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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

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Can you write overprotective long hair harry imagine?? Like he always hovers the reader when she is doing something or even nothing. Or when she needs to run errands he always go with even though its not required. And when reader fell sick he is full on mommy daddy mode dom!h vibes

A/N: OOPS I GOT EXCITED AND WENT OVERBOARD WITH IT :D

Harry’s awfully sweet. He’s a literal sweetheart with those marble sepia eyes, hazelnut curls and that big golden kind heart of his's.

But, to people he’s intimidating. From the black loiter of tattoos, a silver of piercing to the corner of his plush bottom lip and those long curls of his's that frays his broad strong shoulders turns everyone too giddy to talk to him and he's okay with that – bunch of loosers anyways whom he doesn’t want to waste his time on chit-chatting.

Then Y/N came into his life and his world flipped upside down, in a beautiful way (where he felt like floating into the crashing waves of crystal sea). It felt like she made him see the world through pink heart-shaped glasses and everyone’s just bursting into rainbows, puffaw! Boom! Their heads blasting with colourful confetti and ribbons.

Even though his slight grouchiness towards people lessened he still doesn’t gives two fucks before punching the shit out of someone if they in any way hurts, be rude and try to take physical and emotional advantage of, Y/N.

His bunny.

He’s too protective of her. And why wouldn’t he? She’s his everything. His little miracle and his hype-person, his lovie.

He’s the softest peach for her. The guy who walks and everyone scrambles away to give him a way, is whipped for his girlfriend.

He’s always having his strong arm looped around her waist when they’re out and walking, going to hold her hands instead if she’s too wiggly, keeping her close to his chest while he holds their coffees and sweets.

Whenever they’re doing grocery he’s always wheeling the cart around how much Y/N insists and pouts, he likes it that way. Hearing her blabber and skim her eyes down the ingredients labelled on the products then tossing it anyway with a shrug – makes him want to smooch her wet in kisses.

If they’re partying out with friends. Which they rarely do, (Y/N sometimes makes fun of them saying they’re getting too domestic day by day) he’s always having her put in his lap, his screwed up expression lazing when the alcohol starts to kick in and he’s just a blubbering mess of nonsense, and a very horn dog with his cock bloating up in his tight skinny jeans.

Not that he doesn’t let her have a breather and enjoy herself. He indeed does, they’ve a healthy relationship where they keep trust and faith in eachother.

But, sometimes he gets super jealous when people steal his little girlfriend away from him and once home he’s cuddling and oodling her, kissing her face all over with loud smacks and not letting her be away from him another second even it’s too bring him water or to get rid of his smelly socks.

Other times. When he’s particularly very jealous. The serious ones where Y/N unintentionally spends a tad more time at some of her classmates to wind up their upcoming project, he’s driving himself to pick her up and knocking at the door harshly and then dragging her out of there not letting her carry her stuff and huffing and puffing while throwing her things in the backseat.

Because Jeremy’s a sore rascal who’s shit at hiding his crush for Y/N and he should know better to whom she belongs. His innocent baby is too naive towards the possible hints and evil intentions of people.

“Oi. What got into you today?” She brushes the loose curl that escaped from his bun and let her fingers slide down his tight set angry jaw staring him a bit concerned upon seeing him this furious and ruffled up from nowhere.

“You’re mine,” Is all he'd respond. Smashing his lips against hers in a an ardent kiss and glide his palm down her ass to squeeze it and bring her closer grinning when she squeals into his mouth giving him a chance to slip his tongue in and kiss her deeper and sloppier.

“You’re a silly geese.” She giggles whisper into the mess of pecks and lock her elbows around his neck to give him an eskimo kiss.

“Watch y’mouth.” He glares her intensely loving the way Y/N gulps timidly bobbing her head.

“You’ll get a spanking today,” He always likes to warn her before hand. He wants her comfortable with him in every case and it’s downgrade monstrous to treat the person you love like a mean bitch out of blue -- so whenever she deserves a punishment he already announces her of it, warming her to the idea and giving her time to back away if she doesn’t want it.

“What did I’do now!” She whines and he nibbles onto his knuckle glancing her way in disbelief other hand on steering wheel, “What did y'do?” He asks her sternly. Spreading his palm over her thigh and squeezing it grimly.

“Did y'even care to look at the time, Y/N?” Oh boy. She’s in real trouble. Her name on his tongue never fails to turn her insides gooey and pause her heartbeat horribly. A red light for her to being bratty before she falls into the deep black dig of trouble.

Reaching home. He’s throwing her on the bed and demanding her to lay still on her tummy while he puts a pillow under her and spanks her bum sore with his rings imprinting her skin pink, though he never forgets to take care of her afterwards – putting a cool cream to soothe the burn and letting her sleep on his chest so she wouldn’t come in contact with the sheets as he kneads her asscheeks with gentle hands.

He could never have his hands to himself when she’s cooking and baking for them. Always, poking and prodding around having her head tucked under his chin, her embraced in his arms from back swaying them along to Hozier while she reads the recipe she wrote on one of the tiles.

“Stop!” She giggles, squirming in his arms when he blows raspberries against the dip of her neck and then creates growly noises biting and lapping into her skin, “You’re gonna burn our lunch!” She pressed her hips against his crotch to push him away and that warmed him more, delving his fingers more into her hips with a throaty groan.

“We could have a takeout.” His breath shuddery against her ear as he tries to pry the spatula away from her and kiss her grumpy whines down when the pots actually got burned, “I’ll wash and scratch them.” He’d assure picking her up and wrapping her legs around his hips and slipping his fingers in her hair to tug them and bring her mouth down against his’s to taste her.

“Wants to fuck you so bad, baby. My cock’s been weepy fo’ hours without your touch.” He groans, taking her hand and sneaking it inside his joggers to make her feel how stiff and erect he’s for her.

“I just gave you a blowie in the morning!”

“Blowie isn’t equivalent to fucking!”

“What y'readin,?” He scoots closer to her end of sofa with a smirk and towers over her trying to take a peek of whatever she’s reading with such intensity and then rake his warm palms up her calves to lay them over his thighs while he snuggles her wrapping a chonky blanket around them.

“Shhh baby girl, just want you to be more comfy.” He mumbles into her hair scratching his short nails against her scalp in soothing motions and watch her melt against his touch, eyes fluttering as she lurks dangerously to the verge of sleep.

“You always do that. Whenever the hot part’s about to come, you make me all sleepy.” She mutters laying her head against his clavicles gazing him up with hazy eyes, sighing in feign disappointment when he grins down at her in quite victory and gives her a sloppy kiss.

“What do y'need erotica fo’ baby? When your man’s the living walking momentum of sex.” He pouts, grazing his teeth down her neck and leaving a fresh hickey at her throat.

“That’s infact not, true. You’re such a cutie!” She beams up at him never failing to give him dancing butterflies in his stomach and he doesn’t admits it but he likes getting treated soft and gentle by his girlfriend.

“Such a shame. My own little love doesn’t find me sexy.” He grumps dramatically making her scramble hesitantly and turn to him in their tight embrace, cradling his face in her cold palms, “No. No. I find you sexy. I just don’t like sexualising you.” If Harry didn’t turn into a puddle before he indeed did now as he melted into her touch and kissed the inside of her hands lovingly.

“You’re sucha sap!” He whispers at her in fake offence and plant his lips against hers, patting her bum to make her hug him more tightly.

On cleaning and laundry day’s. He’s always helping her. As they scrub and mop the floors together, might fuck on them bubbly floors too if Harry’s lusty gaze remains on her spilling tits for too long.

“Thinks your floral bra needs a wash too, moppet.” His gradual attempts to lure her with his fingers stroking her thighs seductively always turns into a win when she nods shyly into his neck and let him have an easy access to her panties.

They’re always having a warm, full of essence bath together cleaning and washing the dirt off eachother after that.

Then sharing a cuppa tea while folding their clothes together on the bed and he’s always trying to tackle her into mattress when she laughs at his terribly folded clothes compared to her neatly binded ones.

“Your sucha menace,” He jests with his nose skewered up while he smacks her ass.

“Talk for yourself, Styles.” She retorts, tangling her knee around his waist and pulling him down into him. Puffing out relaxed breaths upon feeling safe and protected under his weight and Harry always smiles into the crook of her neck when she tries to cuddle him as if she wants to be his skin.

He’s the most daddiest when she’s drunk, sick or stressed.

Never letting her go out of his sight when she’s dancing on the floor with her friends. If some man even tries to approach her and breaths in her direction he’s sprinting towards her and pawing at her hips to situate her closer to him whilst blowing those potential guys off with a monotone expression.

“Harry! Do a lil dancey dance with me!” She giggles, making him sway with her and looking up at him with glassy floaty eyes.

“Bunny. ‘s late, time to go home.” He tells her, pinching her chin to plant his lips against hers and she squirms giving him a timid smile, “Okie. But I’ve to pee.”

“Me too!” Her friends chimes from behind her and Harry rolls his eyes playfully, gesturing all of them to follow him.

“C’mon you spies, not lettin’ ya’ll go alone.”

He waits for them outside the washroom while they do their business and he has his arms always splayed open for when his lovie comes back and he’s welcoming her in his embrace warmly with a sweet smile.

Dying with fond injecting in his every vein when she slurs and blabbers, “Home.”

Walking her up the stairs of their flat’s building is the most hefty struggle while she’s a sleepy, clumsy and giggly muck of doe gleaming eyes and swollen pretty lips drooling over Harry testing his patience while he makes her take one step at a time.

“Darling, bunny, just some mo' steps lovin’.” He coos at her, putting a firm hand under her bum and heaving her up into him so she doesn’t falls.

“Mhmmm you’re so pretty, daddy.” Harry’s head snaps in surprise as he stares down at her in adoring amusement and push her head under his chin while she slings her arms around his waist lazily.

Sometimes, she gets him so flustered he doesn’t know how to respond.

She whines and cries in dishevelment when Harry makes her sit on the cold marble counter and wipes her makeup off.

“I just wan’ to sleep!” She toes at his torso trying to push him away but he grabs it and tuts, glowering at her strictly, “You’re g'na complain in the mornin’. Sleepin’ with makeup makes ye' breakout remember?” When she still huffs and slumps giving him a hard time to clean her he’s pinching her chin and giving her a gentle jerk.

“Bunny. Stop with ye' battiness.” He grunts not letting his facade slip when she mewls stroking her cheek up and down his lightly stubble covered cheek softly.

“Else what? Y'never punish a sleepy bunny.” She smirks at him foppishly and lazily knowing damn well that one of thing Harry doesn’t do’s tease or punish her when she’s tuckered out and on the edge of sleeping on him.

“You don’t test me bratty woman.” She squeals when he takes hold of her panties to pull them down her legs, slapping her mound once discarding it in the hamper and he sighs when she’s already snoring lightly, slobbering his throat with her mouth parted comically.

After pattering her face with loving kisses he’s tucking her under the layers of blankets and letting her use him as her stuffie.

“Aw poor baby.” He mumbles, kissing her forehead when he finds her burning up against him and he’s quickly rummaging for thermometer from the night stand and the tissues he had stashed for emergencies.

“I don’t feel good,” His heart breaks when Y/N croaks out weakly and tries to crawl up his chest to stuff her face in his musky neck but her frail limbs gives out making her cry out.

“It’s okay bunny, ‘s okay. How but I make you some soup. Then y'take your medicines like a good girl of mine, then if your condition gets worse we’ll go to doctor, yeah baby?” He talks to her gently and sweetly, stroking her hair and peppering kisses to her temples.

“Just last bite, moppet.” Harry hovers the spoon infront of her and sighs when she shakes her head pushing his wrist away, “I’ll puke.” She sniffs blowing her nose harshly in the tissue .

“The bin’s right here, bunny.” He smoothens his hand down her spine putting the tray aside carefully to snuggle and comfort her as she cries softly against his chest.

“’M so sorry baby, you’ll be alright in the morning.” He couldn’t see her in such condition. It pulls and tugs at his heart so painfully he feels himself hurting.

“Oi. Why you crying, hmm?” He cups her cheek and makes her look at him as she skims her eyes away from him jn embarrassment.

“I —- You’re so caring and loving, treats me so good and it makes me c.. cr–-,” She hiccups finding it hard to breath and Harry rubs her back, whispering affinities in her ear making her finally sob, “Cry....” He chuckles softly pelting kisses upon kisses on her puffy eyelids, soaky dried up cheeks, her frowned up forehead, her wobbly chin and her nipping love bites down her chest then blowing raspberries at his own slick covering her skin making her giggle through her hiccups.

“I love you.” She whispers droopily, head lulling to his chest when the effect of medicine finally starts to kick in.

“I love you too, I want my healthy and happy bunny back.” He mumbles, inhaling a huge puff of her scent and squishes her lovingly.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry smut #cute harry #harry styles #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

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wrestlingisfake · 2 years ago

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G1 Climax Night 2 preview

I already ran down the tournament format, but briefly: It's four blocks of seven wrestlers apiece, each man wrestles the other six in his block, the four block winners go on to the semifinals.

It looks like the plan is to do four block matches on each show through July 30, then six block matches per show for a while, and then back to four on August 13. The last eight block matches will be on August 16, followed by the semifinals on the 17th and the final on the 18th.

Shingo Takagi vs. Juice Robinson - This is for 2 points in D Block. Takagi currently holds the KOPW 2022 trophy. Juice was the IWGP United States champion until he was stripped of the title last month, but he still has the title belt. This isn't the strongest main event NJPW could deliver, but it is a very fresh matchup. These two have only met in singles action once before, three years ago, in a match Robinson won.

For Shingo this tournament is a big opportunity to prove he's still relevant in the main event picture after losing the world title in January. That title run was kind of thrown together amid a rash of injuries in 2021, so it'd be fair to say Takagi wasn't "supposed" to be at that level. His best path to reject that is to beat ass in 2022. I think Will Ospreay is the favorite to win D Block, but it makes sense for Takagi to be the guy who narrowly pulls ahead of him.

Robinson had been going nowhere until he turned heel and joined Bullet Club a couple of months ago. It's been a much-needed fresh coat of paint for him. Whereas white-meat babyface Juice endlessly lost and vowed to keep trying, craven heel Juice is almost assured to rack up key wins just to sell the heel turn as a big deal. I don't see him winning the block, but a win over a former world champion is very doable, especially if the former world champion is "just" Shingo.

Zack Sabre Jr. vs. KENTA - This is a C Block match for 2 points. Kenta is currently 2-1 against Sabre in the G1, and it looks like he's 3-1 in all-time singles matches. They're both jerks in asshole stables, although Sabre is simply sadistic about technical wrestling, whereas Kenta's offense is built around stalling and cheating. Look for Sabre to play the de facto babyface here. For my money Zack should win here and at least come close to winning his block. But between the two of these guys, New Japan seems more committed to protecting Kenta.

Toru Yano vs. JONAH - You know the drill, 2 points for A Block. Jonah is chonky and mean and Yano is sneaky and clever. If you loved Wardlow vs. Orange Cassidy this week, you'll probably find something you can appreciate here. I believe this is Jonah's first singles match for New Japan that's actually in Japan, so he should probably get a win to establish himself there. But Yano is the blue shell of the G1, and you never know which guys he will cut down to size. I could easily see Yano stealing a pin or securing a count-out victory. This one is too close to call.

Tomohiro Ishii vs. Taichi - It's a B Block match with 2 points on the line. One-on-one, Ishii is 5-1 against Taichi, and he won their last singles encounter way back in 2020. The long-simmering story is that Taichi would half-ass his matches with cheap tactics, but Ishii brought out the best in him and made him want to fight with honor. I'm not sure where that stands now that Taichi is pretty much a babyface, at least with the Japanese crowds. Either way, the match should be good. At some point you'd expect Taichi to get pushed enough that he can regularly beat Ishii, but I don't know if we're there yet. The safe bet is another Ishii win.

Kauzhcika Okada & Hiroshi Tanahashi & Hirooki Goto vs. Tetsuya Naito & SANADA & BUSHI - Once again we're previewing Goto vs. Naito on July 20, but this time Goto has better reinforcements. Okada, Tana, and Sanada all have their next block matches on July 23 and 24. Logically you'd expect Bushi to lose the fall here, since he's not in the tournament.

Jay White & Chase Owens vs. Tama Tonga & Jado - This is a preview of Tama vs. Chase on July 20. Finlay's first block match is also on the 20th, while White isn't up again until the 23rd. I think this is the first Tama's first chance to get his hands on Jay since Jay turned on him back in, like, February. Jado should probably lose for his team here.

Will Ospreay & Jeff Cobb & Great-O-Khan & Aaron Henare vs. EVIL & Yujiro Takahashi & SHO & Dick Togo - You can start to see how the preview matches are a bit janky due to the four-block format. None of these guys are slated to face each other anytime soon. Ospreay's next block match is against Yujiro, but that won't be until July 27. Sho and Togo are the obvious choices to do the job in this one.

Lance Archer & TAKA Michinoku vs. Bad Luck Fale & El Phantasmo - Another preview for Archer vs. Fale on July 20. ELP's next block match isn't until July 24. Taka isn't in the tournament. Taka pretty much has to lose here, unless they want to have Archer and Fale brawl to a no-contest or something.

YOSHI-HASHI & David Finlay vs. Tom Lawlor & Royce Isaacs - This doesn't really preview anything, unless you count Yoshi vs. Finlay, but that's weeks away. Isaacs is on this tour just to be Lawlor's partner in these tag matches, so he's most likely to eat all the losses in their matches.

#njpw #g1 climax

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disneys-fast-play · 3 years ago

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Take one

first homestum wg fanfic, It’s halloween themed, but I think I could post it still.

Under cut cause I’m a fucking coward

“Oh dam, these candies must be great!” C//Z said to B//ub//s.

C//Z had a wizard costume without da beard, and B//ub//s had a pumpkin costume, they went out getting all the candy they can get.

Along side the block, they found a HAUNTED house. “Err, B//ub//s, you sure this is REALLY haunted?” C//Z asked. “Yeah, rest assured, they got some SERIOUS punishments.“ B//ub//s said to C//Z.

”Nah, I’m sure ya lying to me.” C//Z said as he rang the doorbell.

A pumpkin full of, about 20 candies popped up and said, in a horrible painting type voice with it‘s eyes and mouth glowing purple, “Take one, or else!”

C//Z thought this was all a lie. “I can tell this is just special effects, right B//ub//s?” “I’m warning ya, this is NOT a lie, fuckles.” B//ub//s replied.

C//Z took ALL of the candy. “Woah, these would taste VERY dazzlemazin’ when we return!” But the pumpkin started laughing sinisterly, and started flying at some point.

The pumpkin took C//Z’s 20 candies, stuffing him with it. “What is dis!?” C//Z replied. “Told ya.” B//ub//s replied, as he put his hands on C//Z’s slightly growing belly, with a sussy smirk.

“You insane fucker!” C//Z said, as he swatted B//ub//s‘ hands off. A few moments later, it all stopped, with a chonki C//Z.

“Ugh, this is far too UwU, and from what I know, you’ll return to normal in about 20 seconds.” B//ub//s said.

#tito.txt #homestum runner #tw chomnk #stuffing fanfic #tito’s fanfics

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chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years ago

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Fifth Act: Diligence

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him - James 1:12

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, angst, slow-burn, slice of life, comedy

word count: 12.9k (CHONKY BOIII)

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of Fourth Act: Kindness

A/N: when i said it was long, it’s LONG long. WHEW! The second longest chapter in the series so far?? djfksgh Sorry to keep you waiting for so long ;w; I can’t thank you enough for your patience and unwavering love and interest for this series in spite of it! So here we go, FIFTH ACT YALL HHHH I hope you’ll enjoy!!

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose @moments-of-melancholy

You don’t want to admit it.

It’s so cliche.

But you’re not gonna burst out singing Meg’s song from Hercules because you’ve passed that stage at least.

What your problem is is that confessing your feelings has proven to be way easier said than done on a multitude of different levels.

Confessing to someone is already a nerve-wracking thing to begin with — you’re basically laying your heart out to a person hoping that they won’t end up completely crushing it — but furthermore, you don’t even know how to go about doing this. For the past days or so since you’ve resolved yourself to Jaehee that you were going to take that leap of faith, your only means of contact with Jimin has been through texting which was both a blessing and a curse.

You’re not gonna lie and say that you didn’t need to do some psyching up first, some mental pep talk through the assurance that you could still hold a decent conversation with him without getting sweaty palms. Of course, when you did manage to pull enough courage to direct the conversation to that topic (and okay maybe a glass of wine helped too), you were strategically swerved.

If there was one thing you wanted to do when you confessed, it was to do it in person. You feel like this is too big of a deal to do through text even if it would’ve helped you with organizing what you wanted to say better. You wanted to be open with yourself and to Jimin and being face to face was the only sure way to get your sincerity across.

So whenever you ask him if there was any chance he could meet up in person, whether it be at a cafe or even just late at night in your room, he would always excuse himself saying that he couldn’t. The reason always being that he was ‘busy’ or had matters he needed to attend to (his words, not yours). You understood at first, though the times when they happened it had put a damper on your confidence, but it soon became too redundant and you grew agitated, even more so because any attempts at a compromise didn’t work either; Jimin never gives a straight enough answer for it.

But then the chats became sparser, never lasting more than a few short exchanges until they just stop altogether.

And when the texts aren’t being returned, your calls are met in the same manner; your only reply is the sound of the dial tone.

Soon your suspicions morphs into anxieties, and though you attempt to reign in your imagination, the longer you don’t hear from him, the more they become rampant. Your mind begins to dredge up memories of things you’d rather forget, playing them out as if to show you how eerily similar this all is, taunting you, reminding you that the last time this had happened your guardian demon had come back on the brink of death.

You swallow, trying to quell the suffocating feeling that comes up but there’s a pressure on your chest that has your breathing shortened. You’re wringing your hands unconsciously, a small attempt at coping with how on edge you’ve become though it proves to not be as effective as you would have liked. How you found that out was because anything and everything irritated you and it showed.

You hate how it seems like you can’t go for a minute without wanting to snap at the next person who so much as look at you — a really bad thing because you work in an industry that requires you to maintain your cool in literally any situation, even the most absurd ones.

And it’s like today was ‘let’s irritate the hell out of Y/N L/N’ and you didn’t get the memo because the clowns are out in full force.

“Well I don’t want to call the help line, that’s gonna take too long.”

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, deep breaths.

“They’re actually pretty fast with finding your transaction history; the only time it would take a while is if you called during the weekend because their time of operation is shortened.” You explain for what felt like the millionth time.

Yet still, the man in front of you continues to scowl as if this is entire thing was your fault.

“But I’m already here, I don’t want to have to go home and come back because that’s a waste of gas.”

“Sir,” You start again, “I can’t refund this item for you at full price if you don’t have the receipt. As I said, I can still put it on a store credit but I will have to deduct thirty percent because I don’t know if you got this on sale or if you used a coupon — that’s just store policy. Or,” The word comes out firmly, “You can find the exact same item and just do a straight exchange for the better of the two.”

He pauses, as if to think it over and you were foolish enough to think that maybe he finally sees reason, but then he opens his mouth.

“But I want my full refund.”

Holy shit if it were not for the laws of this land….

“Then you’re gonna have to call the help line or go find the exact same item and exchange them.”

You’re done, you’re absolutely done and you swear if this man doesn’t walk away doing any of your suggestions right now, you can’t promise that no ones about to get smacked in the face with your scanner. Thankfully, as if the universe has heard you, he begrudgingly takes the box of outdoor fairy lights (you really want to pull your hair out here) and heads off down an aisle. You actually breathe out a sigh of relief, but there goes what little of your patience you have left.

Now you can only pray that the rest of your shift goes by as quickly and as smoothly as possible.

Obviously that was too much to ask for.

You cash out around five people more before a woman approaches your register, holding a box with a picture of a white Instax Mini Polaroid camera on the front. You’re not sure if it’s your gut instincts or because you’re already so annoyed that immediately, you have a bad feeling about this. Regardless however, you muster all the mental strength you possess to suppress the feeling. Lips pulled taut into a wide smile, you greet the customer with an overcompensating amount of friendliness.

“Hello, how are you?”

“Yeah, I want to change the colour of this polaroid camera.”

You force the smile to remain on your face, “Sure no problem! Which colour would you like instead?”

“The pink one.”

You turn around to scan the rows of polaroid boxes hanging on the pegs behind you, picking out of the three colours available for the pink one the woman wanted. Placing it on the counter beside you, you ask nicely, “Can I see the receipt for the camera that you have and the camera as well please?”

She slides the box over to you and you see the receipt poking out of the slit. You take it out, opening the box to check the camera inside and make sure that everything that came with it was still there. Once you confirm that it is, you close it back up and unfold the receipt to match the barcode number on the box to the one that’s printed. Looking over to the pink coloured one, you confirm that the the item code for the white and pink cameras are different which comes as no surprise for you; in order to do this exchange, you would have to return and repurchase so the inventory count would be correct for the store.

A rather simple and painless concept.

“Why can’t I just take this one and give you this one?” The lady questions, annoyance colouring every one of her words as she gestures between the two cameras.

“I know they’re the same camera but since they’re different colours, they have two unique item numbers that differentiate them from each other to help with our inventory. It would only work if they were the exact same camera.”

“But they are!”

“They’re different in colours.”

“You know I’ve shopped here for a long time and I have never had to do this before.” She scowls at you and you refrain from rolling your eyes because clearly she doesn’t shop here enough to know.

“We’e always had this policy ma’am.” You instead answer plainly, the artificial civility in your demeanour already dissipating. When it’s clear that you weren’t going to budge and give in to her intimidation, she rolls her eyes and pulls out her card to insert into the pin pad. The computer system lets out a beep in error, letting you know that the card she used was not the one she purchased the camera with.

“Is that a debit or a credit card?” You ask despite already knowing.

“It’s a debit.”

 “It has to be on the same card you used to pay for the camera.”

“Why can’t I just use any card?” You can already pick up the growing inflection in her voice; it’s a little louder and more aggressive but at this point you’re at your wits end too.

“For security purposes.” You choose to state simply, tired of explaining when you know it won’t work.

“Well, I don’t have that card on me because I thought this was going to be a simple exchange.” She says accusatorially, like of course all of this is your fault and you’re the one who’s being difficult. You try to take a deep breath in discreetly, jaw clenched until you feel it beginning to ache before you reply back to her.

“I can put it on a store credit and you can just use that amount to pay for the camera again.”

Your answer makes her huff, crossing her arms as she says, “Fine.”

Your finger practically punches in the appropriate operating system for the return method, reaching in a side drawer behind your counter to pull out a black card meant for store credits. There’s a slight tremble in your hand from the sheer effort of holding yourself back, feeling like a coiled snake ready to lash out at the littlest prod that you try to keep hidden by speeding up the process, which almost makes you slam the drawer close with more force than necessary.

You confirm the amount and swipe the card through the machine in one quick motion, carelessly dropping the card onto the counter in front of you as you wait for the printout copy of the transaction to come out.

“You didn’t have to throw the card like that.” The woman’s voice snap, piercing through your tunnel vision, so hyper-focused on just getting the task done that for a good minute you actually don’t know what she’s talking about.

“I didn’t throw the card.” You reply evenly.

“Yes, you did. Just now.” She challenges, gesturing to the card and pinning you with a sharp glare.

“It dropped out of my hand.”

“No, you threw it.”

“I didn’t throw the card, it dropped out of my hand.” You reiterate, biting out the words that at this point, there’s no way she wouldn’t notice your own growing disdain. To your surprise, she doesn’t continue to try and fight you on this (though the crossed look on her face remains) so you take it as a sign to proceed on to completing this transaction.

You think you’re in the clear; after swiping the card through, you hand over her new receipt and the camera she wanted but before you can even think about gritting out a very forced ‘have a nice day’, the woman cuts you off with a terse, “I’m speaking to your management about this. What is your name?”

The shock of her words make you freeze in place, your jaw nearly dropping from speechlessness. She can’t be serious right now….

But as the woman continues to wait, clearly impatient yet stubborn enough to wait for your answer, you realize that yes, she really is threatening to take down your name and report you to management over this petty squabble. Your heart is practically beating in your throat now and you feel your face heating up at how angry you’re getting, so much that for a split second the rash thought of outright refusing her came into mind. You wanted so badly to go through with it, loathed the idea of letting her think she had won when it’s her who was wrong in the first place. However, rationality wins over in the end; as sweet as the instant gratification would be, you think it’s not worth losing your job over.

Also, you just want her gone.

So you find yourself swallowing your pride and begrudgingly, you give her your name. To add insult to injury, she asks for a pen to write it down onto her receipt before she finally turns to walk off.

Great, fantastic, just what you needed; being written up because this stupid, entitled bitch decided to mouth off on you for something you have no control over.

You hate how your heart is still pounding, still trembling from your barely restrained emotions that has your nails digging into your palms. With a shaky exhale in an attempt to shake it off, you radio over to your manager that you would like to take your break now.

Thankfully, you’re given the go ahead and you had never made for the break room faster in your life, brisk pace allowing for no chances of getting stopped by any more annoying customers. Once the door shuts behind you do you finally slump back against it, temples throbbing as you take in deep shuddering breaths.

It takes a feel minutes before you feel calm enough, the overwhelming fire simmering down to a calm you can control.

You may have had to swallow your pride in telling a Karen your name and risk being written up, but you’ll be damned if you let it break you down.

The groan comes out unabashedly when you unceremoniously fling yourself across your bed, finally home after what felt like a ten hour shift. You lay there, eyes shut like you’re trying to trick your body that you’re in the state of sleep just so you can obtain some semblance of energy back — it doesn’t work.

Instinctively, your hand reaches to dig into your sling bag to fish out your phone, muscle memory dictating your actions as your thumb slides your lock pattern open and they’re tapping on the messenger icon before you can even think to stop yourself. The window opens with Jimin’s message thread staring right in your face, mocking in the way it has not changed status at all, frozen in its own time.

You don’t know how many times you’ve seen this screen at this point but it still never fails to stir back up all the negative thoughts and emotions that has been plaguing you so vividly as if it was your first time experiencing it. Your teeth are tugging at your lips again, reading and rereading your own sent messages that have gone unanswered, all asking the same thing;

Are you okay?

Where are you?

The details to the questions are no longer of your concerns because each scenario you conjure in your head was worse than the last that they threaten to drive you mad. You don’t think you can bear the weight on your heart much longer as more and more days pass in living this torturous limbo of not knowing.

All you wanted was just an answer, anything that would let you know that he was out there, alive and well.

That alone was enough for you.

You tear your gaze away from the offending sight, tossing your phone carelessly onto your bed somewhere. You sit back up just in time to hear the front door unlock and open, signalling for Jaehee’s arrival home.

You exit your room to greet her, wanting to take your mind off of things if only for a short while.

“Hey, where’d you run off to all day?” You ask, helping Jaehee with a couple of grocery bags but a quick peek lets you see that there are some that contains other curious things like….is that a plant?

“Hey! Oh, just here and there. Stocked up on some more food stuff but then got really distracted because look at these!”

Jaehee excitedly sets down a reusable bag on the table before reaching inside to pull out its content, which turns out to be a good sized leafy plant sitting in a cute little white ceramic pot. The leaves are wide and arrow-like in shape, marbled beautifully in vibrant greens and yellows — the lightest colour starting from the centre and transitioning much darker — that makes them appear as if they have been painted on. At a quick glance, you would’ve actually believed that the plant is fake if it wasn’t for the specks of dark soil spilling out from the base when Jaehee accidentally tipped it too much while placing it down.

“They’re called Chinese Evergreens. Aren’t they pretty?” Your roommate beams, twisting the plant this way and that. “Now that I got some time to myself, I thought why not finally fulfill my wish in living my life out as a plant mom.”

A loud snort leaves you as you gingerly place the bag of food on the kitchen counter, turning around to see that Jaehee has pulled out yet another leafy looking plant, only the leaves of this one were long and banana shaped, a solid dark, olive green colour and parted slightly at the centre into an almost fan-like shape with seven leaves equal to each side.

“I got this one because I remember growing up, my parents had one, only theirs was way bigger.” Jaehee comments, holding up the plant comfortably in her hands. “I never knew what it was called until the gardener helping me told me it was a Kaffir Lily.”

You blink, a little skeptical at the name because it certainly didn’t resemble the lilies you pictured in your head.

“Lily? So does that mean it’ll flower?”

“Apparently? I was surprised too because I don’t think I’ve ever seen my parents’ plant flower but the gardener say its sporadic and sometimes first blooms don’t happen until two or three years later.” Jaehee regards the plant with a pensive pout and a tilt of her head but then shrugs and happily says, “But judging from the pictures though, they look pretty!”

You hum, choosing to nod along with what Jaehee says before turning back to sort out the food she’s bought. Seeing Jaehee so lively like this makes you glad for her. Ever since quitting her job, it’s like a weight has been lifted and Jaehee isn’t shy about taking full advantage of all the time she has now to do the more simpler things she’s missed out on — like cultivating plants apparently.

Whatever the hobby is, it’s nice to know that at least one of you is thriving.

Over dinner you express as much, which you get a boisterous laugh in response and actually feel sorry when Jaehee asks the same of you but all you can do is tell her that things have been the complete opposite on your end.

Aside from the god awful day at work you had (one which had Jaehee physically reeling and not knowing what to do with herself for a good five minutes; that was pretty funny), you had also told her of your predicament with Jimin. She’s frowning by the time you get out that you haven’t heard from him for days now.

“Every time I ask him to meet up in person, he’s always brushed me off or changes the subject, like he’s avoiding it.” You sigh out heavily, can’t keep how troubled you are from it out of your voice. “Now I don’t even hear from him at all and it’s making me anxious.”

A pause, and once again you’re wringing your fingers as you try to work out any sort of explanation for this. “You don’t think…You don’t think I scared him off do you?”

“No, no I don’t think that’s it.” Jaehee affirms, though the pinch in her brows doesn’t go away. “I mean it would suck if that’s all it takes because damn, I actually had a lot of faith in him but….I don’t know, it doesn’t seem right to me.”

Her words give you more comfort than you had expected, a relief you hadn’t known you needed and you’re all the more grateful for her to anchor you down. After wracking her head a bit more, Jaehee says carefully, “You mentioned how he was leaving soon, did he say anything about when he’s coming back or….?”

“No, he— he didn’t say. Just that it would be soon….” You swallow, feeling your chest clench suddenly. “I mean, he’s been gone before like this — twice actually — but he comes back, he always does…”

Even if it nearly kills him….

You trail off in your ramblings, trying hard not to reveal too much to Jaehee yet you feel like you’re making excuses for yourself because you don’t want to acknowledge the possibility that Jimin would up and leave without telling you. If not to your face then you’d hoped he would have at least the decency to leave you a note. Besides, shouldn’t there be some sort of formal undoing to your contract with him if he’s clear to be a free roaming demon again? It wouldn’t make sense if you’re still tied to each other in some way, or does the contract simply null itself? You refrain from letting out a groan, feeling the frustration and the oncoming headache draining what last bit of energy you have left. Instead, you drag your hands down your face and let out a heavy sigh.

“It only makes me worry because sometimes he’s reckless and does stupid things….”

“Wait, like what kind of ‘stupid things?’” Jaehee suddenly interjects, sitting up a little straighter and sounding a little more concerned. It has you floundering on how to put lightly that it’s in Jimin’s nature (and literally his job) to go out and find people to tempt them into depravity; would be fine and all had he been the only dangerous thing roaming the city but no doubt after that fateful night, there was something else more dangerous out there. Even though Jimin had told you it was one of those rare moments that he ended up so badly injured like that, you’d rather not take any chances or have him test his luck again.

“I don’t know like…things that might get him into unnecessary trouble.” God that does not make it sound any better. Panicked, you hastily add, “Nothing illegal of course! But like he…tends to wander and is a little too impulsive sometimes – do his own thing without thinking it through?” You cringe, bracing for Jaehee to give you shit for liking a guy who now sounds like a drug dealer or something. She gives you a rather perplexed look, a sort of lopsided quirk of her lips but eventually she seems to let it go, wordlessly trusting you and your sense of judgment.

“I’m just asking because….” Jaehee hesitates, then begins chewing on her bottom lip and her nervous tick starts to make you antsy.

“What?” 

“When I met up with him, on the day we talked about quitting my job at the cafe, he also brought up how he’ll be gone for a bit and told me to make sure it doesn’t worry you too much.” She lets out a short, wry chuckle. “Actually said something along the same lines but about you, or as he put lightly, ‘make sure she doesn’t go off and do something she might regret.’”

It takes a second for her words to process, so shocked at hearing about this new tidbit of information. You blink and can’t help the hard frown that takes over your face, “W-Wha— Wait hold on, he told you he was going to be gone for a while too? And he didn’t say where either?”

And what did he mean ‘go off and do something you might regret’??

Jaehee winces slightly at seeing the heightened distress she’s caused but she powers on, firmly believing that you deserve to know as much as you can in regards to someone you deeply cared about.

“Yeah, he only said that much to me so I’m still as lost as you are. But….” She swallows, “Before he left that day, he didn’t look so well…. Like, he might be coming down with something serious.”

Your shoulders tense, heart palpitating as your mind begins to race.

“I’m not saying this to freak you out because it’s just what I saw so you can take it with a grain of salt. I’m just letting you know in case it might shed some light on some things.” Jaehee placates, holding up a hand as if in an attempt to calm you. You try to get a word out, an acknowledgement or anything but your throat suddenly feels too dry and all of your thoughts are spinning with questions that have no answers.

Did he get hurt? If so, how? Or can demons actually become ill, but from what? Is this why he’s not answering your calls or texts? Because he was trying to hide whatever this is? For how long?

“Do you know any of his friends? Someone you can contact to try and get a hold of him for you?” Jaehee’s voice pulls you back out from those depths, only half registering her words.

“I— Uh…No, not real— “ You stop your jumbled stream of thoughts midway when one name does come to mind. “Yeah…. Yeah I know someone.”

You say that, but you hadn’t exactly thought of how you were going to find him, let alone ask him if he could find out where the hell Jimin has disappeared off to.

Hell, you're not even sure if Jungkook's around to help anymore. If you remember correctly, you swear the last time you’ve spoken to him was on that rooftop garden and that felt like ages ago; you haven’t heard so much as a peep from him since.

But you need to try something.

As aloof as he is, Jimin always lingers in some way, like a shadow that’s hidden out sight and after Jaehee’s talk, you're confident that he wouldn’t just leave without telling you first. Clearly, there's something else going on with him and he's not telling you. So it’s with that hope that you find yourself doing things you wouldn’t find yourself doing late into the night at almost two in the morning.

Like google searching how to summon specific demons.

It’s so stupid, you’re well aware. Before, you would be like anyone else when it comes to your opinions on the supernaturals and anything relating to the occult; a skeptic and a very niche hobby one partakes in. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it existing because there was little to no evidence on it (or if there were claims, it would consider to be a reach). Oh how the tables have turned and with this desperate times calls for desperate measures position you’ve found yourself in, now it’s like a whole new world full of possibilities, ripe for your picking.

Perhaps not something you should dive right into the deep end of but what other choices do you have? Besides, you never know if there might actually be something helpful or clues in…..Beginner’s Guide to the Dark Arts and Satanism.

.... Fucking hell, what are you doing?

It’s okay, you reassure yourself, as long as you don’t accidentally end up in the dark webs then you’re good.

You go through a number of different websites, all looking and sounding more like something you would find in a fantasy novel or just plain cult-y. Once or twice you come across ‘summoning rituals’, most of which involve your run of the mill staple requirements: lots of pentagrams, symbols, candles, a skull of an animal or a straight up animal sacrifice, and some fancy incantations that you’re not sure are even legit.

Of the times you do come across specified summoning rituals, they include all of the above in varying methods but one thing that had remained consistent, you noticed, was that you needed a name — a ‘true’ name as they had called it — of the demon you’re trying to summon, like Beelzebub or Lucifer.

It leaves you briefly wondering about your guardian demon’s name, the one he went by rather than the alias he uses. You never realized and the more you mulled over it, you begin to feel immensely guilty.

How must he have felt when you called him by another name that wasn’t his.

You go to sleep that night with a knot in your stomach.

Much of your nights is spent that way; scouring through internet searches hoping to find some sort of lead to go off of but honestly, there’s only so much sifting you can do before everything starts to sound like the ramblings of a fanatic. The only information you had found promising was about the summoning rituals, particularly the ones to summon a specific demon, given if you knew their true names….which is something you don’t possess, either for Jimin’s or Jungkook’s.

It’s a frustrating fact because it’s the last and most crucial thing you needed if you even want to attempt trying. You hate the idea that you’re so close to getting somewhere and it’s just this one thing standing in your way. At this point, you think you might have more luck trying to summon Lucifer himself and asking him where your guardian demon went.

…..

Huh.

Your fingers stop scrolling through your phone — another demonology article you’ve come across that didn’t really have much to do with finding a lost demon but intriguing enough to have you read — the thought pervading in your mind. It should concern you that it stays for as long as it did but the worse part is that the more you thought on it, the more it made sense.

If you can end up with a demon as your traditional guardian angel, then surely you have a chance at getting a hold of his boss, right?

Before you know it, you're flinging the covers off and booting up your laptop again in the quiet darkness of your room, half telling yourself that you won’t go through with this insane plan if you can’t find that one web page that seems the most credible to you. Much to your bemusement, you do, tucked away as a bookmark no less. It comically sticks out in contrast amongst the other more mundane things on the list; cooking recipes, nail art tutorials and then boom: witchcraft, demonology and understanding how you can attract different entities based on the energy you create through the elements.

Well, you think, looks like you’re about to find out whether Hell really is toll free after all.

If someone were to tell you months earlier that you would be spending a weekend shopping around for items to set up a demon summoning ritual you’ll be attempting yourself, you’d probably just let out one long, exasperated groan into oblivion before accepting the predicament, mumbling something along the lines of ‘he’s going to end up killing me first before anything else, and then what?’

Furthermore, you’re not just summoning any demon, you’re going to try to summon Lucifer, essentially the CEO of Hell and you’re about to pull a goddamn Karen — ‘corporate will hear from me!’ — on them because your guardian demon decided to go AWOL on you and you’ve had enough of being left in the dark. When they say you either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain, this wasn’t exactly what you had pictured for yourself.

Ah, truly the things you do for love.

Once you got over that rather ironic analogy (literally stared vacantly into space for a good ten minutes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry), you had searched up all the places within your city that would possibly have the things you were looking for. The site had suggested a variety of them, ranging from apothecaries to antique shops. It took you by surprise when you do actually find two or three of them, not expecting at all for these sort of niche shops to exist in what you had always pictured to be a mostly uptown urban neighbourhood — guess that goes to show how much you go out.

Your plan was to hit up these little shops, buy what you can find there and then whatever you’re missing you would order off from a suggested website. So that’s how you find yourself on a Saturday off, bright and early; a rare sight for all kinds of reasons as normally, you’d be dead to the world until at least after twelve in the afternoon but you had been so restless that even sleep didn’t hold you back.

You’re on a mission.

After painfully following your buggy google map directions, you stumble upon the first stop. It’s a little apothecary shop, tucked away down a small, narrow side street where much of the city’s history is still prevalent in its structures. You can only guess these buildings were built in the early 1900, or even 1800 — the brick-red edifice is well worn and have patches of dense ivy that seems to almost swallow the walls whole. It appears to be tightly packed, the few mom and pop shops that are open on the street level on either side have multiple windows and sometimes iron fenced balconies above them, which you can only guess are the living spaces for the owners. For the most part, it’s quiet, the only other person you’ve seen is a young man who was too engrossed in getting an interesting angle with his camera.

Craning your neck, you take in the the lacquered sign above which reads ’The Soul Apothecary’ in gold script against a dark forest green paint that colours the outer front of the shop. It’s chipped in some places, mainly along the border that surrounds the large panelled window that display numerous of things on a small wooden shelf; crystals that are big and small in varying colours, jars of dried herbs, small potted plants, and wind chimes made of both wood and silver hanging off to the side.

It’s all very quaint and it makes you think that perhaps on some other less tumultuous time in your life, you would actually visit this place again.

Once you had your fill in admiring the exterior, you finally make your way towards the front entrance, passing by the two potted evergreens and pushing the door open to which a little silver bell chimes, signalling your arrival. Immediately, you’re taken by the interior and the smell of burning incense. It’s rustic in nature, the furnishing mostly, if not in all dark wood with the same forest green accents and despite it being a relatively small shop, everything has been designed to effectively maximize the use of space; nothing appeared to be cramped or cluttered at all.

All the walls were occupied from top to bottom with shelves and drawers, packed full of jars containing who knows what with the occasional decorative pieces breaking in between — taxidermy butterflies in frames, diagrams drawn on parchment that has browned with age, and geodes. There’s a single, long wooden table that sits in the middle of the store that holds trays of trinkets that can be worn with a little chalk sign that has an explanation on the purpose of certain items (and a winky face drawn next to a ‘buy one get one free’ advertisement), mini figurines and mortars. Above you, you realize, were dried lavender and roses hanging from a bar secured into the ceiling, their scents still faintly lingering in the air whenever you pass under.

Finally, you come upon the front till and it’s perhaps by far the most eye-catching thing you’ve ever seen. Framed on either ends of the counter were two wooden pillars that taper towards the top to form a narrow pyramid where two wrought iron rods curve outwards, meeting in the middle. Hanging from them were brass scales, varying in lengths and sizes, some of the little weights left forgotten from previous use. It’s here that you also discover the source of the incense, the lotus shaped burner resting off to the side along a call bell.

You’re so caught up in taking everything in that you had failed to notice someone else has entered the room.

“I gather you enjoy my shop?”

The sudden appearance startles you, whipping your head up to come face to face with a chest before quickly shifting your gaze upwards and when you do, you do a double take. The owner of the voice — and as it turns out, the shop — was a shockingly handsome man, his hair a chestnut brown with the tresses sweeping naturally down over his forehead and looks soft to the touch. His face is oval in shape, set upon a strong jaw and brows but paired with warm features; eyes round, tall nose, and a prominent cupid’s bow upon plush lips (though you’re sure not as plush as Jimin’s), you think you can go as far as to say his face was near perfect— the golden ratio as they call it.

He’s dressed in a white tunic shirt, loose and flowing over broad shoulders and simple black trousers, his only other accessories were the long silk scarf draped around his neck, it’s gold intricate floral designs standing out against the black colour and a single dangling silver earring with a nail point at the end of the chain, the shape reminding you of a fang as it twinkles with the slightest tilt of his head.

For a moment, your mouth and brain fail to work coherently, leaving you to gape stupidly like a fish. To be quite honest, you were half expecting a much older gentleman or lady to be the mysterious owner of the shop, a long ingrained stereotype from all the fairy tales you’ve been told as a child but standing in front of you is a man you think no older than twenty-eight. Furthermore….. why does he look so familiar?

You can’t quite place it, like your mind is just on the cusp of figuring out where you’ve seen him before, but then you’re back to drawing a blank once your eyes focus on his features. It’s almost as if you’re being forced to relive a deja vu over and over again. You give up eventually, tired of this mental battle that’s only aggravating you. Besides, you have more pressing matters at hand. Like functioning as a normal human being.

“I— Uh, y-yeah! It’s— It’s a nice place. So...” You gesture your hands uselessly, not really knowing yourself what you mean by it either so you smile back, exhaling a nervous laugh. He lets out a hearty chuckle in response, a hand over his chest as he throws his head back slightly and letting you see his Adam’s apple bob.

“Ah, hearing how speechless you are about my shop is all the compliment I need.” He peers down at you again, soft smile never leaving his face, “Though that can only mean you’ve never visited before?”

You shake your head sheepishly, confirming his assumptions. “No I haven’t, so you’re right about this being my first time.”

He withdraws to his full heigh with a thoughtful hum, nodding his head and clasping his hand behind his back. “I had a feeling since I remember all of my customer’s faces. I guess I should introduce myself then.” With a flourishing bow, he says, “You can call me Sung Jin or Joel, whichever you prefer.”

You nod, smiling widely as you introduce yourself as well. “Y/N.”

“Y/N….” Sung Jin repeats, committing it to memory. His expression dims briefly, a complete one-eighty from his otherwise cheerful demeanour but as quick as it came, it vanished, replaced by his usual benevolent smile again. It has you thinking that maybe you had imagined it. “What can I help you with today?”

Seeing as there were no other customers aside from yourself, Sung Jin sticks by your side, helping you find most of the items you have written down on a list. He’s charming, quite amicable as he enthusiastically tells you about the different plants and minerals you were looking for in great detail, their medicinal properties (or lack thereof) and other trivia facts you hadn’t bothered to look into.

You enjoy it, fascinated by what you’re learning yet you can’t help feeling the irony of it all because what you’re using these things for is far from healing purposes. And evidently, Sung Jin seems to catch on when the items start to become more and more dubious in nature, but in spite of it, he does little to deter you from buying them.

“So….. Atropa Belladonna….” He starts off casually, one dark brow raised and when you give him a puzzled look back, he adds, pointing his chin at the vial of dull purple, bell-shaped flowers and shiny black berries in your little basket. “Commonly known as deadly nightshade — not something people buy often, let alone ask in my shop.”

“O-Oh….” You nervously fidget, eyes darting from the little jar of poison to the jar in your hand (‘chamomile’ the label reads, a subconscious choice that you’d rather not look too much into). “Uh... I just thought...you know, it looked pretty interesting...?” You sound as convincing as a soggy loaf of bread, the grimace on your face not helping at all.

Sung Jin stares at you, eyes boring so intensely into your soul that you felt the need to lean back slightly. It goes on for a long minute until he lets out a loud gasp and he leans in, stage whispering conspiratorially, “You're not trying to summon a ghost or a demon are you?”

“N-NO!” It comes out louder than you had intended, spluttering and choking on air as you say defensively, “I'm not – !! Who would – why would anyone wanna do that?!” The jar still in your hand nearly goes flying from all the frantic waving you're doing. At your strong reaction, the tall brunette bursts out into a guffaw, slapping the tops of his thigh delightedly, laughter pitching and squeaking as if you'd just told him the funniest joke he's ever heard.

“I'm just kidding! Oh man, the look on your face was priceless!”

Again, you're hit with the dizzying sensation of deja vu, so fast that you're left in a daze until you're knocked back by Sung Jin who playfully smacks you on the shoulder.

Geez, is the incense that strong in here? You don't know what's gotten into you.

Once he finally calms, Sung Jin lets out a satisfied sigh, placing his hands on his hips as he regards you again. “Well! If that's all that you're looking for today, I'll be happy to cash you out whenever you're ready.”

“A-Ah...yeah....” You reply weakly, still trying to recover from the cold sweat that he made you break out into. Once you get your bearings again, you shuffle on over to the register counter and by the time Sung Jin bags the last of your things, you'd spent just a little over a hundred dollars. Your wallet is crying but you tell yourself it's all on Jimin's tab that he's wracking up with you.

“Thanks for everything today, Sung Jin. It was really nice meeting you and finding your shop.” You say. The shop owner smiles at you, about to bid you farewell when he catches himself, eyes widening in realization.

“Ah! I almost forgot something!” He whirls around from leaning against the counter to rifle through the drawers behind him, muttering under his breath until he makes a noise that lets you know that he's found what he was looking for. Turning around, he presents to you a stone crystal of sorts, about the size of his palm. At first, you think it's some type of rose quartz, only much paler than what you're used to seeing but as the light catches it, it shimmers iridescently, the vibrant colours sparkling and bouncing against the wooden surface of the counter. “A gift for you.”

“Oh no, I can't possibly...”

“Consider it as a 'thank you' for spending over a hundred dollars.” Sung Jin cuts you off with a tut, gingerly sliding the crystal into the little black pouch and cinching the draw strings together before offering it to you, “Also, it doubles up as a protective charm.”

“Oh really?” You ask, mildly intrigued, tentatively taking the bag and placing it into one of the pockets in your large tote bag.

“Yeah, keeps away all those evil spirits and spooky, scary stuff.” He wiggles his fingers at you, making you snort. Without any more surprises, you gather the brown paper shopping bags in your hands and turn, ready to leave.

“Thanks again, Sung Jin. I hope I can visit sometimes near the future.”

He shoots you a beaming smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle and cheeks full, waving cutely at you. Right before your eyes, he's aged back ten years and the sight makes it all the more difficult not to return his smile.

“Of course, come back soon Y/N. I'll be expecting you.”

His parting words ring out the same time the bell above the door does, making you halt just outside of the shop. You turn to look back as if something is compelling you to do so. It's confusing because you don't have any attachments to this place, having only visited for the first time and yet, you have this strange feeling of not wanting to leave.

The connection is broken just as quickly however, with the shuttering of painted wood, the door closing with a forceful clatter, effectively cutting off the strong earthy smell that had seemed to permeate around you until now. You shake your head, taking a deep inhale of the fresh air in the late afternoon sun. It clears away whatever dreamy haze that remained and with a shrug, you head on home, intent to tackle the rest of your remaining tasks.

Obviously, they would call for a night with a full moon, right on 3AM – the start of the witching hour. That's usually the case with these things right? Aside from this one requirement, everything else had been exceptionally easy to obtain. Your trip to Sung Jin's shop had saved you a lot of time and trouble in finding the things you needed which left only a handful of items that needed to be acquired – most of which you found on Amazon (of all places, but you suppose you really can find anything and everything on Amazon). The only hiccup you had was Jaehee nearly discovering your, as you sardonically call, 'new secret hobby' (boy that would've been a fun conversation to try and weasel your way out of).

So thanks to Amazon Prime, you have your very own demon summoning starter kit ready to go by the time the next full moon appears. And lucky for you, it lands on the day you have a closing shift so after you're done working, you can head right off into doing this – you have your eyes set on a local park just outside of your neighbourhood as the perfect place for it!

Wow, you sound way too excited about trying to summon Lucifer with no prior experience.

But you attribute the morbid exhilaration you're feeling as nerves you would have when you're doing something out of your comfort zone, like skydiving – except this was by far the most unorthodox way of getting high off of an adrenaline rush ever. Either way, you're antsy during the days leading up to it and even more so throughout your shift; you could barely keep still. Once you punch out for the night, you bid a hasty farewell to your co-workers and jet off without a second to waste. You take the bus to your normal route but instead of walking down the street towards your home, you continue on forward for two blocks.

You cross the road, coming up on the park that was like a little island all on its own with a simple playground and a set of swings that has seen better days situated in the centre, bordered by a singular paved path that curved from one end of the park to the other. The three street lamps planted sparely about the area begin to come alive just as the last of the sunset's light fades over the horizon. It casts everything in an umber glow, occasionally flickering sporadically. It's a quiet night, the only sounds are the faint chirping of crickets and passing cars in the busier intersection at the end of the road. There was no other person that occupied the park as far as you can tell, only seeing one or two people out taking a nightly stroll. The weather is especially warm tonight; even with the sun down there is still a blanket of heat that remains in the air, making you think that maybe you might actually get an early summer at this rate.

Your skin feels slightly warm and dewy as you decide to take a seat on the lone bench, finally putting down your tote and the big brown paper shopping bag you've lugged to work and stuffed in your cubby locker. It contains all of the things you need to set up for the summoning ritual but seeing as it's only eleven-thirty, you pull out your headphones to listen to some music while you wait for the appropriate time.

The moon was bright tonight, so clear against the cloudless sky that it almost looks like it was hanging right above you. You fall into a tranquil peace staring at it, the first in what felt like ages that you just bask in it – might as well take advantage of this rare moment before who knows what kind of shit will hit the fan soon.

Unfortunately, it lasts for about a good hour and a half before your nerves rear its ugly head again, suddenly so acutely aware of the time slowly passing. You're no longer satisfied with gazing at the moon, already having given up on trying to see the stars if you stared hard enough (you've never had such luck with that around here anyways). So you try to occupy yourself in other ways, like taking a look around the playground (you foolishly decided to try your hand at going down the twisting red slide which nearly sends you crashing into the sand pit below; that slide should definitely not be that fast) and doing a couple of rounds on the swings (before it let out a loud and concerning creak).

Still, the itch persists, you want to get this over with much like ripping a bandage right off. But magic takes time and precision, there's no cutting corners here, or so you read.

You eventually settle to make your base in the small platform of the play set, anxiously checking and rechecking your bag to see that you have everything. After you painfully drain your phone battery to fifty percent and nearly falling asleep, the clock finally hits 3AM. Now, you're truly deep into the night where the world falls to a hush and knows no better of the deeds that are about to transpire. The perfect cover.

You get to work, climbing down the play set with your bags in tow. Through the tab on your phone, you walk through the steps in setting up the summoning circle, using simple white chalk to draw on the pavement. You sprinkle the area with a crushed mixture of herbs and roots you had bought from Sung Jin's shop in the cardinal directions as instructed and draw a salt ring in the middle, meant to contain and protect you from harm. Finally, you mark the five candles and the inside of your wrists with more symbols in black ink and then take out a safety pin.

This is the one part you hate.

Inhaling deeply, you press the point of the pin against the pad of your thumb, adding pressure until you flinch, feeling the skin pierce and bead of crimson rises from the wound.

“Why do they always gotta involve your blood or any kind of blood....” You mutter, annoyed as you swipe it against the body of each candle, just above the marked symbols. Sticking your thumb in your mouth, you lick away the remaining blood as you arrange the candles to sit at the different points on the summoning circle and with a match stick, you light them all up. When the last of the candle is lit, you flick away the match and get into position, scrolling all the way down on your phone until you reach the incantations.

“Alright, here we fucking go...”

With your palms facing up, you begin to recite the first lines. You try to keep your tone steady and clear, enunciating each word. The further along you go, the easier they flow out like you know them off by heart, shocking you. You don't know if you're just imagining things but it's like something comes over you, a chill that travels down your spine, reaching to your fingertips and makes every nerve endings stand on edge. The sound of your own voice seems so distant to you now, like it's not even yours anymore as you fall into a trance-like state. You fail to notice the breeze that begins to pick up, a static charge in the air as the lamps around you flicker violently and when you utter the name 'Lucifer Morningstar', the candles are blown out.

When you regain your focus, you're slightly out of breath, heart thundering against your chest and in your ears. You glance around your surroundings, cautious and half-expecting to come face-to-face with the devil himself but slowly you realize....

There was nothing.

A whole three-sixty spin confirms it; there wasn't a single thing amiss around you that you're actually left in disbelief. But it's quiet now, too quiet. The crickets have stopped chirping, the street lights have stopped flickering – even the faulty one you saw earlier. So you wait another few minutes for good measures, holding your breath and shoulders tense until a sharp ringing and intense vibration erupts from your hand, causing you to yell out in surprise. Fumbling, you crash onto your knees in an attempt to catch your phone, managing to cushion what would've surely been a screen shattering fall to a short, edge denting clatter. You can't help the pathetic whine that escapes your lips; from being startled, dropping your phone, the ache in your knees, and the fact that the ritual most likely didn't work.

Shaking away the jitters, you blink, momentarily blinded by the light of your phone as it shows you the identity of the caller. You pick up after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“GIRL! WHERE ARE YOU!?” Jaehee's voice screeches through. You pull away, wincing and even from a distance, she speaks as if she's right beside you. “IT'S ALMOST FOUR IN THE MORNING AND IT'S BEEN TWO HOURS SINCE I GOT HOME! TWO HOURS!! AND NO TEXT OR CALL OR ANYTHING?! I THOUGHT YOU GOT KIDNAPPED!”

You sigh, guilt washing over you as you can hear how palpable her worry is. It'd completely slipped your mind to text her that you would be home late. You drag a hand down your face, feeling drained as your night's escapades start to catch up to you and answer Jaehee less she was going to pop a blood vessel.

“Y-Yeah sorry, sorry. I forgot I had to go somewhere and sort of lost track of time, also didn't help that I missed the last bus to get home so...”

“Do you need me to send an Uber? Where did you go? Are you far?”

“No, no it's okay Jaehee, I'll be home in a few minutes don't worry.” You reassure. You end the call after convincing Jaehee that you're absolutely fine and not being held at gunpoint. Looking down at the mess you've made, you can't help the small chortle as it dawns on you that this is definitely not something you should leave behind any evidence of – you don't think families or the elderly would appreciate finding out that there's been some occult funny business going on right outside their homes.

Whoops.

You gather the candles once the wax has dried, stuffing them back into the brown paper bag along with the little jars and vials you used. You sweep away the salt and remnants of the herbs as best you can, pushing them into the grass inconspicuously. For the ink staining your wrists, you wet your fingers with your tongue and rub until all that's left is a blotchy mess. Now all that remains was the chalk drawing of the summoning circle. At first you tried scuffing as much of it with the soles of your shoes but all that does was slightly smudge it, the markings still clear as day.

“Uhhh.....” You flounder, not knowing what to do with your hands before you give your bag a thorough rifle and triumphantly pull out an old water bottle still half full. This will do. You empty it over the drawing, making sure to try and get as much of it as you can. Thankfully, it dissolves without much resistance and you chuck the plastic bottle into the trash can. Sure there might be a few marks left over but it was hardly discernible and honestly, you can't be bothered with any more efforts. You're tired and you just want to go to sleep.

So you head on home without so much as another thought on your mind, oblivious to the ghostly white wisps of smoke trailing after you.

Jaehee was on you the moment you stepped through the door, already interrogating you and going as far as to ask if it had anything to do with trying to find Jimin. You should've figured she would assume that, knowing how troubled you were about his absence. At least because of that, she was somewhat more understanding but had made you promise you would let her know if you were going to be out past 2AM.

“I know how worried you are about him, but I don't want you going out and endangering yourself trying to find him like that. You shouldn't have to get hurt because of some bad decisions he chose to make.”

You really wished it was that simple.

So you placate her by saying that you had tried to meet with a friend of Jimin's only to be stood up at the last minute, completely not his fault. She let you go then, still miffed but otherwise glad that you're safe otherwise. You fall into a deep sleep that night the moment your head touches the pillow, exhausted.

It'd been the longest sleep you've ever had. You wake up groggy as all hell but with a new weight on your chest.

Your only lead in finding your guardian demon didn't work and the blow hits harder than you want to admit. It continues to follow you the days going forward, plaguing your mind with one question; where do you go from here?

Should you try other methods to summon a demon? Are there other methods? If so, then what? Try to find a local witch? It eats away at you and you swear you would've fallen into a manic obsession if it weren't for your friends. Like a saving grace, you get a text for an invitation to hang out on the preface that it's been a while and truthfully, it has. The last time you all had the time to gather together was before the BTS concert. At first you had wanted to decline, thinking you're not in the right state of mind to enjoy hanging out leisurely but you second guess yourself; maybe you do need a distraction, something to help clear your mind from this dark void that's taken over your life so that you can regroup and figure out what's your next best course of action.

The final push was Jaehee who practically forces you to go out at this golden opportunity, rightfully concerned about the haggard look you're starting to take on. So you pull yourself together, slap on some makeup to not look as dead on the outside as you feel on the inside, and take your ass out of the house.

It was no less a struggle, feeling as if you had to drag your feet every step of the way to the meeting spot you all agreed to. Doesn't help that the weather today was muggier than usual despite the sky being overcast, the sun constantly peeking in and out from behind the thick clouds that drift by. You don't remember it calling for rain today so you keep your fingers crossed, not liking the way some of the clouds appear darker than the others and you not bothering to bring an umbrella.

Thankfully when you reached the subway station, you're greeted by two of your friends who are already there, their cheerfulness lifting your spirits slightly.

“Y/N!!” Rosa squeals delightedly, coming to embrace you with a big hug. You let out a small 'oof' at her enthusiasm but bring your arms up to squeeze her back too.

“Hey, oh man it feels like forever since we've seen each other.” You part from Rosa to give your other friend a hug.

“Right? Oh my god...when was it? Like, before the concert?” Mei points out. “What's even sadder is that we always talked about meeting up and doing something but just...never did, for like weeks.”

Rosa laughs, “That's basically what being an adult is.”

You continue to chat idly, waiting for the rest of your other friends to show and when they do, you head on over to your favourite cafe as your first pit stop. You catch up with everyone and mainly talk about what you were all up to, which you can't exactly disclose in too much detail beyond 'working and sleeping'. It leaves much to be desired for an engaging conversation and you find yourself struggling for the first time with this disconnect, made more obvious when your friends mention any latest BTS content they've seen.

“You haven't seen this yet?!” Jess exclaims to you. She flashes you a high-definition picture no doubt taken by a fan site of Jimin on her phone, probably in the midst of their EU leg of the tour. He looks like a literal angel, dressed in all white with arms outstretched in a way that any second, you would think wings would appear, the glare of the spotlight illuminating behind him as he gazes out into the sea of purple twinkling lights. It's a breathtaking photo but right now, it's so bittersweet to be looking at him like this. Your heart clenches painfully in your chest, the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. It suddenly feels like you're living in a dream and the person you're trying to chase is nothing but a phantom, their face slowly fading from your memories and you're desperately trying to hold on.

You swallow, the tightness in your throat becoming uncomfortable as you force an apologetic smile on your face, straining. “I really didn't have time to catch up on anything lately.”

You follow your friends from one place to another afterwards, complacent in their decisions and growing more and more despondent in your responses. Whatever energy you had before to try and maintain a farce is long gone now and it doesn't go unnoticed by your group.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Sonya asks gently, falling back to where you're hanging near the front of a cute stationary shop you all decided to randomly stop by. You go to open your mouth, ready to deny but then stop yourself, seeing no use in it. So all that comes out is a defeated sigh that has your shoulders slumping.

“Sorry, I don't know, I felt fine when I left home but I guess not...”

“Did you want to maybe get some water? I have Advil in my bag if you want. Or if you want we can walk you back home?” Sonya suggests helpfully. You give her a weak smile, declining with a wave of your hand.

“No, it's okay. Maybe if I rest a little....”

“You don't have to force yourself if you're not feeling it. If you feel like you wanna go home then we don't mind.”

You still feel guilty even though you know Sonya means everything that she says. The guilt only intensifies when the rest of your friends gather from browsing or buying something, immediately worried once they've caught on the rather serious air surrounding you and Sonya. In the end, you had decided maybe it was better to call it quits here, not wanting to trouble or ruin what was supposed to be a fun outing between friends because you're getting too much in your head. After apologizing for having to leave early and fight off their insistence on walking you back to the subway station, you part ways.

You've ended up in the deeper parts of the city, so it would take about six stops for you to get to the station nearest to your place. First though, you had a bit of a walk, either to get back to the station you exited from or the next stop over three blocks up the street, usually something you wouldn't mind if not for the looming dark clouds above you that had taken over the sky completely, plunging the world around you in a deep gloom. With no sun in sight, it makes the summer solstice 6PM look like it's winter's.

You go at a brisk pace, choosing to go back the way you came since you're more familiar with that route. The wind begins to pick up, a sure sign of the coming storm and you dread being caught out at this rate. Up ahead is a stoplight, the one where you're supposed to cross the street at but you're tempted to just cut across the road now, wanting to save time. The traffic here isn't busy with hardly any cars passing through so once you see that it's a red light on both sides, you make a run for it.

You're just about halfway to the other side when you feel the toe of your shoes catching on the asphalt and you're suddenly stumbling forward with your momentum. You're bracing for the fall but before you could let out a gasp, a strange sensation passes over you, like being suspended in midair. It goes by so quickly that you don't have the time to register the impact it makes because a split second later, a black sedan barrels past you, honking loudly as it goes and so closely you think it would've grazed your nose.

Body rigid, you're frozen from the shock, heart pounding loudly and with a mind now kicked into flight or fight mode, you sprint the rest of the way on shaky, clumsy limbs. You nearly collapse once you've reached the safety of the other side, taking deep breaths to calm yourself and the adrenaline running through you.

Either you should've looked both ways more carefully or that asshole just blew through a red light going a hundred kilometres on an eighty speed limit.

You're gonna go with the asshole because you swear the lights were red. You made sure of it.

Straightening yourself, you hoist your tote bag up your shoulders again and continue to make your way down the street. By then, it has begun drizzling, the droplets falling so erratically and lightly that they get carried by the wind. It makes it hard to avoid and only serves to further irritate you. It's a straight walk from here, you don't think you have to worry about nearly dying again so you keep your head down, one hand raised in an attempt to shield yourself from the spattering rain. You turn the corner at the end of the block, peering up to see the tall station street sign looming ahead and you've never been more relieved, powering on to reach it if only to escape the steadily increasing downpour.

So caught up in closing the last bit of distance, you're jerked out of your focus when there was a loud shout of alarm.

“HEY WATCH IT!”

Instinctively, your steps slow, body turning towards the noise in trying to find the owner of the voice. Your eyes whip to see a few people huddling under an overhang to a high-rise building you passed but what's more concerning is where their gaze is focused – widen in fear, their necks craning up, and some even rushing towards your direction, waving frantically to get your attention. It's when you follow their line of sight do you understand why.

Three stories high you spot the outlines of glass panels that line the edges of the balcony, only to your horror, many of them were teetering precariously off of their hinges with no hopes of hanging on because seconds later, their weight gives way and two of them begin to free fall.

Right above you.

You hear rather than see the first one crashing onto the pavement mere inches behind you, the sound much like that of rolling thunder that you can easily mistaken it as part of the stormy weather. You think you feel the pinpricks of glass shards spraying up to scratch your legs but all you can think is where was the second panel? You feel like you can't move your legs fast enough, so frazzled with your mind racing to barely process what is happening and eyes searching wildly but seeing nothing as if you've been blinded.

A chill runs through you then, an icy cold grip that holds you hostage and you wonder idly if this is how you're really going to die. A poor, unfortunate girl who met her demise because of some rotten luck and a freak accident.

And there it was again, that weightless feeling surrounding you, except now there's a distinct tugging as you feel yourself being pulled backwards. All at once, a flash of light goes off right in front of you, shimmering so brilliantly in an arc shape that it has you shutting your eyes, hands thrown up in protection and a gust of air whistles past your ears along with another resounding crash. It's so strong you momentarily feel the rain stop falling around you and you trip backwards, landing on your behind in a crumpled mess.

When you finally open your eyes, you're staring at a pile of frosted glass right where you had been standing, the glittering shards curving outward as if something had forced it away. You can't stop the tremors that shake through your body, breath coming out in short gasps.

What was that just now? There's no way that couldn't have hit you, you practically had a target marker right over your head for it.

Your head is spinning, barely hearing how a small crowd begins to gather around you, some approaching you while there are others who are on their phones, no doubt calling the fire department to report the incident. You're helped to your feet, are asked if you're injured and if you needed medical help, all of which you answer no thoughtlessly. You're more concerned with something else.

There's something else at work here; the first time you would've brushed it off as a trick of your mind but this time, it's just too coincidental. You swivel your head around, not even sure what you're looking for but you can't stop the traitorous surge in hope within you.

You nearly miss it.

Through the dispersing crowd you see two shadowy figures, concealed in the depths of an alley, so well hidden thanks to the darkness of the looming clouds and the still cascading rain. You stare with baited breath, watching the scene unfold as one of the figure grips the other in their hand, raising them until their feet dangled off the ground. They struggle uselessly and claw at the strong hold to no avail. Then, with an inhumane strength, they are slammed into the wall as if they were a rag doll. But to your shock, the crumpled body dissolves in a flurry of ashes and smoke, a few flickers of orange light seeping through before disappearing like dying embers on coal. You dare not take your eyes away, much less blink in fear of it being merely an illusion.

Yet the image before you doesn't fade, even though it seems like you're the only one who can see it. You watch the way the now lone figure struggles to remain upright, a hand reaching up to grasp at their head as if suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. It's then you realize they had been wearing a hood because the dark fabric falls away then, revealing to you a pale face you had not seen in so long.

“Jimin....” His name falls from your trembling lips in a mere whisper before you can stop yourself, breath caught in your throat and as if he had heard you, his gaze whips to your direction.

Your eyes lock on the familiar glow of crimson. Your heart lurches.

And then he takes off.

Panicked, you scramble to push past the few lingering bodies out of your way, feet kicking into a dead sprint, eyes never leaving his retreating back. You rush into the alley without a second thought, weaving and dodging the waste, dumpsters and other things that were lost and abandoned there. You're panting in your efforts to keep up, barely having time to call out to him but try as you might, you cannot hope to catch up to someone who's abilities far outweighs your own and after minutes of winding and sharp turns, you lose sight of him.

You come to a halt, lungs burning from exertion as your eyes dart this way and that but come up empty in what you're looking for. You curse loudly, distress taking over as you grab a fistful of your own hair. After the adrenaline begins to die down, you begin to take in your surroundings. So caught up in your pursuit of him, you failed to notice the unfamiliar streets you've ended up on. You don't know how far you've strayed, can't tell whether going up or down would be the best option in finding your way back but above all, you can't believe you let him slip from your grasp like that.

“Fuck....!” You hiss again, hands balling themselves into fists. The boiling anger makes you tremble more than the cold rain that begins to soak into you; anger at yourself for being so helpless, anger at Jimin for how distant he's become with no explanation. Were you not worth telling anything important to? The thought quells the anger to a hurt and the realization that your fears are more than likely to be true. Yet still, you don't want to confirm them, stubborn to deny it until you get answers – you needed proof. And the only way you're going to get that is to get to the bottom of it, no matter what. With nothing more to gain standing there, you reluctantly turn back to the way you came, mind frayed at the seams from all that has happened.

You don't make it two steps before someone grabs you and your screams are smothered by a hand.

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callingthemuses · 4 years ago

Text

On the edge of the Glory.

Summary: Jackie and V have 3 and a half hours of waiting to do before T-Bug can break through the ICE of Konpeki Plaza. They have to do something to fill the time, and the pair discovers some sticky emotions..

Rating: PG13

Pairing: Jackie x V

Short one shot. SPOILER FREE.

(I tried to make this vague enough so everyone’s V could fit into this scenario but it still be meaningful. Let me know how I did~ Read more added since this is a bit of a chonky post)

‘ I’m on the edge with you ’

Jackie was never good at waiting games.

V watches as he paces back and forth in front of the windows. Occasionally he’d rub the nape of his neck, or run his hands down the front of his suit. They couldn’t blame him for being this antsy of course. The job Evelyn gave them was HUGE. Stealing from Yorinobu Arasaka himself.. this was way beyond what they had been contracted to do before. And despite the assurance that, with all their prep, this heist would be a snap, so much shit could go ass up.

And if it did, they would be so fucked.

Jackie’s nerves were beginning to rub off on V as he continues to pace. They’d have to calm him down, things would definitely go to shit if they were both crawling up the walls.

“Jack, c’mon have a seat before you bust a circuit,” V’s playful tone seemed to snap Jackie out of his thoughts and he looks over. It was like the man had almost forgotten his partner was there. V pats the area beside them on the couch with a grin. The man laughs a little as he parks it, “Sorry. Just... thinkin’ y’know.”

“I know.”

“If we pull this off ..so much is going to change. Been turning things over in my head..”

“WHEN we pull this off you mean. Gotta keep clear of those negative energy fields Misty talks about right?” V says and leans back on the couch. Normally the mention of Misty brings a little sheepish smile to Jackie’s face, but not this time. Instead he just nods his head, “Right.” V decides to let that go, no picking at seemingly sore subjects. Not right now. Instead the subject was changed; what was the wildest job that Jackie had before they met. V bets that they had more outlandish stories than Jackie did. At the challenge Jackie’s eyes lit up, he took the bait and started on a story that he swears up and down is completely true. When he finished V scoffs and starts on their own story, making it bigger and more impossible than Jackie’s.

The duo carries on like this for almost an hour. Sharing stories from their pasts, laughing at the stupid shit, calling bullshit on one another, and teasing each other mercilessly. At one point they even joke about a drinking contest with the fancy drink selection in the suit and T-Bug has to cut in to tell them off. They just giggle like little kids being caught red-handed by their mom.

During a particularly involved story from Jackie, V can’t help but realize how close they had gotten to one another. Jackie had one arm slung over the back of the couch behind V, leaning in closer as he rattles on about “This one time”, free hand gesturing to emphasize the story. He was smiling, eyes on V’s face, their knees were practically touching as they were turned toward one another. Jackie looked so happy and at ease, like he was truly comfortable in this moment, and V’s breath caught in their throat.

Jackie was their best friend, and being in each other’s space like this wasn’t something new, but for some reason it felt.. different. Not uncomfortable, far from it. Maybe it was V’s own mildly rattled nerves, maybe their Kiroshi’s picked up every little detail they missed before.. Or maybe without the backdrop of noisy city streets, gunfire or loud crowded bars they could focus more on the closeness.. The feeling was something V couldn’t put their finger on, or, more accurately, it was a feeling they shouldn’t be having. Not with Jackie. Still V’s stomach was fluttering, and their eyes drifted to Jackie’s lips...

“Hey, V? You OK choom?” it was Jackie’s turn to snap V out of their thoughts. His eyes were concerned, the hand he had been gesturing with was resting gently on V’s arm. V didn’t know what to say, they were normally quick on their feet but not this time. What did you tell your best friend who caught you looking starry eyed at their lips? Fuck. V couldn’t think properly, all they could focus on was the closeness, the fact they could feel Jackie’s warmth, and smell his cologne.. It was pulling them in.

Instead of speaking, V closes the small distance between them, their hand resting feather light on Jackie’s chest, and their lips ghost over his. They could hear and feel Jackie inhale sharply, his body tensed up. He could shove them away if he wanted, they expected that’s what would happen. But it didn’t, in fact nothing happened for a few moments. A shaky laugh escapes V as they start to pull back, but before they could get too far the hand on the back of the couch moves to cradle the nape of their neck and pulls them back in.

When their lips met the kiss was soft, warm. It lasted for only a few moments, but it made V’s head swim. They cup Jackie’s jaw in their palms as another soft kiss came, and then another. With each kiss it became harder and harder to focus. Harder for them to pull apart. The hand on V’s arm moved to their lower back, pulling them closer. “Jackie..” V barely has time to say the man’s name before another kiss, and this one was deeper, more desperate. Everything outside the room ceased to exist. Night City was a blur in the background, the heist they were waiting to perform no longer registered. There was only insistent mouths and parting lips, fingers curling in hair and palms running over chests and down spines. The only thing that existed to the pair was the other. And what bliss it was.....

But then Jackie pulled away.

“Wait.. V..” his voice was hoarse, strained. His expression was like a bucket of cold water, sobering V up in a matter of seconds. Jackie’s brows were furrowed, and there was a mix of emotions in his eyes. Desire, fear, happiness, guilt...There was an inner battle going on in the man’s mind and V knew that they were a part of it. Jackie didn’t have to say it for V to know who Jackie was thinking of.

“Misty,” The merc said the woman’s name feeling their own spark of guilt. The woman had been nothing but an angel, and here V was kissing her man. What a fucking mess they stepped in. V laughs, but it was a weak, watery laugh as they tapped Jackie’s chest with a fist, “ Hey, don’t.. don’t worry about it Choom. Just Gig nerves. We can pretend like it didn’t happen.. It doesn’t have to mean anything.” But it had meant something, to V anyway,

“What? No V that’s not what I meant,” Jackie’s touch was more hesitant this time as he put a hand on their shoulder. “I care about you. I care about you a lot. I didn’t kiss you cause of some damn nerves. It’s just..” He took a breath to gather his thoughts, “I don’t wanna do anything behind Misty’s back. I don’t want to be that kinda guy. After we pull this heist off, we’ll sit down and talk. All of us... if you want to that is..?”

V can’t help but smile a little. Jackie was a rare breed of man in Night City. “Yeah, Yeah OK let’s do that,” they agree and Jackie seems relieved to hear it. He slaps them gently on the back as he stands up and goes back to the window. When this was all over they could talk, talk with Misty.. do this relationship thing right.

After the heist maybe they could finally be together... If they pulled it off.

FIN

#v cyberpunk #jackie welles #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #fanfic #v x jackie #cyberpunk fanfic #fanfiction #nondescript v #female v #male v #cp77 #cyberpunk #cp 2077 #cp2077 #nonbinary v

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willow-salix · 4 years ago

Text

Fluffember prompt: Jacket (hoodie)

Day 21 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

"What the hell kind of noise was that?"

"I sneezed."

"That was NOT a sneeze," Alan argued, looking at me warily, like he expected me to explode again any second and take them all out with me. I glared at him, because how dare? I was the sick one and he was treating me like I was doing it to spite him.

"Be nice to her," John sighed, but his tone said he was barely listening and was pretty much done with all of us now.

I was camped out on the couch, where I'd been for much of the day. I'd gone past the point of having a head that felt like a steel band was rehearsing in there and had downgraded it to little demons with pitchforks that jabbed me whenever I coughed, sneezed or moved my head quickly. It was more bearable and wasn't as affected by sound levels made worse by noisy brothers.

I looked like crap, I knew that, my hair was scraped up on top of my head in a loose bun, I was wearing the shirt that John hates (but it was hidden by a blanket so his eyes were safe), soft leggings and the fluffiest socks imaginable. I wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants any time soon but at least I was comfortable. And I was still cold.

I know, I know, I could just go and put a jumper on or something, but that wouldn't work. Because I was in that awkward stage where I was too hot with a thick jumper on, but too cold without it. The blanket helped but it still wasn't right. And I was getting rather fed up.

Gordon, sweet boy that he is, handed me a mug of his famous tea (which is a lot more useful than his equally as famous squid sense right now) and immediately went into lecture mode.

"Have you let Virgil check your temperature lately?"

"Yes," I sighed and he lifted an eyebrow, clearly not believing me.

"She has," John confirmed. "And she's taken those vitamins. She's behaving."

"Makes a change from last time."

"Hey! No picking on me," I croaked, pausing to have a coughing fit. "Last time I was a strong, independent woman and now…" I paused, not sure how to finish that sentence without making myself sound bad or proving his point. I rephrased. "Look, last time I was used to doing everything for myself and not relying on anyone, now I've learnt to accept a little help now and then."

"You mean you were awkward, argumentative, you bit me and we had to resort to underhanded tactics?" Virgil joined in, earning himself a glare.

"Anything sounds bad when you say it like that," I grumped, lifting John's arm to snuggle under. "I said I was sorry for biting you but you were trying to do medical things to me and you know I don't work that way."

"Let me see your throat," Gordon asked, ignoring the ranting going on. I dutifully tipped my head back and opened my mouth.

"Not as bad as it was," Gordon admitted, after shining a light inside. "Close."

I closed my mouth and straightened my head so he could feel the glands in my neck.

"See, in being an adult and allowing myself to be looked at," I said, turning my head slightly to stick my tongue out at Virgil.

"Oh yes, you're a very mature adult," Virgil drawled. John sniggered but hid it with a cough that I knew was faked but I couldn't be bothered to argue about.

"Glands have gone down, she's definitely on the mend," Gordon told John, completely ignoring me. "Did she sleep OK?"

"I am here you know, I can answer questions." Again I was ignored. "You don't have to fuss over me, I can look after myself."

"EOS said she was very restless and woke up a number of times."

"I could have told you that," I said. "Since I was the one not sleeping."

"Did she drink much during the night?"

"They aren't listening to me, are they?" I asked Alan.

"They never do. Try being the youngest with four big brothers and a grandma. I've found it's best to just let them do their thing and just ignore them," he shrugged and offered me his spare controller. "Wanna play?"

I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer, baby bean, but I'm crap at it most days and this is not most days, plus I think the screen would make my headache worse."

Alan nodded his agreement, seeing the wiseness in my answer and went back to his game.

"I've been doing some research," a voice piped up from the portable comm on Jeff's desk.

"You have, EOS? What about?" John asked, pulled from his conversation with Gordon about my apparently fragile physical health.

"Cold remedies," she answered proudly.

"Cold remedies?" I asked dubiously. "Thank you, but I don't think I need-"

"Some of them seem to have no basis in scientific fact and so I cannot vouch for their effectiveness, but I do believe that some may help," she continued, completely ignoring the fact that I had been talking.

"Per my research I have disregarded some ideas and made plans to implement others."

"John?" I whispered, looking up at him.

"Hm?"

"Are we sure she's not still evil and trying to kill me off?"

"Well, nothing in life is a hundred percent certain," he mused. I sat up a little and tried to shift away but his arm tightened around my waist and dragged me back. "I'll make sure she doesn't try to kill you, OK?"

"Promise? Death by AI might be cheaper than a divorce."

"Tempting as that sounds, I promise."

I narrowed my eyes at him but stayed put, he was comfy and smelt nice but the second Scott got back I'd be swapping, Scott would never treat me this way.

"One of the remedies involves a drink called Gogol Mogol," EOS announced.

"That doesn't sound good," I muttered under my breath.

"What's that? It sounds vaguely Russian," John asked, already interested. Damn him and his desire to allow her to continue to grow and think for herself. He encourages her far too much.

"It is, it originates from both Russia and the Ukraine, you whisk together warm milk, honey, sugar-"

"That doesn't sound too bad so far," Gordon said, sounding surprised.

"Butter and egg yolk," EOS continued.

"Nope! I'm out, I don't do egg in drinks, it's just weird. And butter should be on bread, not in a drink."

"So you don't like eggnog?" Virgil asked.

"Eww, no, I'm English, we don't do that sort of thing." Yes, I admit, I said 'that sort of thing' like it was something disgusting and inappropriate, which to me it was.

"You never know, if this lockdown continues we might actually get a peaceful Christmas at home this year, then Dad can make his famous eggnog, the one that we all have to drink Christmas eve…" Virgil grinned evilly.

"Why are you picking on me today, Chonky? You're supposed to be the nice one."

Virgil batted his eyelashes innocently in my direction, but I wasn't fooled, I knew the truth.

"If you do not like that remedy there is also the one with the dirty socks."

"Erm, the what now?" Virgil was let off with a warning as I became instantly distracted. "I refuse to have dirty socks anywhere near me, let alone crushed up or stuffed in my mouth or whatever form this remedy takes.”

“You simply massage a substance called lard into your neck and then use dirty socks as a scarf…”

“Pass,” I declared.

"I've heard of that one!" Gordon said.

"I've looked into what lard is and my research says it is the rendered fat of the fatty tissue of a pig."

"We could try bacon grease," Alan suggested.

"No, we can't. That remedy is definitely not true," John insisted, seeing the look of horror on my face.

"It is, I read about it on Wikipedia," EOS argued.

"Oh, then it has to be real," John rolled his eyes.

"I have more if bacon fat is not to your liking," EOS interrupted.

"What are they?" I asked suspiciously.

“Pickled plums,” EOS suggested. “In Japan they eat umeboshi, also known as a pickled plum, to prevent and fight colds and flu.”

“That doesn't sound too bad,” Alan commented, obviously listening in.

“Although it’s not actually a plum, it's a variety of apricot-”

I gasped loudly, lifting my head in horror. “I TOLD you she was murderous!”

“I am not!”

“EOS, she’s allergic to apricots,” John explained. “And feeling dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic, I’m just not well,” I pouted.

“Garlic in a glass of milk,” EOS tried again.

I shook my head.

“Next?” John said.

“Onions are said to be very good, you can put them in her socks or she can wear them as a necklace.”

“Is she determined to make me smell?”

“Two pairs of socks,” EOS continued to reel off.

“I’m already wearing the thickest I can find,” I assured her.

“No, for this you soak your feet in hot water, then take a pair of socks, soak them in cold water, wring them out and wear them with dry socks over the top and sleep in them.”

I didn’t even dignify that with an answer. Wearing wet socks was never going to happen.

“That’s not healthy, EOS, wet socks will make her feel worse. Plus she already puts her cold feet on me, I don't want to suffer them cold and wet.”

“What about lizard soup?” EOS offered next.

“What, with real lizards?” Gordon asked with a laugh.

“Yes, the recipe calls for dried lizards simmered with yams and chinese dates to make a broth.”

“John, please,” I whined, burying my face in his neck in an attempt to escape all my problems. I love EOS, I do, she is our weird AI child but my gods does she try my patience sometimes.

“EOS, if you do not have any sensible suggestions then let’s not have any at all.”

“I do have sensible suggestions, I told you that I had disregarded some as they had no scientific basis or the ingredients would not be available on the island,” she argued.

“And you think that dried lizards are something we just have hanging around in the pantry?” I asked, completely bemused, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

“No, but we have lizards in Scott’s office. As far as I can see they serve no purpose…”

“I’m out!” I coughed, sitting up and throwing the blankets off. “I won’t sit here and have her suggest I eat our babies because I have a cold.”

I don’t know if John said anything to her because I’d left the room, but I hope so, she needed telling. There were some things that should never be thought about let alone suggested. Honestly, next she'd be telling me to skin Armstrong and use his fluff as a vest or something.

I had only moved from the lounge to the kitchen but I was already feeling a bit shaky and very chilly, wishing I'd brought the blanket with me.

I reached for the tea kettle, checking there was water in it before putting it on the stove to boil. I’m old fashioned in many ways and any good witch will tell you that when it comes to tea leaf or coffee grounds readings you have to have fresh boiled water over flame, it’s the law and so I have to have a proper old style kettle in the kitchen at all times. And yes they tease me about it. I flicked on the flames and that was when I heard it in the distance, the familiar whining drone of powerful engines.

“Oh, thank the gods,” I groaned, my salvation was incoming.

I had made my fruity herbal tea and was sipping it by the time Scott came to find me.

“I heard that you stormed out of the lounge,” he told me by way of greeting.

“EOS told me to eat our children," I informed him.

He blinked. “Well, I can’t say that I ever expected to hear that, but unfortunately I’m not that shocked either.”

“Mood,” I muttered, sipping from my cup and shivering pathetically.

“I might regret asking,” he started, helping himself to one of my blackberry and apple tea bags and pouring in hot water, “but how did the subject of eating Buddy and Ellie come up?”

“EOS was trying to help by offering cold cures, apparently lizard soup is a thing,” I shrugged, adding more honey to my tea. I like things sweet dammit.

"Well, you learn something new every day, I guess. Did any of these remedies sound like they might actually work?"

"Nope," I sighed. "And I'm not going back to hear more, I'm just going to sit here and freeze for a bit and then maybe got to bed."

"That's not exactly what I'd call a sensible plan, the freezing part I mean, the bed would be good."

"But I'm bored of bed," I whined, yes, I'm admitting it, I was in whining territory today, I'm not proud of it but it is what it is. "I've been waiting for you to get back to save me from them all, I'm counting on you, don't let me down."

"So the fact that I just had to save a family of hikers from a broken down Gondola cable car half way up Ben Nevis means nothing when I should have been here to save you?"

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Nope."

"Were the kids excited to ride in Thunderbird One?"

"Yep," he grinned, proud of his baby.

"Then no, it means nothing, I'm more important," I decided, sipping my tea, daring him to argue. "You need to go and sort your idiot brothers and EOS out."

"Fine, you win," he chuckled, getting up from his chair. "I'll go and whip them into shape."

"Thank you," I said. He dropped a kiss on top of my head and left me alone to my misery.

It was actually quite nice to sit quietly for a while, the only person who wandered in was Jeff, but he didn't disturb me to the point of being annoying. He just helped himself to some coffee from the pot that was on its warmer and after checking on me briefly, left again.

Scott returned after twenty minutes, finding me half asleep with my head on my folded arms which rested on the dining table.

A warmth encircled my shoulders and I sighed gratefully, sliding my arms into the sleeves.

"I knew you had it," I muttered.

"Well, it is my hoodie."

"No, it's our hoodie," I corrected him, sitting up. "But I appreciate the loan of it at this, my time of need."

"Come on."

"No, I've not finished my drink."

Scott picked up my half finished tea, felt the temperature, luke warm would be kind, and abandoned it, knowing it was a lost cause, I was just using it as an excuse. "Back to the lounge, you can't stay here all day."

"I think you'll find I can," I argued, but I didn't put up much of a fight when he dragged me to my feet and propelled me up the stairs to the lounge.

Scott deposited me on the couch beside John and took the other side, sandwiching me between them so I couldn't run away.

"EOS, don't you have something to say?" John prompted in a semi-stern voice that I would have been a lot more interested in if I wasn't feeling so close to death. I made a mental note to explore it at a later date, preferably when I had rejoined the land of the living.

"I am sorry that I suggested using the bearded dragons to make soup," she parted obediently.

"And?" John pushed.

"And I have presented my findings in a more helpful way to Gordon and Virgil and they have agreed to help me implement them," EOS continued.

"Do I even want to know?" I asked Scott, who was my saviour, champion and provider of the hoodie and there I trust him.

"It's safe, we promise," John assured me. "I checked her research and picked the things I knew you could actually stomach."

"OK," I sighed. "What am I getting?"

"EOS was right, onions and garlic do help, so, since I can actually follow a recipe and Virgil isn't too bad either, we're going to make you your favourite bolognese with lots of onions and garlic."

"And lemon, honey and ginger are all recommended ,"Gordon added, "so I'm going to make you a big pot of lemon, ginger and honey tea from scratch."

"That doesn't sound too awful," I admitted.

"We can't do anything for the reduction of stress," Scott added, "we can't do miracles, but we'll try to behave for a few days until you feel better."

"I'd appreciate that."

"While we're doing that you're going to go and enjoy a hot bath, as hot as you can stand, because sweating out a cold is recommended," John continued. "Then you're going to get dressed in your warmest sleepwear-"

"My bat onesie!"

"Oh! I'm gonna wear my onesie too," Alan decided.

"And me," Gordon grinned, glancing at Virgil.

"Sure, let's have a onesie night."

"I refuse to wear that thing," John argued.

"Me either," Scott said, joining in. "They don't fit us."

"I'll allow that," I agreed generously.

"And then we can watch that ridiculous puppet thing that you like because you always say it makes you happy," John finished.

"Seriously, you're volunteering to watch the Muppets with me?" I was so shocked you could have smacked me around the head and called me Melvin.

"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the good of the family," he answered seriously. "Now scoot, we have cooking to do and you have a bath to stew in."

There wasn't much I could say to that, so I did as I was told, heading to the biggest bathroom where I kept the good bath oils, the one with the jacuzzi tub. I could feel the bubbles calling my name.

"You know you're not getting that hoodie back any time soon, don't you?" I heard John telling Scott as I went up the stairs. I didn't need to hear the answer to know he was right, I was keeping this for at least a week.

#Isolation Island #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirds #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015 #fluffember2020

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sweets-fanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Homecoming 5

Title: Not in Camp

Word count: 2946, aka chonky chapter

Warnings: uh... fluff I guess

A/n: Long chapter cause I don’t know when to stop

----------

When the three of you returned Arthur took off towards Dutch’s tent while you returned Jack to his momma.

“There you are!” Abigail called to Jack as you pulled him down and handed him the necklace he made. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! I made you a necklace momma.”

Abigail took it in her hands and put her hand on her chest in awe. “Well ain’t I just the luckiest women.” She glanced up at you, “Oh and I see you gave the princess her crown.”

“Ms. Roberts…” You started to say.

“Oh, I’m only pullin’ your leg. Thank you for taking him out for a bit. Did somethin’ happen though?” She glanced at Arthur talking to Dutch.

“Eh… somethin’” Dutch looked over to you and waved you over. “Shoot, guess I better go.”

“Thank you again,” Abigail said.

You walked up to Dutch and Arthur, “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked as he put a hand on your shoulder, you noticed his eyes quickly glanced at the crown Jack made you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just sad we had to cut Jack’s day short.” You shrugged.

“But those men, you two are sure they didn’t recognize you.” He asked firmly.

“They didn’t seem to have any idea who I was, Pa.” He nodded.

“Dutch, I’m not sure how safe we are here…” Arthur started to state.

“We’ll be fine, son,” Dutch reassured him. “For now just be careful. Y/N no more leaving camp.”

You looked up at him annoyed and shocked. “What? I didn’t do nothin’,” You groaned.

“I’m going to make sure the Pinkertons have no idea who you are, and if that means holdin’ you ‘prisoner’ for a bit then so be it. Do I make myself clear?” The two of you stared each other down before you finally flung your arms up and stomped towards your tent.

You admittedly threw a bit of a tantrum for a bit. Staying in your tent and snapping at anyone who tried to enter. At some point, you must have fallen asleep because you opened your eyes to discover how dark it was out.

You peaked out of your tent and saw a few people around the fire. You crept past them so no one would see you as you tiptoed over to Suzie. You gave her a snack and petted her for a moment.

“And what do you think you’re doing, my dear.” You spun around as Hosea lit a cigar.

“Uncle Hosea you scared me.” You sighed.

“Guilty people usually get scared the most. Are you sneaking out of camp?”

“What? Little old me? No… no just seeing Suzie.” You lied.

“Uh-huh, and where were you gonna go?” He asked as if you had answered him honestly.

You sighed, “I was goin’ to go into Valentine and buy a gun. Dutch won’t let anyone give me one.”

Hosea chuckled, “He just cares.” He suddenly tossed you a rifle. “I take it you are goin’ huntin’ right?” You looked at the rifle in your hands. It was a Winchester.

“Hosea, where did you get a gun like this?” You asked him.

“An old man like me has his ways.” He walked up and put a gun belt around your waist that even had a pistol in it. “Use my old gun belt and pistol. I got a new one today because I misplaced my old one.” He winked at you before turning away. “Don’t get hurt. And try to be back before the sun rises.”

You smiled at him as he walked off. You loved your uncle Hosea. That’s for sure.

You saddled up as quietly as you could before making Suzie slowly leave camp. As you left camp and headed towards Valentine you felt a weight lift off your shoulder slowly. You did feel slightly guilty. Only slightly though. You knew Dutch and Henry would be pissed but you wanted to prove you could help and that you could do more than be the damn camp princess. You had originally planned to hunt but when you passed the bounty board you couldn’t help but stop and look.

You saw one for some ‘Edmund Lowry Jr.’ wanted for suspicion of murder. Sounded easy. If he hadn’t been charged yet maybe he didn’t do it. You shrugged and ripped the paper from the wall.

“So you’re a bounty hunter now?” The sheriff asked as he watched you put the paper in your bag.

“Waitressing wasn’t payin’ enough.” You smiled sweetly.

“Well, since you quit the food sucks. I should arrest ya for that alone.” You gave him a soft ‘get serious look’ “I wouldn’t go for Lowry, people have been having issues with him.”

“Thank you for the warning, but I got this.” You assured him as you climbed onto Suzie. He kept trying to convince you to take an ‘easier one’ so you stopped him the only way you knew how. “I thought I saw the butcher’s wife go into your office the other day. I hope she’s okay.”

The sheriff suddenly shuts his mouth and gives you a dirty look as you smirk, “Don’t talk about what you don’t know, bring Lowry alive.” And with that, he stomped inside. You hated cheaters.

Lowry’s location wasn’t too far. You hoped off Suzie before walking up to the door and knocking. “Excuse me? Is anyone home I got lost.” You lied.

“Who is it?” A voice asked.

“I’m headin’ into Valentine for a new job.” You said with ease.

A man opened the front door. His hair was parted down the middle and had a mustache kinda like Uncle Trelawny’s.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir.”

He seemed to try to hide a smirk. “Not at all my dear. Edmondy Lowry Jr. at your service.” He held a hand out for you to shake.

“Oh good, I knocked on the right door.” Before he could realize what you said you flung him on the ground and started to hogtie him.

“What… what’s going on? Who are you?”

“My name doesn’t matter, but you sir are being taken into the sheriff’s.” You smiled as you began dragging him to Suzie.

“Oh, it’s about time I’ve been caught. Did you like my work?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes as you put him on the back of Suzie, “Thank the lord I have not had the pleasure of seeing your ‘work.’”

“Shame really, perhaps you could let me use you?” He asked.

“Not sure my family would enjoy that.”

“Can we make a stop on the way so you can see my work?” He asked.

“This is going to be a long ride, isn’t it? You asked.

You started riding back to Valentine when you noticed someone men on horses were following you. “Mr. Lowry do you have friends I should be worried about?” You mumble to him.

“I do believe those are bounty hunters like yourself.” You groaned and tried to go faster but a ride got in front cutting you off. Suzie stopped right away almost flinging you off.

“Hey missy, you need help with that bounty?” The man asked.

“Nope, I’m good.” You said flatly.

“We’d been staking out his place for weeks and you just walked up and took him down like that.” One behind you said.

“She duped me, sadly.” Mr. Lowry started.

“Shut up or I’ll hit ya.” You threatened.

“Why don’t you hand him over. It’s only fair.” You watched the man in front of you casually pull a pistol out.

You noticed someone riding up behind the man in front of you. You saw the blue shirt you love and knew at least you had back up. “No… my uh... Partner specifically said I have to turn him in.”

“Your partner isn’t here so let’s just do this the easy way.”

“Well her partner is here.” That wonderful man said in his gruff voice. “So maybe you two should leave her alone.” Arthur’s pistol clicked.

“Hey, we had him first.” Arthur hit the bounty hunter in the back of the head knocking him out.

You turned and aimed your pistol at the man behind you. He immediately put his hands up, “I’ll leave,” He quickly turned and took off.

You smiled and put your pistol away before hopping off your horse. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan-”

“Are you just tryin’ t’ piss your daddy off?” He cut you off as he walked up to you.

“Does he know I’m gone?” You asked.

He sighed, “No. I saw you talkin’ to Hosea and leave. Hosea asked me to keep an eye on ya.” He looked down at you.

You just wanted to give him a quick peck. But the two of you had an audience.

“Oh, miss bounty hunter why didn’t you tell me you had a significant other?” Lowry said as he tried to crane his neck to see the two of you. You turned around to kick him but Arthur pulled you back by your collar.

“I think we’ll get more money if you turn him in alive.” He suggested. You took a deep breath composing yourself.

“You are correct sir.” You climbed back onto Suzie.

“I must say miss bounty hunter, your horse spacious.”

“Are you calling my horse fat?” You said starting to reach for your pistol.

“No no!” You felt him wiggle around. “I just am usually not on quite comfortable horses.”

“You don’t strike me as a horse man.” You admitted.

“No, I guess your right. Killing is more of my speed.” He said nonchalantly.

“Uh…” You looked at Arthur ahead of you. He turned around raising an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s best to shut up now.”

Thank god he was quiet for the rest of the ride. You got off Suzie in front of the Sherrif’s building. Arthur offered to pick him up but you simply grabbed the man’s ankles dragging him off your horse so his face would fall in the mud. Then from there, you dragged him inside leaving Arthur quite impressed.

“Ah, you caught the serial killer.” Sheriff said.

“Serial killer?” Both you and Arthur responded.

“Didn’t you know?”

“No! The wanted poster said under suspicion.” You yelled.

The man shrugged. “I must’ve forgotten to update the poster.”

“You think? Where’s my pay?” He put the money on the table and you snatched it away. “Thanks for nothin’ have fun with this lunatic he talks a lot.”

You walked out and to Suzie. You grabbed Arthur’s amount and turned to give it to him. “You went after a goddamn serial killer?” He questioned.

“I didn’t know. And do not tell Dutch.” You demanded.

“Y/N you gotta look into shit like that. I can’t always run to your rescue.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t always need it. I’ve just had bad luck lately.” You sighed. You took his hand and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed signaling your victory. “It’s… it’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. “How about you head back to camp. I have to meet Marston.”

You perked up, “Whatcha doin’?” You ask.

“Train robbery.” He says softly seeing as you were both near the sheriff.

“Can I go?”

“No, you have had enough adventure for the day.” You rolled your eyes and got on Suzie.

“Arthur… that kiss the other day…” You started.

“I really would love to court you properly, Y/N.” He admitted almost making you fall off your horse. “But let’s take it slow test the waters… especially so Dutch won’t shoot me.”

You must have been grinning like an idiot because he looked up at you and chuckled, “Ya seem to like the idea, so I hope it’s a yes.”

“Oh trust me, Mr. Morgan, it’s yes.”

He patted your leg smiling. “Well, get home then, I’m sure Hosea has some sort of excuse made for you.”

“Be safe, okay? I’ll give you a kiss if you don’t get a single scratch.” You teased.

“Well, I better be safe then.” His face slowly turning red.

---------

As you road into camp sure enough both Dutch and Henry were waiting. Both standing the same with their arms crossed. You attempted to do a dramatic eye roll but you still had a dumb smile on your face from Arthur.

“Where the hell were you?” Henry asked as you hitched Suzie.

“Out.” You replied simply.

“Hosea said he sent you and Arthur to run an errand for him… Even though I told you to stay in the camp.” Dutch added. He seemed to notice your smile.

“Well, if that’s what he said… then that’s what happened.” You took the camp share from your bag and handed it to Dutch while humming softly.

“And how in the world did you get this much money?” Dutch asked counting it.

“I have my ways, father.” You walked to your camp still humming and smiling.

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

Henry

“What is up with her?” Dutch asked watching after you.

“I think it’s Mr. Morgan.” Henry sighed. “She has been smiling a lot more recently.”

Dutch eyed you suspiciously as Abigail and Sadie walked by. Sadie almost didn’t feel sad as she watched you almost dance into your tent and disappear.

“Oh, she’s in love.” Abigail laughed.

“Definitely,” Sadie added.

“Love? They have known each other for a month.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Boys don’t get it.” Abigail sneered jokingly. “It’s so cute. Dutch you have to let them figure things out.”

“What… what did I do?” He asked almost offended.

“John told me about your, ‘no funny business’ comment a few weeks ago. They are cute together and so far I’ve seen Arthur do nothing but treat her with respect.”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “I...I don’t know.”

“She’s a grown-up Dutch Van Der Linde.” Abigail put her hands on her hips. “Be supportive not a shadow.” She took Sadies arm and the two of them walked off.

“I will never understand women.” Dutch walked to his tent leaving Henry alone and still confused. He looked around spotting Tilly. She looked up from washing clothes and waved at him. He waved back and walked over.

“Miss Tilly, how do you feel about my sister and Arthur?”

She thought about it a moment. “They seem to really like each other, and they get along really well. Ain’t that what matters?” She looked up at Henry. “I’ll support them.”

Henry sighed, “I… if you will, I’ll try to support them as well.” He looked at Tilly. He’d been growing feelings for her for the entire time he’d known her. “Thank you, Tilly, I always enjoy talking to you.” She smiled up at him again.

“You always know where to find me if you want to talk.”

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

Y/N

It was pretty late by the time Arthur got back. You had waited up for him wanting to make sure he would be alright. You sat in front of the fire trying to keep warm. One at a time the men started coming back. First was Sean who you hadn’t even noticed was gone.

He walked up and pretended to bow towards you, “Princess, what an honor to be in your presence.”

“Oh Sean, you make me hate the nickname even more.” You sighed. He chuckled and headed towards the beer. After him, John and Charles seemed to come back at the same time.

Charles nodded at you as he went by. As John passed you yanked his sleeve. “Hey, John?” You asked.

“If it’s about Arthur, he’s on his way still.”

You smiled. “No no, I was just going to ask if you can use that twenty dollars to get somethin’ nice for Abigail or Jack.”

It took him a moment but when he caught on he grinned and patted your head. “Thank you for telling me. I can work on my shocked face.” You pushed his hand away as he walked away laughing.

When you heard the last horse you didn’t move from your spot. You knew who it was.

Arthur came and sat down next to you as you looked into the fire. “So you’re aware what you did today was stupid… right?” He asked slowly.

“Yeah… I am. I’m sorry Arthur.” You sighed and leaned ur head on his shoulder.

You could feel him go stiff from not expecting your sudden affection. He turned your chin softly so you’d look at him.

“Well as long as you know I guess no one has a need to be angry with ya…” he seemed to start leaning closer to you as you stared into his bright blue eyes.

This was it. He was going to kiss you in front of the whole goddamn camp and you weren't stopping him.

“Not in camp.” Dutch yell from behind making Arthur and you suddenly pull away like two teens caught.

Okay… maybe he wasn’t.

You smiled up at Arthur, “Did you get hurt?”

You watched his cheeks turn red. “No, I got away okay.”

You turned around and looked towards Dutch’s tent. He was staring you two down. There were two things you could do at this moment. Wait till even later to kiss Arthur. But you were tired. Or make the camp face the music.

You took a deep breath standing up. Arthur looked at you confused as you faced him. “I’m very glad you came back safe.” You leaned down kissing him smack on the lips. As much as you didn’t want to you pulled back. “Goodnight cowboy.” You turned towards your tent leaving Arthur sitting at the fire with a bright red face.

You heard Javier somewhere in camp go, “Damn it, I just lost twenty dollars.”

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