole lot safer now in the home than she ever did as a child with her grandparents. Seokjin smiled at her, telling her to come out and watch TV with them when she was done.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, Y/N shakily got dressed, eager to get out of her bedroom for a bit and be around some living people before bed. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to sleep that night, all she knew is she definitely had to do some protective magic in the days to come. With a house that size, it would take her a long time, but it was worth it if she could banish the spirit that had been bothering her all day. As soon as she pulled her pajama top over her head, she set off to the parlor to the hybrids waiting for her.

Y/N wasn’t sure how she had fallen asleep in her room that night, but thanks to watching several episodes of Twin Peaks late into the night, she had no problem sinking into the mattress and knocking out, regardless of the possibility of a ghost hovering over her while she snored into her pillow. Her alarm shocked her out of her sleep in the morning, her wake-up call to go pick up Namjoon, potentially. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she resolved to tackle all of her obstacles today with positivity.

She hadn’t asked any of the others if they had wanted to join her to the shelter that morning. For some reason, she felt it would be best to attempt to bring Namjoon home by herself, perhaps he was wary of the others, and she needed to stop by the library to speak with her mother afterwards anyways. Before bed, she texted her mother about getting her some of her black salt for the protection magic, to which her mother sent her a vague reply about retrieving some from her while she was at the book club the following morning. To Y/N’s relief, her mother didn’t push the subject of Y/N beginning to pick up her spiritual practices again. Y/N had a suspicion her mother knew a little bit more about her current situation than she was letting on.

Y/N threw on a knitted sweater and an old plaid skirt she had gotten from her cousin, pulling on a thick pair of tights to combat the chill of the morning. She wanted to look more presentable than she had the past few days, hoping it would stave off any more concerned looks from not only her hybrids but also her mother, who would definitely comment on the perpetual nervous smile on her face. She had to get rid of that ghost today.

Turning on the coffee pot in the kitchen, Y/N yawned as she listened for any movement in the house. She couldn’t hear anything, however, it was quite early and they had gone to bed pretty late. Y/N was beginning to think some of the hybrids, like Hoseok and Yoongi, were nocturnal in nature. Filling her to-go container with the hot coffee, Y/N hesitated before pulling out a second cup, filling that one as well. If Namjoon came with her, the least she could do was bring him something to warm his belly. Upon further consideration, she put a couple of protein granola bars and a ripe apple into her bag for him as well. She was crossing all of her fingers that he’d be willing to leave the shelter that morning.

She wrote a little note to the hybrids letting them know her whereabouts and stuck it to the fridge, confident they would be able to scrounge up their own breakfasts especially with Yoongi there. The draftiness of the house made her shiver, pulling a cozy beret over her head as she loitered by the front door. Autumn seemed to be rolling in quicker than normal, and she worried about reinforcing all of the windows and doors in the house before the winter months as she made her way to her car.

The drive into Boston had her squirming in her seat. If Namjoon was anything like Jeongguk, she was in trouble. She’d prefer if he was closer to Taehyung’s version of “strange”, as the other hybrids had coined him, but honestly she didn’t know what to expect at all. The weather that morning was clear of rain, the sky a light gray and the scent of briny ocean on the highway filtered through her windows. It was a lovely day for walking around, no humidity, and pleasantly cool. Getting over the fiasco of last night’s dinner, Y/N resolved to go ahead with her plans to take everyone out for a day in the town, even if that meant leaving Jeongguk at home to smoke himself into oblivion in the backyard. While the rest of them were watching TV after her encounter with the spirit, Jeongguk had spent at least an hour on the grounds, nose buried in his notebook. More than ever, Y/N itched to see what was in that notebook of his.

Traffic was light and Y/N got to the shelter as soon as it opened. Gerry wasn’t there, as she pushed open the glass door; she assumed it was his son, a younger, still gray-looking man in his thirties. Brushing a stray yellow leaf from her sweater, Y/N approached the man counting the register, squinting through the darkness as there was only half of the fluorescent lights turned on in the shop. The man looked up at her when she tapped her fingers on the tin desk, somewhat set at ease she didn’t have to see Gerry’s stupid face for the third morning in a row.

“Are you Y/N? Here to pick up Namjoon?” The man peered at her over his rectangular glasses, closing the register discreetly.

“Yes, sir,” Y/N nodded, surprised that he had referred to Namjoon by name. His nametag read Robert.

“You can go ahead and get him. I think he’s ready to leave now, after I convinced him last night. My old man’s tired of getting snapped at with those teeth of his, and he came down with a cold last night. Wanted him out of here by the time he came back,” Robert explained, handing her the keys to the cells during his speech. Simultaneously enthralled by Robert’s persuasion skills and disgusted with Gerry’s impatience, Y/N started towards the back room without a word.

She fidgeted with her skirt as she went, nervous now that she knew Namjoon had shifted for sure. At last, she might be able to have a two-sided conversation with the wolf hybrid who caught her eye the most that night she discovered all the hybrids. The heavy metal door was left ajar, Y/N shouldering into the room with a huff to steel herself. Immediately, she headed towards the last remaining occupied cell, eager to get a look at Namjoon.

He was seated on the edge of his bed, staring straight at her. And of course, like the others, he was absolutely gorgeous. Eyes warm like a thick amber honey, golden skin beneath his green tee shirt, and shining silvery hair swept off his forehead as if he was running his hands through it all morning. Upon making eye contact with her, his eyes narrowed, full lips pursing as he sucked in his cheeks thoughtfully.

“Good morning,” was all Y/N was able to manage lamely, wrapping her hands around the bars of his cell. He was a large man, even seated, his mass was intimidating– and even shifted, he held all the danger in his eyes of his cautious wolf form. Namjoon stood, walking towards her, his height towering over her as he assessed her attitude, hopefully reading cheerful and friendly from what Y/N was trying to put off.

“You didn’t bring any back-up today? Not even the fox?” Namjoon’s voice was deep, melodic, the authority dripping from his tone enough to make her want to take a step backwards. She refrained from doing so, in order to stand her ground.

“Back-up? No, no one came with me today. We stayed up late watching TV, I wanted everyone to get some proper rest,” Y/N laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. Namjoon didn’t crack, lifting an eyebrow as he appeared to consider her answer.

“Are you ready to come back with me today?” She asked after a few moments, unable to break free from his gaze. Something about his eyes was so familiar, and looking away felt impossible.

“Do I have much of a choice? Robert said they’re going to stop feeding me,” Namjoon grumbled, the ear that had a piece missing fluttering just so. He shifted from one foot to another, eyeing the key ring in her hand. Y/N hastily unlocked his cell door, eager to free him.

“Not that they were feeding you much, anyways, the bastards. One of the others told me you only got ham sandwiches twice a day,” Y/N fumed, pulling his door open with great effort. The iron bars were incredibly rusted and heavy, and Y/N was relieved she never had to set foot in the disgusting shelter again after Namjoon and herself got in the car.

To this, Namjoon didn’t reply. He took a step out into the open room, a little shaky in his stride, like he hadn’t walked on two legs in weeks. It took him a few moments to stretch his legs out, gritting his teeth in annoyance. His incisors were particularly sharp, Y/N noted, and she couldn’t decide if that was cute or concerning.

“Let’s go,” he grunted finally, after reaching the door to the hallway with more stability. She moved before her mind could catch up, following him briskly down the hall. So far, so good.

When they reached the front of the store, Robert caught up with the two of them, giving Namjoon a slight nod. He handed Y/N a thick manila envelope, to which she accepted with puzzlement.

“These are the official adoption papers, I fetched them from the State House myself instead of sending them through the mail. Pleasure doing business with you,” Robert shook her limp hand, Y/N startled by the word “business”. However, she was pleased to have the official documents right away, thoughts turning to the database where she could look up the hybrid’s pasts. Namjoon scoffed from behind her, impatiently tapping his foot.

“Thank you,” Y/N painted a fake smile on her face, finally ridding herself of the forsaken shelter as she led Namjoon out to her Land Cruiser. Namjoon slowly got into the passenger seat, staring at Y/N as she started the engine and straightened out her hat.

“Here, Namjoon, I brought you some coffee. I have some granola bars and an apple in my bag, too, if you’re hungry,” Y/N held out the to-go cup that wasn’t smudged with berry lip gloss, adjusting her rearview mirror with her other hand nervously. Namjoon’s stare was much more unnerving than gentle Jimin’s, whose gaze was soft around the edges, while Namjoon’s was probing and steely.

“Hmm… thanks,” Namjoon muttered, breaking free from eye contact as he accepted the coffee with both hands. Bringing it to his lips, it was Y/N’s turn to stare at him as he took in the street surroundings. Namjoon was truly beautiful– devastatingly so. His hair was like starlight, and his side profile was stunning.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I have to make a short stop before we go home,” Y/N pulled out into the street, navigation to the library playing out in her mind. Traffic was still light for a Monday morning, so she’d get there in no time at all.

“Do whatever you have to do,” Namjoon replied easily, fidgeting in his seat. He opened the glove box, immediately diving into the CDs to Y/N’s great surprise. “Have any tapes?”

“Tapes?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. It was rare to have anyone these days to even know how to operate a tape, but she could have sworn that her dad had left a tape or two in the glovebox. The Land Cruiser did, in fact, have a tape player as well.

“You have a Rolling Stones tape,” Namjoon relayed matter-of-factly, Y/N cringing. The thing probably had hair on it with age. With practiced ease, Namjoon carefully popped the tape into the player and rewound it.

“Wow, I’ve never met someone who knows how to play tapes under the age of 50,” Y/N joked, internally scolding herself as soon as the words left her mouth. She had to remember not everyone was Hoseok.

“I like them, they have a unique sound. You can hear what time does to the tape,” Namjoon said simply, thankfully not taking offense to her joke. Typically, old tapes hiss and fade with age, and she had never considered it as a charm before.

With an elegant index finger, Namjoon pressed play, the tinny sound of the tape pressing through the speakers instantly. Similarly, Namjoon began to relax, sitting back in his seat and taking another sip of his coffee. Unfortunately, Y/N already found it impossible to relax around him.

They enjoyed three songs on the tape until Y/N pulled up by the library, throwing the vehicle in park. She was planning on letting Namjoon stay in the car, but he was checking his surroundings in disbelief, already unbuckling himself to get out.

“I know somebody in here,” Namjoon stated, an interesting edge to his voice. He almost sounded fond. Perhaps Namjoon was a Boston native, but his accent was closer to Jimin’s rather than Yoongi’s. Cocking her head, she hurriedly got out of the car to follow Namjoon rushing into the library. He was pretty fast, all of a sudden, busting through the front doors.

“Crap,” Y/N muttered, losing Namjoon immediately in the labyrinth of the bookshelves. Dreading having to go find someone to call for him over the intercom system, Y/N thought her best bet was seeking out her mother. Trying not to panic, she remembered that her mother had told her to meet her at the reference desk rather than the book club room, before the meet started. That’s where she’d have to go for Namjoon’s bat signal, anyways. Making a wide circle around some hungover-looking college students, Y/N speed walked to the reference desk, spotting her mother’s mustard yellow shawl of the day.

“Mom!” Y/N exclaimed desperately, her mother scanning a returned book and dropping it in surprise.

“Honey! You’re early! Here, I’ve got your salt,” her mother pulled a large mason jar of black salt out of her patchwork satchel, handing it over gingerly. Taking it impatiently, not caring at the moment that a young couple standing by the desk was staring at the two of them with confusion, Y/N tucked it into her bag, crushing one of the granola bars.

“Mom, I need you to call a name over the intercom. The hybrid I picked up this morning disappeared as soon as we got in here,” Y/N breathed, worried sick that Namjoon might already be halfway to Fenway Park.

“Oh, Christ, honey, I can do that. What’s his name?” Her mother grabbed the mic to the system, frowning with worry. Before Y/N could say anything, her mother looked past her, face splitting into utter shock and recognition. Turning urgently, Y/N spotted him just behind her.

“Namjoon? Where have you been?” Her mother gasped, blood draining from Y/N’s face.

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