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prodagustd · 3 months ago

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the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy.

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure.

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself.

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands.

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you.

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal.

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.”

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him.

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway.

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second.

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him.

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left.

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone.

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you.

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you?

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed.

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs.

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice.

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few.

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?”

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate.

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly.

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far.

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried.

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why.

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth.

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago.

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain.

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit. “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you.

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit.

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...”

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!”

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could.

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again.

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs.

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home.

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch.

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat.

“I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you.

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight.

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends.

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy.

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.”

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego.

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer.

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.”

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said.

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.”

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?”

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back.

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.”

“At mom?”

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.”

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said.

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.”

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.”

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly.

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around”

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.”

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.”

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop.

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever.

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep.

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.”

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.”

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said.

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.”

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish.

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew.

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was.

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.”

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown.

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.”

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things.

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?”

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat.

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that.

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.”

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad.

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.”

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?”

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?”

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it.

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well”

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

“Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed.

“What, am I wrong?”

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew?

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious.

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.”

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?”

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.”

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.”

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.”

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again?

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes.

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.”

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter.

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him.

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter.

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed.

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment.

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything.

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear.

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid.

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head.

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.”

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed.

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air.

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind.

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.”

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.”

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe.

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers.

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky.

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?”

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.”

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”.

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was.

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

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duhnova · 1 year ago

Text

Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book.

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees.

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told.

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult.

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature.

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.”

“You a dancer?”

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.”

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly.

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.”

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger.

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools.

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you.

“I’m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you.

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top.

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin.

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?”

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little.

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction.

“Cheol!”

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man.

“Hiya boss… Look.”

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu.

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly.

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country.

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine.

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks.

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold.

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was.

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair.

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.”

“Sunday?”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.”

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes.

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly.

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again.

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly.

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.”

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?”

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning.

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups.

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt.

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.”

“Has he heard of Abba?”

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light.

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe.

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true.

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again.

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower.

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic.

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer.

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from.

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down.

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner.

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club.

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously.

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.”

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it.

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth.

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light.

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass.

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office.

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies.

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.”

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out.

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box.

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register.

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered.

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into.

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist.

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.”

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in.

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing.

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out.

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together.

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering.

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully.

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.”

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies.

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter.

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting.

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.”

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back.

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you.

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips.

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.”

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.”

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely.

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.”

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly.

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound.

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you.

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again.

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat.

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard.

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly.

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting.

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.�� He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice.

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside.

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet.

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself.

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot.

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car.

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing.

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top.

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed.

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster.

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with.

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown.

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was.

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag.

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow.

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.”

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today.

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male.

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true.

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels.

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.”

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section.

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?”

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?”

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section.

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.”

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.”

“You speak really well.”

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out.

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club.

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?”

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own.

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!”

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road.

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club.

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in.

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.�� Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe.

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you.

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk.

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.”

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning.

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street.

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more.

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone.

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders.

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock.

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels.

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you.

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you.

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak. He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille.

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk.

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little.

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest.

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.”

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get.

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees.

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him.

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble.

“Can I touch you?” It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly.

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement.

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body.

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders.

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining.

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly.

“Am I a god now baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes.

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips.

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first.

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies.

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on.

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing.

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you.

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it.

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.”

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you.

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been.

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him.

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out.

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on.

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip.

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side.

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body.

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk.

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge.

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him.

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again.

“Still think I belong on Vogue?” You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you.

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title.

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs.

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.”

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side.

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully.

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you.

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs.

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently.

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself.

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding.

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties.

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down.

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you.

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer.

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it.

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells.

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics.

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs.

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight.

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks.

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol.

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip.

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice.

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the fic!

#svthub #svthub.collab #scoups #seungcheol #seugncheol smut #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seunghceol imagine #seventeen imagine #scoups fluff #scoups smut #scoups angst #scoups imagine

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buckgasms · 2 months ago

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Now I know Bucky isn't a mafia boss or anything in the Princess universe BUT I feel like he would have enemies and people would definitely think his Princess was a good target.

So imagine with me that you are out shopping and you are suddenly surrounded by burly men in suits who guide you to an unfamiliar car. Your shopping bags are left on the curb as the tyres screech as they peel away.

Maybe for a moment you think, is this an elaborate prank that Daddy has set up? But as you begin to speak a hand clamps around your mouth, pressing a damp rag to your face and everything turns black.

🖤

You wake up, groaning as you feel your hands tied to a chair and you still aren't quite sure if this is one of Daddy's games, because you've definitely been put in this position before.

"Ah you're awake, quite the snorer you know..."

A slippery voice speaks in the darkness of the room. It looks like a cheap hotel suite. Big but grubby, the sheets on the bed look like they be greasy to the touch and the walls are a sad beige. No. Daddy wouldn't bring you here. You should feel scared, but the fact this man is hiding from you makes you a little bolder.

"Bucky's gonna kill you..." You say, keeping your voice as steady as you can. "And I don't snore..."

The man chuckles and appears into your view. He looks vaguely familiar, maybe someone Bucky has identified to you at a party of some kind. A shady character, dirty dealings and always trying to encroach on Bucky's businesses.

"Now... Are you going to be good for me?"

You balk at his words and grimace. He pulls out a long knife and you shiver. You knew Daddy would be on the way, but how long did you have to endure would be unknown.

"You are going to tell me everything I want to know or I'm going to ruin that very pretty face of yours..."

🖤

When Bucky's security team kicked down the door of the hotel room they were almost surprised to find you unscathed, your captor laying on the bed with a pen and paper in his hand, both of you looking quite relaxed.

Well until they grabbed him and dragged him out of the room.

Bucky came storming in, eyes wild in panic until he saw you smiling at him. He dropped down, hands going to the binds around your ankles and wrists.

"Are you ok Princess? Are you hurt baby?"

You smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes and you wrap your arms around him. "M'fine Daddy, he didn't hurt me too bad..."

He pulled back, holding your face in his hands before kissing you desperately, lips, cheeks, nose, forehead.

"Did you do what I told ya?" He says, panic lacing his voice and he checks your skin for damage, stroking at the red marks appearing on your wrists. He looks a you again, searching.

You giggle and nod. "Yeah, I told him everything I knew. Everything I could think of..."

Bucky grins and drags you in for another kiss. "Good girl, so proud of you Princess..."

🖤

"If you ever get taken baby I need you to do something for me..."

You lay in Daddy's arms, stroking his chin as his hand wraps around your wrist. You roll your eyes and giggle, but he pulls you to focus.

"It's important Babygirl, I want you to pay attention." He couples that with rolling you on top of him, your naked body pressing into his. You were very much aware of everything that was happening now.

"If anyone takes you and they wanna know my secrets..."

"Daddy don't worry I'll keep my mouth closed" you say, making a zip motion across your lips, throwing away the key, he grabs your hand and shakes his head.

"No princess. I want you to tell them everything you can think of. Nothing I do is worth hurting you for. Tell them whatever you can baby. I want you to promise me that.."

Your eyes widen a little, thinking about the gravity of what he's saying. His business, his empire, that he built from nothing. He'd risk it all to keep you from harm.

"Ok Daddy, I promise..." You lean down and kiss him as he rolls back over, squashing you, sending you into a fit of giggles and showing you again how much he loves you.

🖤

His fingers run through your hair as you cup his face in your soft hands. Despite the way it went, you were still pretty scared and being back in his arms was a great relief.

Sensing your adrenaline bubbling he picks you up and carries you out of the room. You bury your face into his neck and breathe deeply, trying to relax in his arms. Finally he climbs into the car and settles you on his lap.

"I'm so sorry this happened baby, never wanted you to get caught up in stuff like this. That son of a bitch is gonna pay, I swear to god..."

He watches you, as you fiddle with his shirt buttons, a look of concern on your face. He tilts your chin until you meet his gaze, thumb stroking gently at your cheek.

"Are you ok Princess?"

"Yes I think so... it's just....Daddy..... Do I snore?"

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #daddy!bucky #princess!reader

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mauvecherie-writes · 10 months ago

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tell me what you want: j.koundé

pairing: jules koundé x black!fem reader.

warning: 18+ heavy touching and kissing, suggestive language, no distinctive descriptors for reader but they are BLACK.

summary: your birthday is quickly approaching and jules just wants you to tell him what you want.

w.c: 717.

notes: i saw this tiktok and i thought it was the cutest thing ever and i thought why not make it into a scenario with one of my fav footie boys. so this is something short and sweet to get those juices flowing! much love! This is not edited.

tags: @queenshikongo3 @hopefulromantic1 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @hersinsarescarlet @felicity-x0 @serpenttines-library [ask to be tagged for jules]

Driving through the streets of your hometown has never felt so good.

The sun high in the sky, a soft breeze in the air coming through your open windows as your boyfriend drove.

Nothing was better than this.

“Bébé.” The French twang in his raspy voice had your thighs clenching. From the moment you met, his voice was your weakness and that will forever be the same.

“Yes baby.” You say as you turn to look at him. His hair in its usual thick twists, moustache and goatee trimmed perfectly. The sun hitting his skin, making it look perfectly golden. Your boyfriend was beautiful and you appreciated that beauty with every glance.

“Tell me what you want for your birthday.” He asked with a slight smirk playing on his lips. Those perfect lips, soft and plump lightly moving as he chewed on his gum.

But the question had your eyes widening a bit. You’ve only been together for a few years and with each passing birthday, that question always seems to bewilder you. The type of person that you are was one to never ask for anything, most of the time Jules would have to ask your closest friends or sneak into your online shopping baskets to gift you something worth while.

This time, he wasn’t going to a take a simple “I don’t know” from you.

“What?”

“C’mon. Tell me what you want for your birthday.” The smirk was still on his face as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

You could feel your cheeks warming from the way that he was staring at you.

“What’s my budget?” You jokingly quirked.

“Unlimited. Now, tell me.”

“What if I said I wanted a house?”

“Then I’d get you a house.” His matter-of-factly tone caused to giggle.

“You’re actually serious about this?” You asked as the car came to a slow stop.

“Just rub on my thigh, like the magic genie, I’ll grant you anything mon cœur.” You giggled as you leaned across the console and with one hand on the inner of his thigh and the other to pull his face towards yours by his chin.

He licked his lips as he quickly glanced down at yours before meeting your eyes.

“Since you want to know so much let me tell you.”

“Mhm, tell me bébé.” He nodded with his head still in your palm. You leaned forwards and traced your lips with his.

“I want you.” You whispered before placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm.”

“With me.” Another kiss on the other side of his mouth.

“Just the two of us on a yacht.” You pick his bottom lip which causes him to groan. “With all my favourite things.”

“Which are?”

“I’ll send you the list.”

“And then what will we do on this yacht?”

“And then you fuck me until I can’t breathe and walk.” You breathed those last words into his mouth before he groaned once more and took a hold of the back of your neck and pulled you close.

“Genie grants your wish.” He murmured before you watched his eyes go dark. You let go of his chin the minute his other hand comes to the front of your neck.

You whimpered softly as he kissed you slowly and deep. He swallowed every sound that you made as he pressed his lips harder into yours. Shifting out of your seat, you had to restrain yourself as you could feel your body wanting to lunge into his lap. Losing yourself, your hands cupped his dick through his shorts and began to rub.

Jules slid his fingers through your braids and pulled at the roots. He pulled your head away causing you to gasp. He was always in command and you loved it that way. Jules trailed his lips down the valley of your neck until he reached the hemline of your dress.

“Let’s get this food so we can go back to your place and we can start practising what I’ll do to you on boat.” He whispered into your skin as his teeth softly grazed your skin.

You squealed as your thighs squeezed together. “Are you gonna give me anything that I want?”

“As long as you tell me what you want mon cœur.”

#mauvecherie writes #tell me what you want fic #jules kounde x black reader #jules kounde x reader #jules kounde smut #jules kounde fanfic #jules kounde fan fiction #jules kounde fanfiction #jules kounde x black!reader #jules kounde

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devilat-thedoor · 1 year ago

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Hands to Yourself Pt10

Lovers🤍🤍

SURPRIIIIIIIISEEEEEEE

Guess who finally got her shit together and finished Part 10???? No but seriously, I can’t even begin to express my gratitude for how patient everyone has been waiting on this. I’ve been off my game lately. okokok I won’t ramble, but I love you all! hope it was worth the wait💖

Word Count: 11.1k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut(Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk) Talks of pregnancy. (If I miss anything, please let me know!)

“Gimme some good news, Dr. Brooks.” You pleaded with a whine, “Is this cast coming off today?” You sat on the edge of the exam table, wiggling your arm at him. This was your third visit with the doctor since you’d been released from the hospital. The first was a week after your discharge, just to ensure your ribs were still healing well. Then another week after that, you went in to have the stitches removed before an ultrasound. “Jake won’t take me car shopping until I have full use of both hands…”

He chuckled softly, “He’s only thinking in terms of your safety, Y/N.” He took your arm, fiddling with your fingers, “Okay, I’m gonna cut this cast off and we’ll get an x-ray to see how the bones are looking.” Dr. Brooks laid the table flat, instructing you to lay down, and lifted your shirt. He pressed lightly on your ribcage, prodding his fingers around, “How’s the pregnancy? You went for an ultrasound the last time you were in… Sit up, I wanna hear your lungs.”

You obeyed, pulling your shirt back down to sit up, “It’s good, I think. I don’t really get sick anymore unless I eat pizza or spaghetti.” You placed a palm over your belly, “He does not like tomato sauce…I’ll be 14 weeks on thursday. I think I’m kind of showing?” You pulled the shirt taught over your stomach, showcasing the barely-there bump.

“It’s definitely possible. I’ve known mothers to start showing in their 12th week and some that don’t show until they’re well over 5 months.” He held the stethoscope to your back, “Deep breath for me, Y/N.” You felt him move it to another spot, pressing it into your shirt and telling you to breathe again, “Everything sounds great… So you said ‘he.’ It’s a boy?” He was scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“We don’t know for sure yet, but I have a strong feeling.” You rubbed your hands over your leggings, “I’ve been having these really vivid…dreams. Umm. It’s always a boy in them, so…” Your eyes fell to the floor.

The doctor looked down at you, studying your body language, “Y/N, have you scheduled an appointment with the trauma therapist I recommended?” He wheeled his stool in front of you and sat down, “Jake told me about the nightmares during your last check in. You should really consider going to see Dr. Lucera. She’ll help you understand why you’re having these dreams and present you with ways to deal with the PTSD.” He ripped a corner from one of his papers, wrote something down on it, and placed it in your shaking hand, “Call her office and make an appointment. I promise, it will help.”

You took the scrap of paper from him, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll try.” Ready for a subject change, you waved your arm in front of him again, “Is It time?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“It’s time.” Dr. Brooks stood from the stool with a smile and walked towards the door, “I’ll be right back. Do you want me to send him in?” You gave him an enthusiastic nod as he exited the exam room, pulling the door shut after him.

Minutes later, Jake was coming into the room, “How’s everything looking, my love?” He stood by you, leaving a kiss to your forehead.

“He’s finally taking the cast off.” You grinned up at him, “You know what that means, baby…”

“It means you’re getting x-ray to see if you need a new cast.” He stated matter-of-factly, “Dr. Brooks already briefed me, Y/N.” He plucked the paper from your fingers, looking it over, “And we’re gonna schedule an appointment with the therapist he recommended when we get home.”

You tried to grab it back before he jammed it into his pocket, “No. I’m throwing that in the garbage. I don’t need help with anything, I’m handling it.”

“You’re not, though, love.” He caught your hand as you dug into his pocket, “Ignoring it and pretending it’s not happening isn’t handling it. Frankly, I think it’s making it worse.” He moved in front of you, bending a bit to meet you face to face, “Let’s compromise, baby… If you promise me that you’ll try one appointment, just one, we can leave here today and start car shopping. Cast or no cast.”

You negotiated a counteroffer, “I’ll make the appointment before I leave this room today, BUT…” You leaned in until your noses were almost touching, “I get to go back to work on monday.” He backed up, shaking his head, but you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back towards you, “Jake, it’s been well over a month. I gave you time like you asked, more than what was needed.”

Before he could respond, your doctor was coming in with a nurse, wheeling a cart with medical instruments, “Alright, Y/N, I’m going to give you a quick rundown of how this works… Have you ever had a cast removed before?” You shook your head as you looked at the tools on the cart. He took note of your nervous energy in the way you grasped tightly onto Jake’s hand, “There is nothing to be worried about, I assure you.” Dr. Brooks picked up the saw, holding it against his hand, “This is a vibrating saw, it cuts through the fiberglass but it cannot and will not cut your skin.” He clicked the button on and let it run over his palm.

You squeezed Jake’s hand harder with a faint gasp at the whirring sound. “Baby, it’s fine, look.” He held his free hand out for Dr. Brooks and allowed the man to put the tool against his skin, “See, it just tickles a bit, no pain, no cuts.” He pulled his palm back for you to see.

“Okay…” You nodded your head, giving your attention back to the doctor.

He placed the saw back on the cart and picked something else up, “Once we get through the brunt of it, we’ll use these shears to cut through all the padding.” He put them down and picked up the last thing to hold in front of you, “Then, once we have a clear channel, we’ll use the spreader to crack it open and slide it off so that we can see how you’re healing under there. Sound good?”

Taking a deep breath, you held your arm out, “Yes, just get the damn thing off…”

After your appointment, Jake was going to take you car shopping like he agreed but you weren’t really up to it, “Can we just go home, actually? Make lunch and watch a movie?”

“Of course, love.” He eyed you from the driver’s seat, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t really sleep too well last night… I’m a little tired.” You were lying, but you didn’t want to tell him that the mere thought of getting behind a wheel made you anxious beyond belief. Thankfully he didn’t question any further, just made the drive home with a gentle hold on your freshly freed hand.

_________________________________________________

After getting home, you changed into shorts and a tank top to clean the house a bit before settling at the kitchen table for lunch. You couldn’t help but notice the way Jake kept watching you, studying you. Every time your gaze would lift from your food, you’d find his eyes on you. He watched you squeeze your hand around your wrist, rolling it a bit, “Does it hurt?”

“No, it just feels weird.” You stared down at your left hand, flexing your fingers and knuckles, “Mobility was limited, all I could really move were my fingers and even that was just barely. I think I just need to get used to moving it around.”

“Well… Just don’t push it. Dr. Brooks said the bone may not be as strong as it was.” Jake put his fork down, picking up a napkin to wipe his mouth, “I still can’t believe you got scared when he brought the saw out.” He laughed as he reached for his cup.

“Fuck off, I wasn’t even scared, Jake.” You threw your napkin at him, sharing his laughter, and stood from the table, grabbing your empty plate and his, “Are you still hungry, baby?” As you moved past him to put the dishes in the sink, he grabbed your waist, pulling you down into his lap, “Jacob!” You yelped as one of the plates crashed to the floor, shattering to pieces.

He took the remaining one from your hand and put it back on the table with a playful smirk, “I want dessert…” His hand went to the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. You wanted to yell at him for making you drop the plate but his lips were moving so madly against your own that you couldn’t focus on anything else. Suddenly, he was standing up and lifting you with him to sit you on the edge of the table. His lips went to your jaw, trailing their way down as he yanked the strap of your shirt to the side to kiss along your shoulder..

Your legs parted on their own, giving him the space to stand between them, “Baby, what is- Oh…” Your hands shot his shoulders as he grasped your hips, grinding his erection into you, “Would this have anything to do with how you’ve been staring at me?”

He bit down on your collarbone, drawing a gasp from you, “You look so fucking beautiful…” He pulled the other strap down, letting your tank top fall below your breasts, “My dick has been hard since you sat down to eat…Are they getting bigger?” He was cupping your tits, squeezing them gently.

“Well, I’m pregnant…so probably.” You giggled at his amazed expression.

Jake pulled the tank top over your head before dropping back into his chair and scooting it closer to the table, “Pregnant with my baby…” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your belly, “Still can’t believe it sometimes. I made him…” He was staring at the teeny bump, brushing his knuckles against your skin.

You hooked your finger under his chin, lifting his eyes to you, “I don’t think you can take all the credit on this one, baby. It was a group effort.” You smiled down at him, poking the tip of his nose, “I can tell you exactly when we made him…or- at least when I think we made him.”

“When? How do you know?” He grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers, and laid his head on your thigh as he gazed at you.

“My OB helped me kind of calculate it at my last appointment. It was confusing, but she gave me a general time frame of the conception date.” You pushed the hair from his face, cupping his cheek, “The cookout… That morning, in the bathroom. Do you remember?”

He turned his head, placing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “Of course I remember.” He continued leaving wet kisses across your flesh, “I can remember just about every time I’ve been here…” He pressed his index finger to the front of your shorts, applying pressure to your clit, “You were too stressed, in a panic, and it was driving me mad.”

“Baby…” You whined as he drew circles over the fabric.

A smirk crept over his lips, “I had you in front of the mirror, the prettiest sounds falling from your lips… But you had to be quiet and you just couldn’t.” Jake withdrew his hand to hook his fingers into your waistband. You lifted your hips from the tabletop so he could pull the shorts down and drop them to the floor, “I had to put my fingers in your mouth to keep you silent and you bit me.” He brought his hand to your lips, tapping them, and you opened your mouth to let his fingers in, rolling your tongue around them, “Hmm. I remember how wet you got, watching me fuck you in the reflection.” He took his hand back and resumed the tortuous swirls on your clit, “Almost as wet as you are now, love…” He gathered your arousal, pinching his thumb and two fingers together to admire it before pushing his fingers into you.

You rested your feet on his knees, “You bit me back- Mmm. Your tee- shit…Your teeth marks were there for d-days.” His fingers were petting at the sweetest spot inside of you, causing your head to drop back with a lilting moan, “I love it when you mark me like that.”

“God, those noises you make…” His mouth was on your inner thigh again, nibbling his way closer to your core, “Fucking angelic, my love.” He opened his mouth, ready to grace you with his tongue but you stopped him.

You grabbed his face, “Jake, please. I wanna feel you.”

“Patience, baby.” He kissed your palm, keeping eye contact with you while fucking you with his fingers.

You sunk your teeth into your lip with a groan, “Just- think of the sounds I’ll make when you’re inside of me.” You knew you had him when his hand started to slow, inevitably stopping. Smirking down at him, you took his hand from you and pulled him to stand from the chair, “You weren’t lying…” You felt for his dick over his pants, feeling just how hard he really was.

“I told you… You’re so beautiful, all the time.” His breath hitched as you dipped below his waistband, grasping him in your hand, “But today- fuck, Y/N… Today you just- There was something different.” Jake squeezed his eyes shut, unable to concentrate on anything other than the way you stroked him.

“Something different, huh? Well, there’s only one thing different about me.” You used your free hand to grab his shirt and pull him closer, speaking into his ear, “Do you like me pregnant, Jake? The fact that my belly is growing…my tits…and it’s all your doing.” You nipped his ear lobe and felt him twitch against your palm.

He grabbed your wrist and removed your hand from his pants in a haste, “I can’t- I gotta- fuck.” Jake stuttered as he pulled his pants down, just enough to free his length, “I gotta have you now, baby.” He was desperate, one hand on your leg while he used the other to guide himself to your entrance.

You held his hips, watching as he slid himself through your folds, “Just do it, baby. Please.” You could feel your arousal gathering into a small puddle beneath you as you oozed with just as much desperation as him. You pulled on him, luring him just where both of you needed, “Fuck me, Jake.” It came out as a pathetic, needy whine but he couldn’t resist.

“I’ll give you anything you want, I swear to god, Y/N… Just keep talking to me like that, tell me what you want, pretty baby.” He finally pushed into you, his brows knitted as he held his breath.

“I want you to kiss me…” You released a soft sigh as he stretched you. His hand weaved into your hair as he leaned in with no hesitation, but you stopped him before his lips could meet yours, “Nuh uh.” You held your index finger over his mouth and he stared in confusion, “Kiss me…here.” You grazed your fingers over your collarbone and he dove in. Starting at your right shoulder, he trailed soft, suckling kisses the whole way to the left, stopping to dip his tongue into the hollow of your neck while giving deep, languid strokes with his cock, “That’s good, baby. Keep fucking me just like that.” You gripped his jaw, pulling his lips to yours in a hungry kiss as you whimpered into his mouth.

He broke away with a strangled groan, letting his head hang, “You fit around me so fucking well-.” He pushed your knees up to let your feet rest on the edge of the table, spreading you open, “So perfect together, baby… You and me…look at us.”

You dropped your gaze to where your bodies met, watching him fill you up over and over, “Touch me. Please just fucking touch me, Jakey.” You spoke through a slew of gasps and moans. Grabbing one of his hands, you pulled his thumb into your mouth, coating it in your spit, “Touch me here.” You guided his hand to your cunt, promoting him to follow your orders. You leaned back on your hands, watching him expertly strum at your clit, “Fuuuuck…That’s- I’m close.” Your eyes started to roll until he stopped moving, making you look up at his face, “Baby…”

Jake had himself buried completely inside of you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock. He remained motionless except for his thumb, still spoiling your clit, “Shhh. Stop whining. You think I don’t know how to pull you apart?” He kept his eyes trained on his thumb as he spoke, his voice a calm whisper, “I know your body so well, love… I could break you down to a molecular level and put you back together blindfolded.” His voice was like warm honey; thick and sweet, dripping over your body and drowning you, “You say the word and I’ll make you cum like *snap* that, sweet girl, you know I will.”

You were clenching around him fiercely, admiring how his face contorted with every fluttering pulse. You had no doubt that the second you gave a signal, he’d throw you straight into that endless freefall and you were ready for it, “Jake, now..” You needed it, demanded it.

He took his hand from your pussy and brought it up to curl around your throat, squeezing carefully as he pulled your mouth to meet his, “I told you I’d give you anything you want…” He kept a light hold on your neck, brushing his nose against yours as he drew his hips back. He bent his knees slightly and gave a single, sharp, perfectly angled thrust, watching as your jaw dropped open, “I fucking told you, baby.”

You fought to keep your eyes on his. Your mouth hung agape with a soundless cry as his fingers tightened on your pressure points, forcing your eyes into the back of your head. Your whole body convulsed, laced with zaps of blinding electricity. Your hands frantically grabbed for his hips, pulling on him, wanting him as deep as he could get, as a night sky exploded behind your eyelids. A black backdrop, spotted with tiny, bright specks, luring you into oblivion. He released your neck, allowing you to draw in a deep breath before gasping out, “God, Jake-”

He slowed his thrusts, giving you a moment to come down, “I need one more, my love. Just one.” Jake snaked his arms around your back, pressing your chest flat against his as you nodded silently. He began moving again, slipping into you with no resistance as soft, melodic whimpers poured from your lips, “C’mon, baby, you’re already there.” He watched your face scrunch up, your brows pinched, as you repeatedly opened and closed your mouth, unable to form words.

Your fingers searched for the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head. You wanted him close, wanted to feel his sweat-sticky skin melded with yours, “I- oh…oh shhh-” You held onto him tightly, nails dragging across his back, “Jake, please… Oh pleasepleaseplease!” It was the last coherent thing you could muster before biting down on his shoulder as your second orgasm hit harder than the first.

“That’s it… That’s-fuck.” He stilled, a shiver rippling through his body as his own climax consumed him. He pulled himself out of you, stroking his length against your clit and letting the first bit of cum paint your pussy before slamming back into you. He lifted your trembling body from the table and sat back in the chair, keeping himself tucked safely inside of you as he hugged you to him and peppered sweet pecks to your skin. Once your aching lungs settled, you pulled back enough to look down between your bodies. Your fingers mindlessly swept over your clit, dragging through the mix of release, before you sucked them into your mouth. Jake’s eyes held onto yours as you lapped his cum from your digits with a mellow hum, “Goddamn, woman…” His hand balled into your locks as he pulled your fingers from your mouth to replace them with his tongue. He licked at your lips, rolling his tongue against your own to taste the both of you as he finally began to soften.

Your head fell to his shoulder as you closed your eyes, “If I wasn’t already pregnant, I definitely would be now.” You stayed there for a while, his hands gently rubbing your back while you listened to his calm breaths, “I’m gonna get up, baby…” You warned before slipping off of his sensitive dick.

He hissed, dropping his head back as you slowly stood from his lap, “Careful. I gotta clean this mess up.” He pushed you to the side, making sure your feet avoided the ceramic shards littering the hardwood, “Sorry, about the plate, love.”

You smiled at him, brushing the hair from his forehead, “Gives me an excuse to buy a new set of dishes.”

“Anything you want.” He stood up, tucking himself into his pants, “Go have a shower, I’m gonna take care of this.” His eyes raked over your naked body as he grasped your hips. You thought he was gonna kiss you but instead, he smirked, staring at your chest, “They’re definitely getting bigger.”

“You’re annoying.” You pushed him away with a laugh, “Clean your mess up, Jacob.” You pointed at the floor behind him before turning around and stalking out of the kitchen. Deciding on a warm bath, you headed straight for the guest bathroom with a plush towel and the small bluetooth speaker. As you waited for the tub to fill, you unlocked your phone to pick a playlist and found a text from Odessa.

Odessa 1:36pm: I miss you!!! Don’t wanna invite you over for another movie night…but we should do something soon pleeease!

You missed her too, missed everyone really. The time you and Jake spent together was great, no doubt, but it had been too long since everyone was together and you were dying for a family night. After sinking into the bubbly water, you texted Dess back.

You 2:25pm: I miss you too❤️ are you free tonight? I think I’m gonna invite the guys over for dinner. I’ll get rid of Jake for a bit and you can come early and help me cook

Odessa 2:27pm: Absolutely! When should I be there, babe?

You 2:28pm: Around 5. Can’t wait to see you!

“Baaaaabe!” You yelled for Jake after dropping your phone on the towel beside the bathtub, “Come heeeeere!”

He came rushing into the bathroom with the dustpan in his hand, “What? Why are you screaming?”

Sitting up, you rested your arms on the side of the tub, laying your chin atop of them, “Tell your brothers to come over for dinner tonight. I miss them.” You held your hand out, wiggling your fingers at him, “Round them up, take ‘em out for a drink or two, and just be back here by seven.”

He took your hand and knelt down, giving you a peck, “And you just decided this yourself?”

“I did. Dess is gonna come over early to help me cook and you need some time out with the guys.” Cupping his cheek, you pulled him in for another kiss, “Just don’t get so drunk that you can’t eat……dinner…” You bit your tongue between your teeth with a smile as he shook his head at you.

“You’re greedy…” Jake dropped your hand as he stood up and started to leave the room, “I’ll call Josh.” He stepped out, leaving the door wide open.

_____________________________________________

“Danny said he’ll drop Odessa off and pick me up, Josh and Sam are gonna meet us at the bar.” Jake was pulling his old tan boots on when a knock sounded on the door, “That’s probably her.” He turned around to open the door, revealing Odessa standing on the porch.

She squealed, pushing past him and straight to you, “You look so much better since the last time I saw you, babe!” She wrapped her arms around you, squeezing hard.

“I feel so much better!” You squeezed her back, keeping her in your embrace until Jake cleared his throat behind her. Releasing her, you looked up at him, “Have fun, baby!” As you turned to pull Odessa further into the house, he stopped you.

“Come back here.” His tone held a certain authority that had you scurrying back to him without question. His arm circled your back, hauling you flush against him, as he whispered over your mouth, “I think I deserve a proper goodbye, don’t you?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know that I can give you a proper goodbye in front of Dess.” You fell into him with a grin, letting your arms hang loosely around his neck, “I love you, Jakey.” You giggled as you kissed him, “Have fun, home by seven.” You gave him a pointed look before peeling out of his hold and grabbing your friend to go to the kitchen. “You want something to drink, hun?” You pulled a stool out at the island for her to sit down.

“Can I ask for wine? Do you even have wine? I don't know what the rules are for pregnant friends…” She took a seat, folding her hands in front of herself as she watched you move around the kitchen.

You laughed, pulling a glass from the cabinet, “There are no rules and of course I have wine. You know who I live with, right?” You grabbed two bottles from the small wine rack, holding them up for her to see, “White or red?”

She pointed to the white and waited patiently as you put the red back and poured her a glass before handing it to her, “Thank you, babe!” Odessa took a long sip from the cup and placed it on the island, “You got the cast off, where is your ring?” Of course she’d be the first to notice…

“Shit…Jake’s been wearing it on one of his necklace chains for safekeeping.” You looked down at your hand, “We were busy today, I guess we both forgot about it.” Lifting your shoulders, you shrugged, biting back the smile as you thought about just how busy you’d been a few hours earlier, “Remind to get it off of him when they get back.”

She eyed you with a knowing look, a smirk tilting her lip, “Yeah, okay…So, what are we cooking?”

“How do you feel about pasta?” You opened the fridge and began pulling out different ingredients, “I was thinking a simple Cacio e Pepe, maybe some bruschetta and a salad?”

“Oooh, that sounds so good!” She stood up and came around the island, “What do you want me to do? Gimme some direction.”

“Do you want to start chopping these? I’m gonna go grab the speaker to play some music.” You placed a cucumber and a few different peppers in front of her and grabbed a knife from the block, “Dice the peppers into big chunks and just slice the cucumber.” You handed her the knife and scampered out of the kitchen. When you returned, you couldn’t help but laugh at the way she haphazardly chopped the veggies.

“What?!” Odessa dropped the knife on the cutting board with a huff, “Danny does most of the cooking at home! I’m trying my best.”

“Oh hush, hun. You’re doing great, just keep going.” You watched as she resumed her task and clicked the power button on the speaker, allowing it to connect to your phone, “What do you wanna listen to? Any preference?”

She grabbed the dish towel to wipe her hands off, “Actually, can I send you this playlist I made a few days ago?” She took her phone from her pocket after you nodded in approval and sent the playlist, “It’s good, I promise! Just full of songs that my mom used to listen to all the time that really stuck with me.”

Opening it up, you pressed the shuffle button without looking through the songs and let it play, “God, I love this song!” You started singing as you walked to the counter behind Odessa to retrieve the pasta dough that had been resting, “Does she speak eloquently? And would she have your baby? I’m sure she’d make a really excellent mother!”

“Hell yeah, babe!” Your friend was swaying her hips as she chopped, joining in to sing with you, “And every time you speak her name, does she know how you told me you’d hold me until you died?”

It wasn’t long before the both of you were having a full blown concert performance in your kitchen, using wooden spoons as drumsticks and a rolling pin as a guitar while you sang at the top of your lungs.

And I’m here to remind you of the mess you left when you went away

It’s not fair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me

You, you, you oughta know!!!

The song faded out as you both keeled over with laughter, gasping to catch your breath, “Oh my god!” Odessa was wiping the tears from beneath her eyes as she straightened up and tried to stop laughing, “That was fucking amazing, I really needed that!”

You came up behind her and wrapped your arms around her, “Fuck, Dess… I needed that too!” You hugged her tight as she gripped onto your arms and leaned into you, “I love you, Dess…I haven’t thanked you enough for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Awwwe, Y/N, stop. You’re gonna make me cry.” She turned around to face you with a genuine smile, “I would do anything for you, babe. I love you so much…” She paused, her voice taking on a less cheerful tone, “I’ll never forgive myself for bringing Sage into you and Jake’s life.”

“Odessa, it-.”

“Just let me get this out, please. It’s been weighing on me.” She cut you off and you silently nodded for her to continue, “I knew she had her issues, but I swear, I never expected her to try anything with Jake… The day she met him, in Atlanta, I made it clear that he wasn’t available. Hell, he made it crystal clear the way he ignored her desperate attempts at flirting.” She shook her head with a sigh, “She kept going on about him on our drive back and I told her, again, that you guys had been together forever and she needed to just forget about him, and I thought she did. She didn’t bring him up once to me after that and then at the bar that night, when I introduced her to you, I really thought she was over it. She didn’t even look at him once.” You listened intently, wanting to hear her point of view, “I wanted you two to be friends so bad. She was my best friend, but you and I were getting closer and I just thought you two could love each other as much as I loved you both…But she started changing and I didn’t realize it at first and maybe if I had-” Odessa leaned back against the counter, trying to blink away tears, “Maybe I could’ve prevented all of the shit she- I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Her cries echoed through the kitchen as she put her head into her hands.

You could feel your own tears forming as you reached out to hug her again, “Do not blame yourself, Dess. None of it is your fault. She’s manipulative, conniving…just a twisted fucking person. I was the one who let her get close to me.” You released her and stepped back, “I saw the red flags, ignored my gut feelings, and at the end of the day, that’s on me. But nobody is to blame for the psycho shit she did except her. She made her choices and she should have to fucking pay for them.” You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling angry.

Odessa used her sleeve to wipe her cheeks with a sniffle, “Yeah…I wanted to ask how she isn’t…like…in prison?”

“Haaa. Because she literally manipulates everyone. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s good.” You were chewing on your lip, thinking back on the last visit from Detective Walsh, “Do you remember the detectives that came to the hospital? The one was an asshole.”

She took a few seconds to think before nodding her head, “Oh god, yeah. They talked to me in the waiting room and the one with the mustache, he was super patient and listened well. The other guy hardly let me get a word in. He would ask a question and then fill my mouth with his own answers before I could say anything.”

“Yeah, well, his hostility came from the fact that he was fucking Sage.” You said it with a grim chuckle, “Detective Walsh came by a few weeks ago and told us that his partner got suspended after they found out. But get this…Sage said that the other detective forced her to do everything and now there’s an entire separate investigation going on that paints her as a victim.” Your head dropped back as you trained your eyes on the light above you, your voice a whisper, “It’s like she’s always one step ahead…I just wish there was a way to beat her at her own game.”

“I mean, she admitted to stalking you, taking those videos and pictures… Shouldn’t that be enough to prove she’s guilty of something?” She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at you.

“There’s no proof that she admitted to it. She said it to us, yeah, but it’s just ‘hearsay.’” You held your fingers up with air quotes as you picked your head up to look at her again, “Detective Walsh said it’s a he said/she said and that without tangible evidence, it’s inadmissible.” You shrugged your shoulders in defeat.

Odessa’s brows were drawn together in thought for a moment, “But what if you can get her to admit it?” She was thinking hard and you waited for her to elaborate, “You said she’s always one step ahead, but everyone has a weakness, Y/N…And I think we know what her weakness is, or who anyways.” She spoke carefully, unsure of how you would react to her suggestion.

“No. Absolutely not. Jake has been through way too much at her hands.” You were shaking your head profusely, “I wanna see her get what she deserves more than anybody, but I will not use him to speed the process up.”

“Okay. Hey, forget I even suggested it, babe.” She grasped your face in her hands, brightening her tone, “How about we get back to dinner?”

You looked at the digital clock on the stove, “Shit… They’re gonna be back in an hour and I do not have time to roll and cut the pasta.” You picked up the bowl of dough from the countertop, poking it with your fingers, “We’re just gonna have to scrap it and use store bought.” You flipped the bowl over and let the dough ball drop into the trashcan before going to the pantry for the boxed pasta, “Alright, get in the fridge and grab the arugula, the parmesan wedge and the cherry tomatoes.” Grabbing a large pot from a cabinet below the counter, you began filling it up with water to place on the stove.

Odessa came back to the island with everything you told her to retrieve, “Now what?”

“Uhhh… Hang on.” You climbed up on the counter to get your big, wooden salad bowl from on top of the refrigerator, “Here. Put the arugula in here, the peppers, cucumbers, slice the tomatoes in half and throw them in and then shave some parm strips into it.” You hopped down and gave her the bowl then grabbed the cheese grater for her, “I’m gonna make a dressing while I wait on this water to boil, turn the music up!” You pointed at the speaker that was still playing her playlist.

“Yes, chef!” She was quick to follow your orders, dropping everything into the bowl as she finished cutting the veggies.

You whirled through the kitchen, reaching for a mixing bowl and snatching a whisk from a drawer, before stopping to mix up a vinaigrette. Cutting a lemon in half, you squeezed the juice into your bowl and added some cracked black pepper and a pinch of salt, then a bit of dijon mustard and some garlic and whisked it rapidly. Once you were satisfied with how everything was mixed, you picked up the olive oil and began drizzling it into the bowl while constantly stirring, allowing it to emulsify. You ran your finger along the utensil and licked the dressing off to taste it, “Dess, taste this and tell me what you think. Is it too much lemon?” You held the whisk up for her to try it.

She dragged her finger over the metal and pulled it into her mouth, “Mmm!” Her eyes were wide as she tasted the vinaigrette, “That’s so fucking good!” She picked up a slice of cucumber and dipped it into the dressing before tossing it into her mouth, “I need that recipe, babe…”

You giggled as she mumbled past the food, “I’ll write it down for you later. Once you have the salad finished, drizzle this over top and give it a good toss.” You passed the bowl to her and went to tend to the boiling water. After dropping the noodles into the pot, you spent a few minutes to whip up a quick garlic bread and get it in the oven to bake.

Everything was coming together smoothly and you and Odessa were singing along to the music and setting the table with minutes to spare before the guys got in. You placed the main dish in the center of the table, with the salad and garlic bread on either side of it, while she gathered silverware. Once it was all set, you both took a break to dance around the kitchen while the music played, Keep Your Hands to Yourself by Georgia Satellites.

My honey, my baby, don’t put my love upon no shelf

She said, ‘Don’t hand me no lines, and keep your hands to yourself’

You and Odessa were laughing through the lyrics as you twirled each other around the room and didn’t hear the boys come in until Jake opened his mouth, “What the fuck is going on?” He couldn’t contain his smile as he watched you shake your hips. He was coming across the kitchen, arms extended as he grasped your waist to pull you in, “Food smells good, love…” He was half shouting over the music and your own voice as you kept singing.

He leaned in for a kiss but you planted a hand on his chest while wagging a finger in his face with a wicked smile, “I said, honey, I’ll live with ya for the rest of my life… She said, no huggee, no kissee until you make me a wife!” You pinched the ring that hung on his necklace between your fingers and held it in front of his face, “My honey, my baby…Don’t put my love upon no shelf-.” You were cut off by Jake circling his arms around you and lifting you from the floor. You let out a squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck as he spun you.

He let you back onto your feet and pulled his necklace off to remove the ring and slide it into its rightful place on your finger, “Can I have a kiss now?”

“I guess so…” Your fist balled into his shirt to yank him against you and you let his lips find yours, “Mmm. You taste like bourbon.” Your tongue dragged across your lip and you’re sure Jake must’ve seen the fire that ignited in your eyes as he responded.

“You want me to just send everyone home so I can eat?” His voice was low, but not low enough to evade Sam’s ears, “I’m famished…”

“You guys are gross!” He was talking with a full mouth and you looked past Jake to see him standing with a piece of garlic bread in his hand.

You rolled your eyes at, “Sammy… You couldn’t wait for everyone to sit down?” You turned the music down as you padded over to him, “We worked too hard on this for you to just stick your grubby fingers in everything, go wash your hands.” You pointed to the sink.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at you, “Y’know, I’m not your kid. You can’t boss me around like that.” It was a moot point, proved by the way he stalked past you to the sink and scrubbed his hands as you’d instructed.

“Hey, mama!” Josh tapped your shoulder and pulled you into a suffocating hug, “Dinner looks great, thanks for inviting us.” He placed a soft kiss to your cheek before releasing you and looking over your body, “You look good, Y/N.”

“You say that everytime you see me, Joshy.” You reached up to fluff his curls a bit, a habit you’d picked up over the past few weeks since he’d been around more often, “But I still appreciate it.”

He swatted your hand away with a gentle smile, “I know, but there’s something today…Something about your aura, maybe? I don’t know, I can’t place it.” He was studying you like he was trying to figure it out.

“Yanno, I said the same thing earlier.” Jake came up beside his twin with a smirk, “It’s something different…” His eyes flicked down to your chest and back up.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s eat?” You could feel your face getting hot as you headed for the table, stopping to give Danny a hug.

Your face pressed into his chest as he squeezed you, “It’s good to see you doing better, Y/N. You do look good.”

“She looks better than good. She’s hot as hell.” Odessa raised her third glass of wine to you from her seat at the table that she claimed 20 minutes earlier.

Sammy was behind you, his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t know what you’re all seeing… She looks a little rough to me. Kinda stinky too.”

You jabbed your elbow into his stomach, “Well then you probably don’t wanna eat my stinky food… Guess you’ll just have to order a pizza.” You turned around to stare up at him with a smile before forcing him into a hug, “I missed you, Sammy.”

He instinctively embraced you, his arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders, “I missed you too. But can we eat? It smells so good.” He pulled back with a grin as you nodded and gestured to the table.

“My love.” Jake held his hand out for you to take and led you to the table, pulling your chair out. Everybody else took their seats, Jake at the head of the table, Danny opposite him as usual. You and Josh were on either side of Jake, Sam beside you and Odessa beside Josh, her hand grasped in Danny’s.

They all took turns spooning food onto their plates. Jake made sure your plate was filled before he even thought about putting food on his own, “Baby, that’s too much.” You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from scooping another helping of pasta, “I was snacking while I cooked, I’m not that hungry.” He gave you a certain look. One that said he knew you were lying as he tilted his brows in question. You shook your head, dismissing whatever he was thinking, “I’m okay, baby. Promise. Just a little nauseous.” You whispered quietly to keep it between the two of you.

“You want me to make you some tea?” He took your hand, bringing it to his lips, “Tell me how to make it go away, love.” His lips brushed over your knuckles and you smiled at the way he still sent butterflies through your gut.

“Maybe just some water?” Your eyes followed him as he got up and went to the fridge to get you a bottle of water and came back, “Thank you, lover.” You leaned over the table to give him a kiss before settling back into your chair.

Conversations carried on as everyone ate and after a while, you all ended up scattered through the house. You sat on the couch, curled up to Sam as he rambled to Daniel about a science project they had in high school. Josh was thumbing through the shelf of vinyls, grumbling about how none of it was what he wanted to listen to. You giggled to yourself, watching him toss his hands around as he talked to himself.

“Josh, honey, what are you looking for?” You pushed off of Sam to stand up from the couch.

“Bob Dylan!” He threw his hands above his head with a growl, “Where is the Bob fucking Dylan?!”

Kneeling down beside Josh, you scanned through the vinyls yourself, “You know what, Jake might have some records in his office, come look?” You started the trek towards the back of the house with him on your heels. You noticed Jake and Odessa conversing in the kitchen as you passed and wondered what they were talking about. Pushing the door to the spare bedroom open, you stepped aside for Josh to enter and pointed to the record cabinet, “He always hoards a bunch in there. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to fight for my BB King albums… He likes to think that all the best stuff belongs to him.”

“That’s because it does.” Jake was standing in the doorway with a sweet smile, “What are you guys doing?” His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him.

Josh was coming towards you, carrying a few albums, “Needed Dylan.” He held the vinyls up to his twin and stalked past him, heading back to the living room with everyone else.

“Baby, we’re gonna need to find a place for all of your stuff here.” You gestured around the room.

Jake walked further into the room, pulling you with him, “Maybe we just need a bigger house.” He sat in his leather chair, yanking you down onto his lap, “How do you feel about moving? Finding something with more space? I’ve been thinking about it and I just don’t think this place is gonna be big enough.”

You tangled your fingers with his, thinking it over, “This is home, Jake.” You held eye contact with him, “This is where we’ve built our life, where we really started… I don’t wanna just pack up and move on, leaving all the memories.” A grin cracked across your face as you spoke, “I want to make more memories. With our baby… I want to make him bacon and eggs in our kitchen and give him bubble baths with toys in the clawfoot tub.” He brought your hand to his mouth, holding your knuckles against his lips while he listened, “I want to sit him on our sink to put a bandaid over his knee when he gets his first booboo and fall asleep on the couch with him during nap time… Uncle Sammy and Uncle Danny will teach him how to swim in our pool and pyromaniac Uncle Joshy will teach him how to start a fire in the pit for the best s’mores.” Your voice cracked a bit as you started to get emotional, “If we need more room, we can build an addition. We can build ten hundred additions, I don’t care… But I don’t want to leave, Jake.”

He was blinking quickly, trying to hide the tears that threatened his eyes, “You’re right. This is home.” He nodded as his grin started to match yours, “We’ll make room, build an addition, it doesn’t matter. We’ll stay here forever if that’s what you want, my love. I’ll start packing shit up tomorrow and we can get to planning his room.” He brushed his fingers over your legs as you both looked around the room, dreaming up possible colors and themes.

Silence fell over the two of you for a bit until you tilted your head to look at him, “Hey. What were you and Dess talking about in the kitchen?”

The question caught him off guard and he hesitated before answering, “Uhh, it was nothing…” Jake paused, but he realized you weren’t going to let it go until he gave you an answer, “It was- I just never really apologized to her for some things I said while you were in the hospital.”

“What did you say to her?”

“It’s not important anymore.” He tucked the hair behind your ear, giving you your favorite, warm smile, but you could still see it in his eyes; He was fighting with something that he didn’t want to tell you. “Should we head back out there?”

Deciding not to press any harder in the moment, you nodded and stood from his lap, “We left all the children with Daniel, he’s probably ripping his hair out.”

You both rejoined the group and it wasn’t much longer before Jake was shooing everyone out the door, “Y/N is tired, it’s past her bedtime.” He chuckled as he pried Sam out of the hug he had you wrapped in, “Get out, Sammy. It’s time to go home.” Everybody took their turns to hug you and say their goodbyes before leaving. He closed the front door and locked the deadbolt before turning back to face you, “I’ve been waiting to get you to myself…”

“So… The funny thing is- I’m actually tired.” You scrunched your nose at him as you spun around to head to the bedroom, “You need to shower.” You stated it plainly before disappearing down the hallway. You changed into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt and climbed into bed. Jake passed the doorway on his way to the bathroom. He showered fast to join you in bed as quickly as he could, “You didn’t have to rush, baby.” You rolled over to face him as he slipped beneath the comforter.

His hair was still wet, soaking into his pillow as he laid down, “I didn’t want you to fall asleep without me…” He lifted his arm, allowing you to snuggle into him.

You drew circles over his abdomen with your index finger, “Jake, you don’t have to keep worrying about the dreams… I’ll call that therapist tomorrow.” You felt him hum in approval and press a kiss to the top of your head. The darkness and the quiet of the night lured Jake to sleep quickly and you listened to his gentle breaths, waiting for the calm to take you as well while pondering how to fix the trauma on your own. Unfortunately, the only answer you could come up with was going to the source and she was the last thing you wanted to deal with…

_____________________________________________

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fall asleep. It wasn’t Jake’s snoring or the dreams keeping you awake this time, it was the deep rumble in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, but it was persistent. You looked over at Jake, making sure he was definitely sleeping, before carefully sliding out of the bed. You padded into the kitchen, keeping your footsteps light on the hardwood, and flipped on the light above the sink before heading into the pantry. Unsure of what you even wanted, you started piling things into your arms. Peanut butter, a bag of pretzels, a pack of chicken ramen; everything made your stomach growl harshly. You left the pantry and placed your findings on the island to go to the fridge and gather more random items. A bag of carrots, a variety of cheeses and a few other things, later, and you were hoisting yourself up on the island. Crossing your legs beneath you, you leaned over to pull a drawer open, grabbing yourself a spoon. You spun the lid off the peanut butter, taking a heaping spoonful and giving it a few licks before reaching for the carrots. Dragging a baby carrot through the creamy peanut butter, you chomped on it, crunching loudly with a delighted hum. You moved on, indulging in different food combinations, each one oddly better than the last.

You had a slice of mango on top of a cool ranch dorito, mid bite, when the kitchen illuminated with the overhead light, “Y/N, what are you doing?” Jake was rubbing his eyes as he took in the scattering of food surrounding you, “It’s after two in the morning, love.”

“I couldn’t sleep…” You mumbled in defense, plopping the rest of the fruit and chip into your mouth, “He was hungry, daddy.” You poked your lip out as you rubbed your belly.

He tried to fight the smile creeping over his lips as he crossed the room to you, “Well, when his cravings make momma sick, I don’t wanna hear it.” Jake leaned on the counter, observing the weird buffet, “Are you really eating all of this?” He reached for the pile of pretzels sitting beside you.

“Baby, I wouldn’t-.”

His hand recoiled, a look of disgust on his face, “Why are they wet?!” He wiped his hand over your sweatpants.

You giggled sheepishly, “We don’t like pretzels anymore, just the salt.”

“You’re just sucking the salt- Why not just eat table salt, Y/N?” He was gazing at you like you were from another planet.

“First of all, that’s gross. The pretzel salt has a pretzel taste, table salt is only good with tequila, Jacob.” You picked your small paring knife up and cut another sliver of mango, “You have to try this, baby…” Placing the slice on a paper towel, you drizzled it with sriracha and honey before stabbing it with a fork and offering it to Jake.

“I’m not eating that.” He was shaking his head vigorously, “You shouldn’t eat that. You really are gonna make yourself sick.”

Pulling the fork to your mouth, you took a bite of the fruit, “Oh hush. I feel fine and this is delicious.” You took the rest from the fork, doing a little happy shimmy as you chewed, “It’s even better with a dorito…oooh! and cream cheese with lemons is also really good, babe.” You reached for the last slice of lemon on the countertop but he snatched it from your fingers and put it back down.

His mouth dropped into a grimace, “Alright, that’s enough. It’s bedtime.” He grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the island and helping you down, “I’ll clean up. Go brush your teeth and then straight to bed.” Jake pointed to the kitchen doorway, shooing you off.

“God, you’re such a buzzkill, dad…” You rolled your eyes before turning away, earning yourself a light tap on the ass, “Hurry up, I’m tired.” You rounded the doorway and headed for the bathroom to follow Jake’s instructions. When you entered the bedroom, he was already tucked back into bed, waiting for you, “You put the fridge stuff away and left everything else, didn’t you?”

He held his hand out for you with a sleepy smile, “It’s almost three now. I’ll clean the rest up tomorrow.” Once you slipped your fingers over his palm, he pulled you down on top of him, hugging you to his body, “I love you, baby. You know that, right?” His voice was quiet, meant only for you and no other thing, living or not, in the universe, “This life that we’ve built- that we’re building… I still can’t believe we’re starting a family, Y/N.”

“We already have a family, Jake, we’re just expanding it with a little piece of us.” You snuggled into him, pressing your nose into his cheek, “He’s gonna have the best uncles and grandparents and, most importantly, the absolute greatest daddy in the world.” You squeezed your arms around him as you kissed his jaw, “I can’t wait to see all the things you teach him, baby… Do they make tiny SG’s for little baby hands?”

“I don’t think they do, my love.” He placed a lingering kiss on your forehead with a chuckle, “He might not want anything to do with music, maybe he’ll wanna be a chef like his momma, take over the family business.” Turning his head, he stared up at the ceiling, deep in his thoughts.

You watched Jake’s smile grow, lighting up his eyes, and it made your heart swell but your anxiety was still poking at your brain, “What are the chances we don’t completely fuck this up, Jake?” You rolled off of him and onto your back, now staring at the ceiling as well, “What if I’m like…the worst mom? What if I get everything wrong?”

“Hey.” He rolled over, cupping your cheek to make you look at him, “We’re in this together. It’s new for both of us and we’re bound to make mistakes.” His hand went to your waist, pulling you against his chest, “I have no doubt that you’ll be an amazing mom, baby.” There was a pause before he added, “And on the very slight chance that we do fuck this up, we can always do better with the second one.”

“The second one?” You went wide-eyed as you tilted your head to look at him, catching his dimple as he tried to hide his smirk, “Okay, Jakey… I need some sleep before we get into that conversation.” He rolled away to turn the lamp off and came right back to his place, holding you against him once more. You snaked an arm over him before giving his lips one single peck, “I love you too, by the way.”

_____________________________________________

You sat at the small table in the corner, checking the time on your phone. You hated lying to Jake, hated that he had no clue what you were doing. When you couldn’t sleep, most of your tossing and turning in bed was accompanied by thoughts of the conversation you had with Odessa. But what if you can get her to admit it? You weren’t willing to use Jake. There was no way you could involve him in anything to do with her… So when you woke up and texted Sage to meet you today, you knew you needed an excuse to give Jake. “Baby, I’m just gonna get a ride into the city, I wanna grab a coffee and pick a few things up.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were sitting in a cafe right now, sipping a coffee. It just wasn’t the whole truth. He tried to argue, tried to tell you he would drive you, but you declined, telling him that you just wanted some time to yourself. He relented, watching you from the porch as you walked down the driveway and got into the back of an Uber. Now you waited. Would she show up? You checked the time again before opening up the text thread and reading back over your message.

You 8:05am: I’m giving you one chance to talk. I’ll be at the coffee shop at 10. You know which one. I’ll wait until 10:15.

It was 10:11pm when you put your phone down and looked up to see her coming through the door. She paused to look for you before slinking between other tables to get to yours.

She sat across from you, a weary look on her face and a rush in her words, “Why am I here, Y/N?” She was looking around the area, searching for something.

“If you’re looking for Jake, he’s not here.” You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “As for why you’re here, I just want to talk.”

She scoffed, almost like she was annoyed, “Talk about what? You have a restraining order against me, I could get in trouble for being here.”

“Of all the fucking damage you caused… That’s what you’re worried about?” Your disbelief was evident, “Why won’t you stop?” You stared at her, waiting for an answer, but she refused to meet your eyes, “After everything you’ve done, you owe me an explanation. Why us? Why me, Sage?”

“Because you don’t deserve him.” She finally lifted her head to look at you, tapping her fingers on the table, “You made it easy.” Her face showed no signs of remorse, “All I had to do was flirt, feed you a few lines… You were hooked the minute you saw me.”

“I don’t deserve him?” You sat up, resting your elbows on the table to really look at her, “You think you deserve him, Sage? Think you can make him happier?” You cocked an eyebrow at her, tilting your head.

A humorless laugh dripped from her mouth, “At least he would be enough for me, Y/N. I don’t need the attention of all of his brothers or people I meet in bars. I only need him.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “Wow, you won’t let that one go, huh?” You picked up your coffee, taking a sip as you shook your head, “You know I didn’t sleep with either of them. I’m sure you’d have the proof if I did, but you don’t… You’ve been lingering in the background for months, just hoping to catch me doing whatever it was you suspected.” You leaned in close, dropping your voice low, “And when there was nothing to show for your psycho stalking, when you realized that nothing could come between me and Jake… You snapped. You wanted me gone so that you could slither your way in. Am I getting warmer?” You could tell the smirk on your face was eating away at her.

“He left after the Josh video, though, didn’t he? How did you sweet talk your way out of that one?” She leaned in as well, clenching her jaw.

“I didn’t need to sweet talk, honey. The truth presented itself on that one. Solid try, though.” You knew you’d successfully gotten under her skin and you were ready to end the conversation with one final blow. Sliding your chair out, you stood up, looking down on her, “Despite your efforts, I have a baby to worry about now.” You lifted your left hand to examine your ring, “Oh! And a wedding to plan.” You held your hand in front of her face, “You’re the least of my worries now, Sage…but I have a feeling that I’m still the most of yours.” Grabbing your coffee from the table, you flashed her a smile and walked by her to leave. She was pissed, seething with rage, but that was exactly what you wanted. She was right where you needed her, all you had to do was wait for her to take the bait.

Sage POV

You? Worried about her? Jake doesn’t want her… She’ll never be good enough for him, you just have to make him see that. But through all of your attempts, she still manages to wiggle her way out of everything. Manages to keep him in her grasp. He doesn’t want to marry her. She just has him believing that her baby is his, but you know better. Turning in your seat, you looked out the large window, watching her climb into the backseat of what must be an Uber. You watched the car pull away from the curb, an unkempt anger bubbling through your veins, until you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You whipped your head around to see him. Jake. Your Jake. He looked sexy…Always so sexy, “Jake… What is this?” You looked around, waiting for her to come back at any second, but then his fingers were on your chin, guiding your eyes back to him.

“She left, Sage. I have to be quick, she thinks I’m at home.” He spoke softly as he dropped his hand and took a seat across from you, “I’ve been trying to get away to see you for weeks…”

Something didn’t feel right… You craned your neck, scoping out the cafe again, “What is happening? Why are you here?” Slowly, your gaze came back to him, awaiting an answer.

He reached across the table, placing his hand on top of yours, and you thought you felt it trembling, but his steady voice distracted you, “I can’t be with her anymore, I don’t love her…” His voice. Oh god, his voice was like the greatest melody ever created, “I haven’t loved her for a long time, Sage.”

Why was he admitting this to you now? What was the catch? “At the hospital, you- What you said…” You thought back to his exact words, cringing at the way he screamed at you, “You said I was demented.” Your gaze went back to the window as you watched the cars go by, but your focus remained on the feeling of his hand over yours.

“I know. I had to. Everyone was there.” He paused until you brought your eyes back to him, “She was dying… I-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing, “It would’ve looked bad if I just left her at a time like that.” He was shaking his head like his thoughts were troubling him, “It’s still hard… To leave her, I mean. She’s almost completely healed, but the baby-”

You cut him off, gripping his hand tightly in yours, “Jake, that baby isn’t yours!” You tried to keep your voice to a whisper to not draw attention to your corner, “I know in my heart it isn’t and we can find proof.”

He pried his hand from you to push his hair out of his face with a sigh, “I don’t know. She swears it’s mine, Sage. She wouldn’t lie, would she?”

“That’s all she does, babe. Just lie and manipulate and she’s not gonna stop until somebody makes her…” You took a deep breath, studying his face, his eyes, his body. Searching for any indication that he wasn’t being genuine with you before you confessed everything to him. His brown eyes were sad, you could see the pain he was fighting in them. He hated his life with her. She made him miserable. Only you could free him from it, “Jake, I need to tell you something…”

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sunshinevanfleet · 2 years ago

Text

brat - d. wagner

pairing: danny x reader

a/n: hey y'all!!! i'm back again with another fic. i'm trying to keep up with the writing and avoid some writers' block, so here's another fic. i am hardcore in danny's lane rn, and planned to write some fluff and then ended up with the exact opposite lol. so here's some enemies to lovers, hate-fuck smut with our lovely danny. he's kind of an asshole in this one and it's very sexy so pls enjoy. let me know what u think!! luv you all. (p.s. this is unedited and not proofread so excuse me for any mistakes thx ok bye)

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), enemies to lovers

word count: 4k

warnings: alcohol consumption, explicit sex scenes, unprotected sex, car sex, danny being an asshole, some light degradation, etc.

“You have got to be fucking with me.”

You barely noticed the words leaving your lips as you stood by the bar, the plastic cup in your hand crunching as you gripped it. You glanced over your shoulder at your friend; she was still distracted by the hot bartender flirting with her. Nudging her with your shoulder, she finally glanced over.

“No way, is that–”

“It is,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I’m going to fucking murder Josh Kiszka.”

Kara laughed at your words, just as shocked as you were. The bartender was forgotten, still chatting away distractedly as you two stared at the man in the doorway of the bar. The low light obscured him slightly, not to mention the blurriness of your eyes from the couple of drinks you had. But it was him, silhouetted there, all broad-shoulders and dark curly hair framing his face.

“Daniel Wagner…” Kara shook her head, taking a long swig of her drink in front of her. “Josh totally did that on purpose.”

“You think?”

“I mean, I dunno.” She shrugged. “He knows you hate each other, obviously.”

You sighed heavily. You should’ve called anyone but Josh. You should’ve spent your last ten dollars getting an uber home. It would be worth sacrificing your pretentious cold brew from the coffee shop down the street in the morning in order to avoid riding home with Danny Wagner.

“This is so fucked.” You turned around to face Kara. Danny was canvassing the crowded bar, obviously searching for you since he had been called to be your savior tonight. “I’m never calling Josh to pick me up again.”

“You should’ve expected this, Y/N,” said Kara. “Josh is always sending someone else to get you. Remember last time? He was taking fireball shots at home with Sam, so he sent Jake…”

“That’s the difference!” you hissed at her, trying not to call attention to yourself. You were beginning to panic. How were you going to survive a twenty minute drive in the car with a man you hated? “It was Jake! He’s not my–my arch nemesis!”

Kara snorted, covering her mouth as she began to laugh. “Your arch nemesis… I can’t with you. Sound like a supervillain,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m being serious.”

“You’ll be fine, Y/N,” she waved her hand halfheartedly. “At least he’s hot.”

Your features screwed up into a scowl. It felt like all of your friends were setting you up for this. The two of you never got along; he always had some snarky comment any time you said anything, and the sound of his voice hit the wrong nerve with you. Something about him was just infuriating. But he was a staple in the Kiszkas’ lives, and so were you, so you tolerated each other. Josh, however, was always trying to get you to get along. This was another one of his plots, and you knew it. You were going to strangle him.

“Oh, shit, I think he’s spotted us,” Kara said, eyes widening. She forced herself to look back towards the bartender, and sipped her drink aggressively.

You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands over your face. This would definitely be interesting. It took everything in you not to turn around and watch him saunter over, that stupid cocky look playing on his features as he realized the rest of your night was in his hands. There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to make every second a living hell.

“There you are, sweetheart,” came his voice from behind you. You resisted the urge to scream at the pretentious nickname.

You turned to face him, your face curled into the nastiest smile you could muster. “Daniel,” you said, feigning politeness. “Look who the cat dragged in.”

“Kicking and screaming,” he agreed, nodding his head. You eyed him for a second. His hair was pulled back messily, stray curls fanning his forehead and cheeks. He wore a black muscle tee and a pair of gray sweatpants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips. He must’ve been in bed when Josh called him.

“Where’s Josh?” you asked bluntly. Your two-second show of getting along was over. He was the last person you wanted to be face-to-face with right now.

“Incapacitated,” said Danny. “You know how he loves a good Friday night drinking game.”

“And you weren’t playing?”

“Nope,” he continued, “I was all cozy in my bed, going to sleep early. Then Josh calls me to come rescue the princess, so here I am.”

You rolled your eyes. With a huff, you decided not to push the subject any further. If you ignored him, maybe the next half hour would go by in a flash. Next time, you’d be calling your Mom before you called Josh to come pick you up. Unreliable little shit.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” you said under your breath.

Standing from the bar, you grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder. You shoved your phone inside, and said a quick goodbye to Kara. She smiled sweetly at the both of you as you left. Danny led you out into the warm night air, where his car was waiting.

“Don’t look so miserable, sweetheart,” he said, a twinge of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, tone laced with venom. You had never met anyone with such a smackable demeanor, someone so hell-bent on pestering you until you broke.

“What? Not happy to see me?”

You wrinkled your nose. Ducking into his car, you dropped your bag on the floor and kicked off your heels. In the back of your mind, you wished you drank a little more before you left. Danny’s presence was a wonderfully effective buzzkill.

“Well, don’t get your panties in a twist. You don’t have to see me for too long,” he said, grinning.

“My panties are perfectly untwisted,” you said haughtily. “Can you just shut up for the next twenty minutes? It’d make my life a lot easier.”

He laughed. “I’m not here to make your life easier.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”

You could feel the smugness radiating off of him as he pulled away from the bar. You wished you could hitch a ride with Kara, but you knew her boyfriend was picking her up and they would be nearly as insufferable as this car ride with Danny. It was quiet for a moment, but you knew he would be back to bugging you any minute now. You merely hoped you didn’t explode once it started.

He reached between you, flicking the radio on to kill the silence between you. The station was set to something hard-rock. The drums and guitar blaring through the speakers were really starting to worsen the headache threatening to come on.

“Can you turn that off, please?” you asked, glaring at him.

“No, I like this song,” Danny said, reaching over to increase the volume.

Your face flushed with anger.

“I have a headache, Daniel,” you said bitterly. “At least turn it down.”

But he was steadily cranking the volume up, up, up. The grin on his face was only widening. Your head pounded, both from the drinks and the immeasurable rage coursing through you.

“What?” he shouted. “I can’t hear you!”

You half-groaned, half-screamed, and reached over to pull his hand away from the volume. You knew you looked like a crazy person, and you didn’t care. He laughed as you pushed his hand away from the radio. You muted it without a second thought.

“My head is fucking pounding,” you hissed at him. “Asshole.”

“Oh I’m an asshole,” he added, chuckling. “That’s rich, coming from such a brat.”

You glanced over, and met his gaze briefly before he looked away. His eyes were dark, and slightly hooded with sleep. He really must’ve been sleeping. Your heart thundered in your chest. If you weren’t so pissed off, you might have noticed the butterflies blooming in your stomach and spreading down between your legs. There was no way that Danny Wagner insulting you was turning you on. You ignored the feeling, twisting one leg over the other and flopping back against the seat.

“You are an asshole,” you said.

“I am a perfectly nice guy.”

You snorted. “You’re fucking delusional.”

“You know it. You just don’t want to admit that you’re the instigator in this relationship,” Danny said.

“Instigator? Which one of us is constantly, intentionally, pissing the other one off?” You raised your eyebrows expectantly at him.

He grinned at you, shrugging. “Which one of us is constantly getting so worked up over absolutely nothing?”

“I’m going to ignore you, now,” you stated. You turned away from him, staring off into the distance as he drove you home. You couldn’t stand looking into those intense eyes any longer. Your thighs were clenched together so hard that they were beginning to shake. It was about time you got the hell out of this car, before shit got out of hand.

“Looks like I’m right,” he continued. “Poor little brat knows I’m right, huh?”

Brat… The word made you squirm in your seat, the brief throbbing in your core making you swallow hard. He was going to be the death of you, the gorgeous shithead sitting in the seat beside you. God, you hated how easily he could push your buttons in all the right ways. You hated to admit it, but underneath all of the outward animosity, there had always been some serious sexual tension.

“I must be really getting under your skin, huh sweetheart?”

There it was again, another one of his condescending nicknames. It felt wrong to say you were almost enjoying this. You squirmed slightly again, trying to avoid his attention. The sound of your pulse thundered in your ears. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he could tell.

“I hate you,” you muttered. Your voice was hoarse, and so quiet it was barely audible between you. You were afraid if you spoke any louder that the shake in your voice would give it all away.

“Doesn’t seem that way,” said Danny smugly. His car came to a stop at a redlight, and you turned to glance at him. He was looking at you, almost hungrily. He looked you up and down, shaking his head as the light finally turned green and he pulled off. “Can’t sit still over there, can you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act all clueless,” he chuckled. “I see you over there, squirming and writhing…” His eyes flicked down to your legs twisted together. Your skirt had ridden dangerously high up your thighs, almost enough so that your panties would be exposed shortly.

“I am not,” you hissed, uncrossing your legs and pulling your skirt down. Your face flushed red, and you prayed he couldn’t see it in the dim light.

“Are too,” his voice was tinged with amusement. “Bet that little pussy’s just throbbing when I call you brat.”

His words sent a jolt up your spine, and you knew he could see your red face now. Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He laughed darkly at this.

“You know I’m right.”

You swallowed the planet-sized lump in your throat, trying to figure out how to breathe again. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that?

“I– Danny, what–” You were lost for words. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as you rode the last two minutes to your house. He seemed to be completely focused on the road, not paying you any mind as you sat there in complete shock. What the fuck was going on?

The car came to a stop in your driveway with a jolt. There was a short pause, where the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. Then, without a word, Danny leaned his seat back, and you caught the hint.

You climbed across the center console and straddled him with all the ease of a professional. He leaned up and caught your lips in a heated kiss. It was hot, and messy– all lips and teeth gnashing and saliva everywhere. His hands had fallen to your ass, bunching your skirt up around your hips and kneading the fleshy skin. Your own were tangled in his curls, pulling more hair loose from his bun as you pushed him down against the seat.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned against your mouth. One of his fingers teased along your panties as he squeezed your ass. There was barely any friction, but still you sighed heavily.

“Fuck,” you hissed as he dragged the finger up and down the fabric again, teasing you through your underwear. You ground your hips down against him, trying to get some kind of relief.

“What got you this wet for me, sweetheart? Hmm?” His lips traveled down your neck, sucking the skin hard as he left bruises behind. You rutted your hips against him again, desperately as he continued teasing you. “This sweet little pussy loves it when I call you my brat, huh?”

His deep, silky voice sent a jolt through your body. You needed him so bad. To touch you, to taste you, to fuck you. Anything at this point. You couldn’t take the sound of him teasing you anymore. You needed him to destroy you.

“Fuck, Danny, stop teasing me, please,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Two of his long fingers swept past your panties and swirled against your soaking wet core. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head at the feeling of it.

“Teasing you is the best part,” he said breathily. His lips skirted across your collarbones, nipping harshly at the skin. You were going to be fifty shades of purple come the morning, but you didn’t care. You wanted his mouth–his teeth– on you, everywhere.

You grunted, swirling your clothed center against his bulge and fingers again. It was almost pure bliss, having two of his fingers prodding your entrance and his clothed bulge dragging against your clit. You knew you could cum like this, but you wanted him, all of him desperately.

His fingers finally pushed into your soaked cunt, and you moaned loudly. Your face flushed with embarrassment; it had been so long since you’d been fucked properly. The desperation in your movements made you feel something like a virgin again. You didn’t have time to worry about what Danny would think– his free hand had snaked up your body to wrap around your throat.

You gasped, throwing your head back as his fingers sank into you to the base.

“You like that? You like my fingers stretching that little cunt open?”

You nodded, clenching around him as he slowly began to thrust them in and out of you. He curled them slightly, the pads of his fingers grazing your sweet spot deliciously.

“Use your words, brat.”

“Y–yes, Danny, I–” a moan broke through as he curled his fingers more harshly, driving them into your g-spot. “Fuck, I love it.”

“Oh, you love it?” he asked, his voice amused. “C’mon, ride my fingers, then.”

You obeyed instantly, lifting yourself up and rolling your hips against his fingers. Your entire body seized as his fingers hit that spot over and over again. Your eyes were screwed shut, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as he held you up by the throat and let you fuck yourself on his fingers. Pleasure coursed through your veins; you were sure he was the best lay of your life, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Stars bloomed in your vision, and your legs began to tremble.

He breathed sharply as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers. “Feels so good, doesn’t it sweetheart? You’re so close to cumming all over my hand, aren’t you? Yeah, that tight little pussy’s gonna cream all over my fingers, isn’t it?”

You whimpered at his words. You forced your eyes open and glanced down at him, and you nearly came at the sight. His lips were raw and swollen from his assault on your neck; sweat glistened on his forehead and cheeks, his curls plastered to the skin as he watched you with black eyes. His expression dripped with pure filth– no one had ever looked at you this way. You leaned down into him, pressing your open mouth against his. You breathed his air, tasting his breath and sucking it into your lungs as if it were your own lifeforce. Your tongue darted into his mouth; you throbbed at the wet, lewd sounds emerging from the two of your mouths together. It was disgusting, and you were loving every second of it.

Chest heaving, you began to grind yourself down onto his digits, hard. You vision began to go black.

“Danny, oh my god, Danny,” you breathed, rocking against him. “I’m gonna cum, fuck me, I can’t hold on…” You were practically screaming, hoping that his car was muffling the sound of your shrill moans from the outside world.

“No, no, not yet, sweetheart…”

Your heart dropped as he dropped his hand from your throat, and grabbed you around the waist. You gasped as he pulled his soaked fingers out of you, your cunt clenching around nothing as he laughed darkly.

“Danny, what the fuck–”

He grinned. “Relax, Y/N,” he said, amused.

“But I was so fucking close,” you groaned, squirming above him as he watched you. Without saying anything, he brought his slick fingers up to your mouth and held them in front of you. You stared at him for a second, before he reached his other hand up and tapped you on the chin with his thumb. Opening your mouth, you allowed him to insert his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight; you felt his cock twitch underneath you, straining against his sweatpants. You rolled your hips against him, and he bit down on his lip with a grunt.

“You’re gonna cum all over my cock, okay? Gonna be my good girl and ride me,” he said, watching as you nodded, bobbing your lips over his fingers. You swirled your tongue around his digits hungrily, your eyes widening as you watched him pull down the waistband of his pants. His cock slapped against his abdomen. You knew from feeling it that it was bigger than average, but you never would have expected this from Danny Wagner.

“Fuck, where have you been hiding that thing?” you muttered, incredulous.

Danny laughed, taking his saliva soaked hand and wrapping it around his shaft. The tip was slightly purple, leaking shining clear precum. He spread your spit and juices over himself, groaning thickly.

“Let me,” you replaced his hand with your own, swiping your thumb over the tip. He grunted, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. You leaned forward, letting a string of saliva drip from your mouth down to his cock. You bobbed your fist up and down over him, feeling his thighs twitch as you teased him.

“Enough,” he groaned thickly, his voice deep with arousal as he reached forward to grab your wrist. “Sit on it. Now.” He commanded.

“Yes, sir,” you said snarkily, lifting yourself up and positioning your hole over the tip. You dragged the tip through your folds for a moment, soaking it in your arousal. The two of you moaned in unison, and a deep breathy groan spilled from his lips as you finally sank down onto him.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the stretch of his cock; it felt as if you were being split in half in the best way possible.

“Holy fuck,” you panted, rolling your hips slowly against him. You didn’t know how you were going to take him for very long. Your legs trembled on either side of his, and you could barely lift yourself above him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Danny grasped your chin as you stared down at him. “Need some help, baby? Need help riding my big cock?”

You nodded, “Yes, please. I can take it, please.” One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, and the other grasped his shoulder. Your nails dug into his skin as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you off of him a bit, and began to drill into you from beneath you.

You pressed your forehead against his, your mouth open in a silent scream. You couldn’t think as he set a relentless pace, barrelling into your swollen hole without abandon. Your thighs quivered and began to shake; if it weren’t for him holding you up, you would have collapsed on top of him. He was so deep, abusing your pussy as tears of sheer pleasure clouded your vision.

You felt his hips stutter beneath you, and you moved your hand from his shoulder, to his throat. “Don’t fucking stop,” you moaned, your voice cracking. “If you stop, I’ll kill you.”

He laughed throatily, his breath fanning over your face. “Oh, if I had the willpower to torture you with my cock right now, I promise you I would, sweetheart. But I’ve gotta cum in this pussy, now.”

Tears swept down your cheeks as he maintained his rhythm. Sweat poured down your face, and mingled with the dampness of your tears. You squeezed your eyes closed, your entire body shaking as you approached your release.

"Poor little pitiful thing..." he muttered. "I love seeing you cry over my cock. Feels good, huh baby? Splitting you open like that..."

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, I’m cumming, Danny– Oh, motherfuck–” Your voice was cut off by the heaving breaths breaking from your throat. Your cunt tightened around Danny’s thick length, squeezing deliciously as he fucked you straight through your orgasm. Your entire mind was blank, your vision cloudy as you slumped against him. But he wasn’t done with you; his pace was more relentless than ever as he chased his own high. You used the last of your energy to meet his thrusting, pushing him closer to the edge.

“Almost there,” he whispered, his features twisted in focus as you fucked down onto him. You rocked your hips, swirling around on his cock. His mouth fell open, and his features screwed up in pleasure. A strangled moan fell from his lips, and you felt his hot cum shooting inside of you, staining your walls. He came with a deep groan of your name, and you throbbed around him.

You whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out of you, his strong arms still holding you above him. Gently, he released your waist, and you slumped down onto his chest. The two of you were covered in sweat, sticky and smelling distinctly of arousal. Around you, the windows of his car had fogged up enough that you could barely see out of them.

“You okay?” Danny asked quietly as you rolled back into your own seat, pressing your back against the door. You were still panting, your skirt hitched up around your hips. Your panties had been ripped to shreds in the process, threads dangling from your thighs. Absent-mindedly, you struggled to remove them.

“I’m good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried your best to fix your appearance.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, sounding almost sorry.

“It was a good cry.” A laugh fell from your lips, and you were glad to see him smile. A real smile this time. Not the shit-eating grin you were used to.

“Want me to walk you up?” He nodded towards the door to your house, slowly becoming visible through the fogged up windows.

You nodded. “Sure,” you said. “Think I might need you to carry me after that.”

“I can manage that. If you can do me one favor in the morning…”

“And what would that be?”

“Tell Josh I said thanks for calling me,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, shut up,” you reached over and smacked him on the chest, then shook your head as he ducked out of the car. What were you going to do with him?

#danny x reader #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner imagine #danny wagner smut #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fic #gvf imagine #gvf x reader #gvf fic #gvf smut #my writing #greta van fleet #queue are my special

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elphiej · 8 months ago

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Be My Light - Chapter 10: An Act of Trust

*Genre: Mafia, Angst, Slow burn, eventual smut

*Warnings: Mentions of drugs, language, anxiety

Authors Note: How has it been so long? It's been a bit of a tough time but I have returned to my happy place. I hope you enjoy this look into the Magic Shop. I copy and paste the Tag List, so for those who no longer wish to be in it, I completely understand. Please just message me and I'll remove you. For any new interested readers who would like to be apart of the Tag List, same thing. Please just be patient with me. I'm on new any depressants and will be trying my very best to keep up with this. No matter what, I will never stop this fic and I will try my best to make any wait worth it. Feel free to drop a like, comment, or anything. Also posted on AO3 under the same name, Enjoy!

Tag list: Tag list: @lolalalooo, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine, @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22, @weiinihao, @hemmofluke, @rainbow-zebra-unicorns, @joyfullyobsessed-blog, @elvencantation, @thefreddieman, @whateveritis616, @crewzie-chan, @wyomingphantom, @killbillv1, @kyrah-williams, @utterlynutters, @ot7jellostan, @zahraaelamira, @shesaysweirdthings, @toriluvsfics, @emu007, @zae007live

Chapter 10: An Act of Trust.

This is incredible, you found yourself repeating as you followed Taehyung through the Magic Shop.

The mansion was the prime example of the phrase ‘never judge a book by its cover’. Though, if you were being completely honest, Bangtan had shown many examples of that phrase the more you were around them. Where the outside of the Magic Shop was foreboding, broken, and cold, the inside was warm, modern, and inviting. And so well maintained. For a group of young men, the place was immaculate. You thought back to when Jin and Jungkook had cleaned your apartment on the first night and decided that you really shouldn’t be surprised. As you looked about the passing rooms, they were beautifully decorated in a modern style that really complimented everyone and the structure.

Taehyung had, first, led you down the spiral staircase under the front foyer into what you assumed were the old service areas. Now, it was an expansive garage lined with a vast variety of vehicles. You recognized the truck that Jin had driven you home in, the silver sports car that Taehyung had picked you up in that first day, and the town car that you had just been in. Heuning Kai waved at the two of you from his place by the town car, polishing it to look as new. You looked down the rows in awe. As you took in the fleet of cars, you started to understand that you had vastly underestimated how much money Bangtan must have had. But were all of these bought or were they spoils of the job? Or were some of them stolen? You were really trying not to think so poorly of your hosts, but could it really be helped?

“Nice, huh?” Taehyung crossed his arms with pride as he leaned against a very nice looking black two-door car. He nodded over towards the familiar pickup truck. “That was the first truck we bought back in the early days. We lived off of cheap ramen and stolen veggies, but it was worth it. Jin put a lot of hardware into it over the years. He stayed up a lot of nights reading mechanic books to make it work for us. Now we’re able to hire mechanics who will follow whatever design and dream he can think up to help us. Like bulletproof glass and exteriors, homing beacons, storage and seats that fold down so we can use the space for anything. They, even, have this feature that sends an alert to all of our phones if the vehicle’s ever in an accident so we can get to each other.”

“I suppose Jin thought of everything, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung smiled a huge boxy grin. “Jin-hyung is all about keeping us safe. He’s like the mom of our family. He’s always taken such good care of us.”

As your eyes roamed across the row of vehicles, your eyes caught sight of a sleek, black motorcycle in the farthest corner of the garage. You had always wanted to ride on one ever since one of Amber’s friends came by the hospital to show his new one off. But you had always been too scared to ask to ride along; working in the ER would do that to a person.

“Like that? That’s Jungkookie’s, He always wanted one. And Yoongi-hyung and Jiminie bought it for him as a graduation present to encourage him to finish school. He was so excited when he went to go pick it out. It’s his favorite thing. Seems like you like it too. I’m sure if you ask him, he’d take you on a ride. As long as he doesn’t combust from shyness. I’d suggest you wait until you’ve been around him more before you ask him.”

“Oh no,” you said, turning back towards Tae. “I don’t think that would be very smart. Do you know how many cases in my ER are from motorcycle accidents? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You were sure by the look on Taehyung’s face that he could hear the disappointment in your tone as you tried to fool yourself.

He smiled. “You know that is the same argument that Jin-hyung said when it was brought home. But I know I have a picture of them riding on it together.”

Taehyung, then, led you out of the garage. As you ascended the spiral stairs back into the front foyer, you were taken down the hallway where Namjoon had appeared towards the kitchen. The hallway was lined with what looked like framed family portraits of Bangtan throughout the years. There were some of them all together dressed all nice, and a few of them in random units posed in fun ways. It was interesting to see how they grew and changed over the years. But it was, also, sad to see how young they were. You paused in front of what appeared to be their first family photo. Where the other photos were in suits or business casual attire, their first picture looked as if they had watched too many hip-hop music videos. Dressed in fake basketball jerseys and hats, or in layered phony designer shirts and too much eyeliner, they looks so young and inexperienced. You almost didn’t recognize Namjoon with his crazy hair and dark glasses, or Jimin with his very tanned skin and shaggy black hair. And Jungkook looked like he had barely started puberty with his round doe-eyes. It really made you wonder what could cause such young kids to turn to gang life. Yoongi and Namjoon you understood since Yoongi had explained his side to you. But were all their stories the same? You had to figure out how to ask them.

The kitchen looked like it belonged to a showroom with top-of-the-line appliances set against stunning marble counter tops. You imagined this is what a world class chef would want. It was beyond clean and spacious with a large capacity refrigerator and freezer, a fully stocked wine cabinet that almost reached the ceiling, a huge stove and dual ovens, and a large island that could be used for anything. Off the main part, set against a large set of windows that overlooked a courtyard in the middle of the Magic Shop, was a cozy breakfast nook and a fully stocked coffee bar that could meet the needs of the pickiest of coffee drinkers. There were a few different machines for different types of coffee, syrups, stirrers, and different sugars. The enticing smell of whatever Namjoon had made still permeated the room.

The only thing that was missing was the staff to man such a space. Perhaps they had the morning off?

Taehyung opened up the fully stocked cabinets, pantry, and fridge to show off their contents and told you to that you would help yourself to anything whenever you wanted.

“We always make extra so you can have whatever. Or, if you would rather cook something for yourself, by all means. But since one of us will be with you, we may offer to do it.”

“You all cook?” You remembered the amount of food Jin had ordered the first night for you and figured that’s what they did regularly.

“Some of us do,” he remarked with a shrug. “Namjoon-hyung can only really make coffee. And my skills are a bit limited. But the others are really good at it. We always leave leftovers if we are out late on missions for the other. We try to have family dinner when we are all together. And we talked about letting you come too, since you’ll be here for a while. If you want, that is. But trust me, you’re gonna want to.”

“So, you make your own food? I would expect a place like this would come with a fleet of cooks since you all would be…busy.”

Taehyung laughed. “You would think so. But we are pretty self-sufficient. Other than our hired Army, we don’t really have a staff full time. I mean, there are two mechanics that come to tune up the cars every month, a couple ladies who come in to do a deep clean every three months or so, and Jin brings in a couple helpers once in a while when he’s stuck in whatever he’s working on. But that’s only a very few very trusted people. They’re all older locals though who we’ve helped over the years, so we know they won’t betray us. It’s just safer if we keep it low. When we bring in new people, it’s blind like how we did with you. Not that we don’t trust you. I mean…” Taehyung started trying to figure out how to better explain it.

“It’s alright. I understand. I am a stranger to you guys. Despite how many card games I’ve beat you at or coffee dates you take me on.” You smiled as your little joke seemed to ease the tension. “It makes sense really. It’s better to be cautious. If anything happens to me, I wouldn’t be able to say anything even if I could.”

“Hey,” Tae brought his hand to your shoulder, face very serious, “nothing is going to hurt you here. I trust you. Call it my superpower, but I can read people really well. All the years on the street do that to a person. You are a good person. Otherwise, we would have blindfolded you before you stepped out of the car. Everyone agreed to welcome you in our home not just because of all you’ve done for Hyung. We could have just set you up in a safe house if I thought you were up to something.”

You were sure he was being genuine with you. He did seem like he was going very beyond the bare minimum he needed to do had it been some other person. You knew he was trying to make you feel safe and comfortable in this whole situation. They were doing so much for you, you just needed to allow yourself to relax and not think about all the other things. You tried to ignore the dark cloud that kept coming up the second you started to forget their profession and focus on the person.

From the kitchen, you were lead to the outside courtyard. It must have been intended to be a beautiful event space in its conception. There were moss covered statues, an elegant fountain surrounded by ivy covered iron benches, and beautiful plants that brought so much color to the space. Above, there was a façade that looked like a tapered roof covered in ripped tarps that Tae explained let in a lot of light and rain but kept anyone or thing from seeing inside. Bangtan had really thought of everything to keep the Magic Shop secret. Across the courtyard and through another door, you were shown an impressive gym with an attached studio that Taehyung explained was used for combat training, dance practice, or anything they wanted. Next to that was a shower, steam room, and a large indoor swimming pool. All of which was fair game for you to use if you wanted to.

After that, the excited man showed you what he deemed ‘the living space’. Up the stairs to the second floor, there was a massive formal dining room, a small library that you really wanted to explore, a small infirmary, a game room, and some office used for whatever they wanted to work on privately. He pointed to another staircase and mentioned that some of their bedrooms were up on the third floor and so were Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s personal workspaces. Jin’s workspace was in the basement, while Jungkook’s room and personal gaming room was on the attic floor with Taehyung’s art studio. There was so much space in this house that you began to wonder if there was a map so you wouldn’t get lost. Before you could try to remember how to get back to the last room, you found yourself in an expansive living room. You figured this may be where you’d be spending a majority of your time. The room was open design with a massive L-shaped couch that seemed like it could fit more than seven, sleek coffee tables, two elegant armchairs with oversized ottomans, and a few beanbag chairs stacked in a corner. Mounted to the wall was a huge flat screen television and on either side of it where towering shelves full of movies, tv series, music, and video games to last a lifetime. There were multiple gaming consoles stacked neatly on top. And on the far wall, there was a small mini fridge, a cupboard with snacks, and a small bar. It was homely and comfortable.

“We spend a lot of our down time together in here,” Taehyung said, smiling at your awed expression. “It’s probably one of my favorite rooms, besides my bedroom.”

“I can see why. It has pretty much everything in here. It’s bigger than my apartment. Well, this house is so large it’s a wonder how you can find anyone in here. I still haven’t seen Jimin, Jungkook, or Jin. I feel like I could walk right past them in here and never know it.”

“Well, Jin is on the basement level working on something. We won’t need to go down there. There is nothing there that’d interest you. Honestly, it’s a bit more confusing to get down there anyway so just try to stay on the first two floors. But. he’ll come up for lunch in a while. Since I didn’t see Jungkook in here or the gym, my guess is that he is probably still in his room. He was up late last night playing video games and is most likely still sleeping. But if ever in doubt, always start looking for him in the gym or where his games are. As for Jimin, I’m not sure where he is. He was excited for you to come to the Magic Shop. I thought he would meet us in the front or outside. That was his plan anyway. Something might have come up. I’m sure we’ll see him at lunch. Oh yeah, there’s someone else I want you to meet. Now, where is he?”

Suddenly, while you were distracted by some of the framed, less staged photos on the wall, something small and fuzzy ran across your foot. You shrieked and it took everything in your body to keep from kicking at whatever it was as you fell back into one of the armchairs. Taehyung let out a loud laugh that filled the space and had him holding his sides.

“Tannie! There’s my baby boy.” You turned over the chair to watch him stoop over and pick up a small black and brown Pomeranian puppy. The puppy yipped happily and gave his owner sloppy kisses that Tae returned. “I was wondering where you had gotten off too. Such a silly boy. You shouldn’t scare our guest like that. She’s a nice girl, the one I told you about. Say you’re sorry.”

The puppy let out a big yawn. You weren’t sure if that was the apology Taehyung was expecting.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that. I’ve been a bit jumpier than usual. I wasn’t expecting such a tiny thing to come running at me. You guys never mentioned that you had a dog.”

“I didn’t? That doesn’t sound like me. I could have sworn I had talked about him a few times back in the hospital.” If you were honest, he might have. But there were plenty of times when you were fighting your many battles about trusting them that you tuned out most of the conversations. “This is Yeontan. He’s only eight months old. You don’t mind dogs, do you?”

“No, I like all animals. He’s very cute,” you pushed off from the chair and stepped a bit closer. When Taehyung held the small dog out to you, you reached over and lightly scratched him behind his fuzzy ear. Yeontan let out a happy noise and licked your hand. You laugh a bit. “He’s so sweet. But I’ll be honest. I would never have suspected someone like you to have such a tiny dog.”

“Oh, sure. I get that. Jungkookie keeps saying we should get a Doberman as a guard dog. That would definitely fit our image better. But I could never replace Tannie. He’s all mine.” Taehyung hugged the puppy close, and it warmed your heart. “I’ve always wanted a little dog ever since I was a kid. But a bad home life made it difficult. But all the guys pulled together and helped me get this little guy as a present. And I sold a few pieces in order to save up for classes so I could better take care of him. I wanted to be the best owner for him.”

The way that Taehyung spoke and interacted with the dog was such a juxtaposition to the wicked mafia persona you had figured hid beneath. It was so cute that you could only wonder if someone would ever treat you with the same amount of affection. Had you not known about that side of his life, you’d swear he was just this lovable guy with a large heart. Though, something he had said gave you pause.

“Save up? I feel like you all have more money than I can even imagine. I mean,” you made a grand gesture to the room, “why would you need to save up for anything?”

“I’m sure it seems that way. Sure, we’re pretty well off. But when we first started, we were so poor, we didn’t have enough money to eat. We stole from the gas station just to eat once a day. And when we started out, we were nobodies, so it wasn’t like we were making anything. Whatever we did earn from gang activities went to important things like medicine and renting a room for the night, so we didn’t have to sleep on the street. Then, it went towards necessities, like weapons for protection or clothes so we wouldn’t freeze in the winter. Or bail when we got caught by the police. So, to ensure we would be able to make it and not be picked off by the other gangs, we got day jobs. Namjoon worked the gas station we stole from to make it up to the old man who owned it, Yoongi-hyung was a delivery boy, and Hobi-hyung and Jimin worked at a dance studio. Kookie and I found ways to help. The only one who had any money was Jin-hyung. His family was loaded. When I first met Jin-hyung, before I met the others, he was a student, and I was a street kid just trying not to go home. I saw him at a bus stop I used to tag all the time. He said my work was cool and just like a puppy, I started hanging around him. He fed me and even tried to teach me what he was learning since I dropped out. Then we met the others and Jin-hyung was using his money to help us. But when his father learned who he was hanging around, he cut him off. Until he was able to black mail his father.”

“But,” Taehyung continued, seeing how off topic he was getting, “the point was, we always had other ways to get money that weren’t gang related. Even now, as big as we are, we still have little side jobs we do. It breaks up the monotony and gives us a little bit of an escape. What we earn from gang activities belongs to Bangtan; the upkeep of the house, paying Army, hospital bills, and our equipment. Anything we earn from our side hustle is ours for our own pleasure. That dance studio that Jimin and Hobi-hyung worked at, they now own. Jungkookie competes in videogame competitions and films himself playing games on the internet. Jin continues his family business, without his actual family. And Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung did music underground back in the day before all the gang stuff, and they still do. They write and produce demos and sell them. You’ve probably heard a few of their stuff. And we all help them sometimes. We joke that if we weren’t in this line of work, we’d probably be a world-renowned band. Funny huh?”

Wow, you thought as you tried to process what he had just told you. There is so much more to these guys than I thought. How can they be this down to earth?

“And what do you do?”

“I told you that I used to be a street artist, right? Nothing too special; just tagging and doing funny graffiti. But the others really inspired me to keep going. Hell, Namjoon got arrested with me when I was attempting to improve some offensive street art someone left outside one of our favorite places just because he wanted to see me improve myself. Now, I’ve moved to a bunch of different mediums; I’ve tried charcoal, photography, drawing, and painting. I took all of those pictures,” he said pointing to the walls. “It’s pretty easy to find a muse when you have a great support system. Here let me show you some of my pieces.” He took your hand and led you out of the living room with a bounce in his step.

He took you up the stairs and to his art room. You were fairly positive that this was not supposed to be part of the tour since this was where their more private spaces were. But the look on Tae’s face when he showed you his art room was enough to show you that he was very excited to show off his work to you. The room had hardwood floors and walls covered with different sizes of framed pictures of different famous artists that he admired. The room was loaded with supplies like stacks of canvases, drawing supplies and paints, different cameras, and drop clothes to protect the floor. There was a small couch and chairs that you recognized from some of the family portraits. He went over to a desk and grabbed a book. It was labeled Vante, which you remember used to be his street artist name before he shortened it to V for his gang related work. He flipped through the book and handed it to you when he found what he was looking for. There were pictures of different art pieces he had made. Each page had photos of the progression and the finished product with handwritten notes next to it as to when it was sold and for how much. The numbers made your eyes widen. There were things that you would expect to see in a museum. You were speech-less.

He grabbed your hand once again and led you out of the studio and into the hallway. There were some more pieces hanging throughout the hallways, those he wouldn’t part with. There was one that was so breathtaking; it was a black and gray background, with a single light source from up center. In the center of the spotlight was a dancer clad in white, whose body was carved through shadows and face shown pale in the light, eyes closed in a serene way as if he was lost in the music you couldn’t hear. His arm was extended up to the light like a ballet dancer, so graceful. His hair, a steely blue, and the gathering shadows accentuate his sharp yet delicate features. And the more you looked at it, the more you began to realize that you had seen this person before.

It was Jimin.

As you were led to more art pieces, you started to realize that Taehyung had used Bangtan in many of them. They were breath taking. Not only were they all so good-looking, but the way Taehyung painted or photographed them made them look otherworldly. Near the end of a staircase that would lead to the top floor back to the floor some of their bedrooms could be found on, you found yourself stopped in front of what you came to realize was your favorite. It was a black and white photo made to look like a painting. There were seven people in front of a white background that looked like hands reaching out for each other. Five of the seven were leaning on each other, hunched over in a dramatic way. In the center were the final two, both with their arm up, one reaching for the sky and the other grasping the first wrist afraid to slip and let go. It was so simple yet complex, so artistic. You weren’t sure how long you were staring at it until Taehyung’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“I was commissioned to make this for someone. But when it was done, I couldn’t part with it. The others loved it too. They hated that I was supposed to sell it to someone who wouldn’t understand it. So, Yoongi-hyung paid the commissioner for it, three times what he was going to pay me for it. Said he didn’t care how much the man wanted for it. It meant so much to us that it was priceless. Yoongi-hyung says it’s his favorite. I think it’s yours too.”

“It’s so beautiful. You are truly an amazing artist.”

“I have some great muses.”

Taehyung and you stood there in silence a bit more before the silence was broken by someone coming out of one of the rooms. It was Hoseok. He looked a bit disheveled and breathless as if he had just run a mile, hair no longer sleek and tidy. He closed the door softly and turned with a grin, licking his lips in some sort of victory. He clapped his hands together and started down the hall with a hop in his step.

He froze when he saw the two of you looking at him. “Umm...” he started nervously, “what are you two doing up here?”

Oh right, I’m probably not meant to be up here. That’s why he’s confused. You turned your eyes back to the floor and your shoulders started to hunch. You didn’t want to intrude on their space. You were just following Taehyung and thought it was okay. But it would seem like not everyone was alright with his idea.

Tae noticed the change in your posture and was having none of that, especially after he worked so hard to get you out of your shell to begin with. “I told you I was going to show her around the house. I was showing Y/N some of my artwork in my studio and figured I would show off the good ones. She really likes this one. I can’t say I blame her.”

Hobi looked over at the painting. “Oh yeah, it is pretty. But don’t you have a copy of it in your phone you could have shown her? I thought we were just gonna keep it to the ground floors until Namjoon-.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, arms wrapping around yourself in a nervous way. “I’m not trying to intrude. I wouldn’t have come up here unless Taehyung had brought me.”

Hoseok noticed the way your hand clenched at your clothes and how you didn’t look at him in the face. And suddenly, he felt bad. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised. We normally don’t have people up here. I wasn’t expecting you. I don’t care if you come up here. Just as long as you don’t go into any rooms without permission.”

“Well, of course she won’t, hyung. You see how nervous she is just at the thought of intruding. I just didn’t want her sitting in one room all day. Jeez, she’ll probably be hanging on the first two floors anyways. That’s where all the fun is.”

Hobi threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, Taehyungie, I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Y/N, I’m sorry. I was just surprised. It’s been a long morning.” You nodded your head in confirmation.

“Now to a better point. What were you doing?” Taehyung fixed his hyung with an accusing look and a smirk from behind you. As if I can’t guess.

Hobi frowned back at Taehyung before pushing his hand through his hair to tidy himself back up. “I was making sure Hyung went to rest and not back to work. You know how Yoongi-hyung can be when he’s away from his screens. He took some convincing but he’s asleep now in his room. And I,” he fished a key from the pocket of his jeans, “stole the key to the Genius Lab so he won’t be tempted to sneak in and work. He should be out for a few hours. He may skip lunch for now, but I’ll make sure he eats before he needs to have his next dosage for you.” He smiled brightly at you. “So, what do you think of the Magic Shop?”

“It’s incredible. You guys must have really worked hard to make it so beautiful.”

“Yeah, it took a few years to get right. But it’s been such a great sanctuary for us. Tell you what, I need to go into town for a bit. I’m sure Taehyung has told you about the dance studio if he’s showing off all his side work. I need to pick up Jimin. He apparently was called in this morning to help with some minor things but he’s not feeling too well to drive back alone. But when I get home, I’ll show you something we’ve been working on with the kids in our class. It’s really fun. Then we can all have lunch.” Hobi moved past you two, making sure to greet Tannie with a series of silly voices and pets.

Taehyung gave his hyung a confused look. “Is Minnie okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. It’s just about the end of the month. I’m sure he’s gonna try to push it off again.” Realization dawned on Taehyung and he smacked his head for overlooking it with everything going on. You didn’t ask what they meant since it really wasn’t your business. Perhaps it was just some stress related thing that focused on his time of the month. You were sure with everything going on, Bangtan must push themselves too far and that leads to poor health. If Jimin was sick, you would be happy to check him out since you were there to be an in-home care. It would give you something else to focus on. The two said goodbye and Hobi dashed down the stairs.

“Come on, let’s take Tannie out in the courtyard and I’ll show you some more of pieces on the way.

You happily followed him, chasing after the positive feeling you had earlier. Your anxieties had been growing more difficult to contain. It must be because you weren’t taking your medicine. You were hoping Dr. Na would have been helpful in finding out what it was so you could get back on track. But with everything that happened back at the hospital, you hadn’t been so lucky. You didn’t even turn in the script he had given you for a mild antianxiety medication to take in its place because you were still so mad at him and hurt. And yet, here you were with the people who ruined him for you, acting like they were your friend. All these feelings and emotions were confusing.

As you arrived back on the second floor and at the landing of the familiar staircase, you both could hear someone walking around, pacing by the sounds of it. At first, you thought it was Hoseok again, but Namjoon’s voice could be heard just a harsh whisper. Whoever he was talking to, he was not happy about something.

“I can’t believe you are trying to blow me off right now. How is that fair? My family needs security. Didn’t you say it would only take you a few hours? I know I got the dates mixed up but that shouldn’t matter to you. If you haven’t noticed, my family’s been in a bit of chaos recently and you were supposed to help ease some of my tension with information. At least tell me what you do have. What do you mean you aren’t done with your initial check? Why isn’t it done? I’m sure you’re busy, but you owe me!” The closer the two of you got to the stairs, the more you could pick up the frustration in Namjoon’s voice. He walked from a hallway near the bottom of the stairs, phone raised to his ear. He had changed from his morning clothes into a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, something more presentable. He didn’t seem aware of the two of you, so engrossed with his conversation. His eyes were narrow behind his glasses. He was agitated in a way you hadn’t seen since he saved you from Choi the first time. And you were not a fan of seeing him angry. “You said you’d come today and now you’re flaking out on me when I need you? That’s really great, Jackson. No, I am not overreacting. I trusted my gut to a point, but I need hard facts here. I needed them yesterday. Just go with it? Jackson, they’re in my house now, and you’re telling me to go with it?! No, two days is not okay! Don’t make me chase you down, you son of a bitch.” He let out a growl that didn’t fit with his current image. Taehyung didn’t like how mad his leader was getting. The younger knew full well what Namjoon was so angry about and he wished he hadn’t used a flighty character like Jackson to do something Tae could have easily done. But he knew that Namjoon needed an outsider’s opinion. “Fucking fine, how long? You better be here in two days or so help me…,” he let the person on the other end of the phone fill in the blank before he ended the call with a huff.

Taehyung took the opportunity to clear his throat to announce your presence, which startled Joon more than he would have liked. It took him a second before he let his emotions slip back behind the mask of a calm leader you had come to expect. You were aware that Tae was standing closer to you than before, like he was securing your place next to him.

“Everything ok, hyung?”

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t see you there. How much did you hear?”

“Just you getting mad. But don’t worry, it’s all good.” You gather that Taehyung knew exactly what Namjoon was wanting from this Jackson person but didn’t want to explain it to you. He grabbed your hand with his free one and pulled you down the stairs. “Y/N got to meet Tannie. We know how much he doesn’t like new people and, guess what, he likes her. How great is that? He never likes people other than you guys so quickly. He must know she’s a good person.”

You weren’t sure what else that was supposed mean, but it made the wheels in Namjoon’s head start to turn. Was that conversation about you? Did he not trust you in his home? Then why had they discussed bringing you here? He had hesitated back when Taehyung had mentioned showing you around the house. You knew they wanted to be careful, but wasn’t it their idea to bring you in? Why would he be so concerned now? You remember that he was supposed to talk to you about it before bringing you here but had forgotten. Was it more than just easing you into this that he wanted to talk about? Maybe this was a mistake? Or were you just overthinking things again?

“Well, I’m taking Y/N to the courtyard. Don’t let Jackson mess you up. You’re smarter than him anyways. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You started to follow Taehyung back down the hall. As you passed, you could tell that Namjoon was struggling with something. If it was about you, you wanted to tell him that you would do whatever made them more comfortable, even if that meant staying in one place like you wanted to with Hoseok. But Taehyung took your hand again and gave it a squeeze, like he knew you were overthinking things again. “Wait a second,” Namjoon said, voice sounding like he had come to a firm decision.

The two of you stopped and looked back at Bangtan’s leader. He took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. And I mean it when I say welcome to our home. This is a bit new for us but considering the circumstances, this is the best option. Jin and I had been talking before about what happens when you come here, and both agree that we want you to be comfortable and not worried about anything. So, that being said, we came to an agreement about something very important. And I’ll let you decide what happens here. I know you said you want us to keep the darker side of our work away from you, and we have tried to respect that as much as possible. Being in our home may make that a bit more challenging. But we are still willing to do that if you want us to. But if you want, this may make being here a whole lot easier and may clear up some of those hesitations about us you may have,”

You were willing to listen to what he had to say. “What is it?”

“Yeah, hyung,” Taehyung said, tentatively, unsure of where this was going. “What do you mean? I don’t think we’ve talked about whatever this is.”

“We haven’t Tae. But Jin-hyung and I talked about it before and based on some gut feelings, this may be for the best for everyone. But it ultimately falls on Y/N to decide. Jin would like to say ‘hello’ to you. He’s in his lab.”

“Lab?” You had heard them mention a lab many times but you didn’t think that’s what it was. But by the way that Taehyung reacted to and, and how he had mentioned how you wouldn’t want to go down there, made you realize this was more than that.

“Namjoon-hyung, are you sure about that?”

He waved Taehyung off. “Like I said, this may make things for you much easier to understand and take some fear of us away. But if you prefer, we can just ignore it fully. But if you are willing, Jin-hyung would like to show you something in his lab. Jin-hyung does a lot of research and is working on something very important that may change how you see us. But it’s important. But if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, and we’ll keep pretending like nothing has changed. I give you control.”

You hadn’t had much control over the life you could remember. Leaving your ex and choosing to help Bangtan was really the first taste of control you had, and it was still scary. Maybe being in the dark was a good option. But them allowing you to have a say really meant a lot to you. The fear of what you would find out started to be outweighed by the prospect of clarity. But what if they were wrong? Was it better to stay in the dark? You started to wring your hands together. You had already started to change your view of them since Yoongi had talked about his past and Taehyung had showed you things you would have never thought you’d come to see from them. Was that enough to trust that Namjoon was doing what he thought was best? Looking into his eyes, you saw only patience as he allowed you time to process all the thoughts and feelings.

You took a deep breath. “I hope this goes the way you planned.”

****************************

As you followed in step behind Namjoon and Taehyung, with Yeontan held comfortably in the younger’s hand, in a darkened tunnel, you were really hoping that this would go the way Namjoon had hoped. They had taken you from the front foyer where you had started and down the same hall that led to the kitchen. You had been so had been so distracted by the pictures on the wall that you hadn’t noticed that there was an arched door to the left just before you reached the end of the hall. Namjoon pressed his thumb against a scanner on the doorknob and the sound of multiple heavy locks snapped open echoed against the walls. The door swung open to a granite stairway that was dimly lit. Namjoon had explained that this used to take guests down to the old train platform before they renovated it. When they had first taken residence, it had been so ill-kempt and dilapidated that they worried the tunnels would collapse. Most of the platforms and tunnels had been sealed and closed off. And a few that were in good condition were converted into something useful. But the biggest had been designated as Jin’s personal work area. At the bottom of the staircase, you could see the old remnants of the old train tunnels and platforms. The tunnel was dimly lit but you could still see the curve of the arched ceiling, the old support beams, the drop off from the platform to the old rail ways. Claustrophobia started to tighten its fingers around your throat, and your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag in some way to ground yourself. You were sure that anyone who had stumbled into here would have found it abandoned and unsafe. Which, in hindsight, was probably what Bangtan wanted. But you reminded yourself that they wouldn’t put you in danger. And this was supposed to help you.

Ahead of you, Taehyung and Namjoon were whispering to each other. You were trying not to eavesdrop, but you did catch that Tae seemed worried about this plan. At least he was trying to keep his promise to you and keep you away from things like this. You really did appreciate that and found yourself believing that he really was your friend here. This was a very big deviation from the plan that the two of you had agreed upon a few weeks ago. But something in the way that you caught Namjoon’s plea for the younger to trust him made you want to believe that this was to make everything better. You understood that this was a very big step for them and something that would probably never be taken into consideration. So, this had mean more than you anticipated. You didn’t want to try to imagine what you were being led to. Could it be a scare tactic to make sure you didn’t talk, or something to bribe you? Neither of those fit with the way that Namjoon had presented the option to come down here and you wanted to believe that Taehyung wouldn’t allow it. You took a deep breath to try to refocus your mind on anything else.

After a bit, as you started to wonder if there was ever an end to this dark tunnel, you could just make out the bricked-up wall that blocked the rest of the way. It was a dead-end, complete with road blockers covered in an inch of dust, caution tape that looked ancient, and crumbling stones. Another façade. Namjoon reached out to one of the broken bricks and pulled it down like it was a lever, which it was, as a door clicked. The door of bricks slid open like some secret passageway in a spy movie revealing a thick wall of steel and a flood of bright light illuminated your shocked face.

You felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole as you stepped from the dark granite onto sterile white tile. How could you still be in the same place? Taehyung had called it a basement workshop and Namjoon had called it a lab, but this was beyond what you could have imagined based on those descriptions. It was like you had stepped into some blockbuster superhero’s hideaway. The lab was large, larger than the pharmaceutical one at Mercy. There seemed to be sections where different projects were being handled. Stainless steel tables were covered with different lab equipment that looked familiar, vials filled with many different liquids and powders, microscopes of varying sizes and usages, chemical analyzers, and centrifuges of the highest quality. On a wall, there were many canisters of different drugs based on the labels you could make out, many of them you had used in the hospital. Two people in white lab coats were noting some results of something in a petri dish that you were sure you didn’t want to know what it was. Looking behind the amount of lab equipment, there was a small medical area that looked like a walk-in clinic you had visited once before coming to Central. There was an exam table, stretcher, enough emergency medical supplies that made you feel like you were back in the ER. If they had all of this at their disposal, they surely didn’t really need you around. You remembered Jin had once mentioned he had medical training and took care of the others, but you assumed it was first aid training and not actual medical training.

On the other side of the room, as clean and as well organized as the lab and medical area, was another workshop that was dedicated to all sorts of different tools and weapons of their trade. There were blueprints for a variety of items pinned to a board with notes and arrows all around them. There were multiple wide touch screens with information and numbers, molds and mockups, knives, guns, and other weapons in different ranges of finishes. You could see three or four dummies that looked as if they had been very well used. One had a vest on with bullet holes in it, another had slashes and stab marks that you dared not think about. Further back, there was what appeared to be a small shooting target lined with thick glass that you assumed was bulletproof to protect the workers. There was another person in a white lab coat and goggles who was working intently on piecing together a handgun. And in the very center of the room, sat a huge computer with four different large, active screens, was Jin. He was dressed sharply, as he always was, complete with a stark white lab coat. A pair of round silver glasses slid down his nose as he scribbled something on a notepad while looked at something dissolving in a yellow liquid. He looked like some handsome yet mad scientist at work. The glow of the screens cast a pale pallor on his skin and you could see a tiredness on his drawn features. Whatever he was working on, he must have been at it for a while, or was stressing him out a bit.

“Did I somehow stumble into the Batcave?”

“Feels like that sometimes. Jin-hyung’s like the Korean Bruce Wayne isn’t he,” Taehyung laughed.

“I think he’d prefer Tony Stark,” Namjoon remarked.

“Aren’t they the same thing,” you asked.

“I’ll ignore that since you’re cute, Darling,” Jin called out, never looking from the liquid in the beaker in his hand. “But there is a preferrable difference.”

Yeontan started squirming in Taehyung’s arms until he was placed on the tile and ran to Jin’s side. The tiny puppy jumped, trying to climb up into his lap, crying out for more attention.

“Aish,” Jin exclaimed, dropping the beaker on the table, thankfully not breaking. “Taehyung why is Yeontan in my lab?! We talked about this.”

“But he missed his Uncle Jin so much,” Taehyung smirked.

Jin rolled his eyes as he scooped up the puppy and made his way over to the three of you. He handed the puppy back to Taehyung after scratching the pup’s tiny head. “Just keep an eye on him. I don’t want to think of what he could get into.” He turned his attention to you, flashing you a warm smile. “Welcome to my lab, Y/N. I’m so glad you decided to join us down here. I promise that you won’t regret it. I was hoping to meet you when you first got here but I’ve been quite busy. I trust Taehyung has shown you the house. Though,” he fixed the younger with a sideways glance, “I see he didn’t show you where to put your stuff down and has made you carry it all this way. I know I have taught you better manners than that.”

“No, he’s been such a good host. I just never set it down. Actually, it’s been nice to hang onto,” you explained, saving Taehyung from whatever tongue lashing he was about to receive. “It gives my nervous hands something to do.”

“Ah, well, we do know a bit about anxiety and habits here. Do whatever you need to feel comfortable.” He dusted off his hands and slipped his glasses into the top pocket of his lab coat.

Up close, Jin looked just as amazing as always. Your hands tightened around the strap of your bag again, just to keep from getting overwhelmed. This was going to be a normal occurrence if they were all going to be here with you. His pink hair was combed back from his face as if he had ran his fingers through it many times while working. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a grey sweater vest, dark trousers, and polished shoes. Somehow, he always looked like he was modeling for something. Though, you did notice a bit of bruising peeking out on his collarbone.

“Are you okay? It looks like you had some issues with CrossFit too.”

Jin looked at you with a look of utter confusion. “CrossFit?”

You nodded. “Yes, Namjoon has one too. He said he got it from doing CrossFit with you. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

Jin’s eye were drawn behind you to his members, who were silently trying to communicate without drawing your attention. Joon was pointing to the mark on his own neck before making a pleading motion with his hands. Taehyung was trying to communicate their intention with his eyes as much as possible.

“Oh yeah,” Jin said, slowly, realization striking him before he slid back into his trained persona so not to arise any suspicion from you. “CrossFit. Right. Well, you know how it goes. He crossed me so I did what I saw fit.” From behind you, Namjoon seemed to choke on air and Taehyung tried his best to stifle a laugh. You turned around to see what was going on, completely confused and clearly missing something. But Jin turned your attention back to him. “Don’t worry about me, Darling. My perfect skin may be marred for the moment but I will survive. But thank you for your concern.”

“Well, it is sort of my job. Though based on what I see, you really don’t need me.”

“Nonsense! You are a professional, and we could definitely use someone with your delicate touch. Whatever you may need, you can just ask. And if I don’t have it, I will get it for you faster than any hospital could. I know many higher ups in all the companies in the country and they would leap at the chance to get in my good graces.”

Suddenly, a loud bang ricocheted off the wall and made you scream and drop your bag, spilling its contents all over the floor. Bangtan only moved from your scream. Jin’s hands came up to grasp your shoulders, steadying you and trying to reassure you of your safety. He bend down so he was able to look into your eyes and whispered assurances that you were alright. From behind Jin, the young man who had been dealing with the handgun had finished piecing it together and fired a shot at the target. He looked over at you with a surprised look on his face, not realizing someone new was in the room. Taehyung had already crossed the room and snatched the gun from the younger’s hands and stowing it away. He gave Soobin a pointed look that spoke volumes. Namjoon had stoop down to start retrieving your bag.

“Soobin,” Jin yelled over his shoulder, “you didn’t think to look up before you shot that? Or at least put a silencer on it?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the youth replied. “I’m really sorry ma’am.” He scrambled away from the work bench and over to you all to assist Namjoon in locating all of your items.

“I’m sorry, Darling, I really didn’t want something to scare you. My intention was to make this less scary for you. Here, come sit over here. Take a deep breath for me. Taehyung, can you go get her some water? Take another deep breath, Darling. Yes, just like that.”

“This was a mistake,” you said between breaths, alternating between wringing and shaking your hands to try get the tremors to stop. Your voice was cracking as you tried to keep from crying out of sheer panic. “I shouldn’t have agreed to come in here. Why did you think this would be a good idea? What was the point? To scare me into keeping your secrets?

“Absolutely not. We would never want to put you through that. We trust that you won’t say anything. This was to shed some light on what we’re actually doing here.”

Taehyung appeared next to you with a bottle of water, which you graciously took and swallowed half the bottle.

“Hyungs,” he pleaded, “maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. We wanted her to be comfortable and she asked us to hide this part of us as much as possible.”

“And we did,” Jin agreed. “Y/N, we tried. And it was easier when it was just going from your place to the hospital and back. But with you being in our house, unless we lock you up in the living room, it’s going to be hard for you not to see some aspect of our work. That’s why Joon and I had this conversation. We thought that after all the time we spent making this relationship with you that you’d trust us enough. And we thought if you saw what we are working on down here, it might clear the air and ease some of these anxieties that still plague you. But we’ve taken an unexpected turn. Just try to relax. You’re still shaking.”

“I wish I had taken Doctor Na’s offer for some new anti-anxiety medication,” you muttered to yourself, remembering his suggestion in the stairwell. You had a feeling your anxieties were just going to get worse.

You looked over as Namjoon came to the desk with your bag, all its contents gathered back inside. All except a familiar clear bottle. Your old medication that you had forgotten was in there since the night Doctor Na had followed you into the stairwell after you saw the exchange of U4-1A. The familiar want you felt then of wanting to down that last pill in the bottle and escape world came back. But you didn’t take it then, you didn’t need it now. You wanted nothing to do with that past life anymore. Hell, you only wanted to know what it was so you could find an alternative that wouldn’t remind you of Daniel. But the temptation was strong as Namjoon held it out for you.

“This is yours, right,” he questioned. “I found it rolled under a table. And it doesn’t look like anything Jin-hyung’s been working on.”

“It’s mine,” you said as you took it from him. “It’s old medication from my ex-…um, I mean, from my accident. I ran out and Doctor Na was trying to figure out what it was since the label’s been lost. But our hospital pharmacy couldn’t identify it. I forgot to clean out my bag with…everything going on.”

“May I?” Jin held out his hand for the bottle. You shrugged, handing it to him. He dumped the pill into his palm and started to examine it with the same focused intensity as he had earlier. He made a face. “A generic white pill with no discernable characteristics. And you don’t remember its name?”

“I don’t remember ever hearing it. I started taking it after I woke up from my accident. The nurse or my ex would just bring it to me. And then, Daniel would get it refilled after that since I couldn’t drive. When I came to Central, I only had what was left in the bottle and had to space it out. I haven’t taken it for a couple weeks now. It’s probably why my anxiety is really bad.”

“I can find out what it is for you. I guarantee I’ll have more success than some basic pharmacist fresh out of school. I’ve some connections I can talk with to help me analyze it. And,” Jin held up a hand to silence the protest you were about to pose, “these connections are not gang related. Before I became estranged from my family, I was the second heir to the largest pharmaceutical company in all the country. Despite my father’s best efforts, I was very friendly and charming with our specialists and made plenty of valuable connections to help me in the future. So, if anyone can figure out what this is, it’s me.”

You were stunned into silence. You remember him mentioning medical training and about his father pushing for a different career, but you never imagined he was a part of the Kim Pharmaceutical dynasty. Of course, you had heard of them; all the hospitals pharmacies in the city were stocked with their products, and every doctor read their research reports and trail information. They beat out every other company when it came to advancements in health services. And they were close to celebrity status amongst the papers. You recalled overhearing some pharmacy interns at lunch talking about them. They mentioned that the company was ran by the Senior Mr. Kim, who had been married twice after his first wife passed, leaving him with two sons to take over the company in the next few decades. The oldest was always showing up in the papers. And the second son was said to be away at some foreign school. Which, now knowing that Jin was the second son, was much better for their publicity than saying ‘a part of the most notorious drug dealing, ruthless Mafia families’. You remembered that night in your apartment when Jin had mentioned blackmailing his father for access to his assets. And, looking around at the lab, it seemed to have paid off well.

As you let the information settle in your mind, you realized that your hands had stopped shaking and your breathing had evened back out. They had successfully distracted you from your panic so your mind could recenter. Well, you recalled, they did say that they had experience with anxiety.

“Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung said, gently, “let’s head back upstairs. We’ll find something normal to distract ourselves until the others are ready for lunch.”

“Alright,” you said with a deep sigh, “but, before I have another panic attack here, what was so important that I had to come down here? Just tell me. Please.”

“Ah, of course,” Jin said, reaching over to a drawer and pulling out a small clear container. Inside, you could see several small, heart -shaped, pink tablets, no bigger than a breath mint. You had seen the news, read the papers, heard the doctors talking about it. That was U4-1A, Euphoria. When the first few cases had started coming into your ER, you were told to check and see if they had those heart-shaped pills on them, though you had never seen them. The distinct pink color was, also, a dead giveaway; it was the same color the user’s irises turned when they were high on the addictively deadly substance. The few times you had been in the room with some of the addicts that Doctor Na was working with, you recalled a rose-colored ring on the edges of their eyes that seemed so unnatural. Your stomach twisted at the thought of Henry taking the drug from Namjoon when he was supposed to be helping people. He couldn’t even deny it. “You know what this is?”

“Why the hell would you show that to me?! I asked for one thing. I could look past some things, try to ignore things. Like I could ignore the amount of money coming and going. I could ignore the weapons, or any other reminders. But I asked specificity for this not be mentioned.”

“Darling,” Jin chided in an amused tone, “I just asked what this was.”

“Are you fucking for real? It’s Euphoria…”

“Wrong,” Jin interrupted as he reached out and tapped you on the nose, completely taking you off guard and disarming you. “This isn’t Euphoria, or U4-1A. This is Euphoric. U4-1C.”

Never heard of that. “Okay. So, what? It’s a knock off?”

Jin looked offended. “A knock off. My dear, like me, it’s an original that others fail to compare to. It is the only one of its kind and so important to the work we do here. And before you insinuate, no, it is not what started this addict epidemic. The ones who have that despicable honor are Ji and the Royals. This” he held it up to you again so you could see it was more closely shaped like a triangle, “is my solution to it. For the past five or six years now, I have been secretly working on a counter agent to make that horrid drug obsolete and save the people who either willing or unwilling were made to take it. This is going to be the antidote. It’s not finished fully. I haven’t been able to fully identify the exact formula the Royals use. And it’s not an instant cure. But introducing this to someone going through withdrawals, instead of to induce a sexual release, the addict would just need to exert themselves another way, like exercise or something else that released the pleasure signal in the brain. It takes a lot of time and constant dosing but I’ve gotten it to where after so long it can be tapered off from every day to once a month, and soon only once every other month. I am making a cure. And we pass it out to those in need. That’s what I wanted you to see. That we aren’t the bad guys. Well… at least not for this.”

You let his words absorb and you felt like you had been doused with cold water. So, when Hwasa cornered Namjoon in the hallway of the hospital and took something from his pocket and mentioned ‘someone will find your kindness absolutely… euphoric’, she was taking an antidote to someone addict to U4-1A? That means…what Namjoon had given Henry, what Henry had used for his patients, what he couldn’t talk about was that he was accepting a possible progressive treatment for the poor souls in the hospital. He was, indeed, a good person. And you had thought the worst of him. Any time he tried to talk to you, you’d run in the other direction. You blocked his number and deleted any trace in your phone. You had thrown away everything because you didn’t want to believe him when he had begged you to trust him.

“Oh my god,” was all you could say as your head fell into your hands. “I have made a total ass of myself.” Was there a chance Henry would listen to your apology after all of that?

“You see,” Taehyung said, “I told you we knew the damage Euphoria does to people. We’ve been trying to fight this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Like that night in the car?”

“It’s still a work in progress and a secret,” Namjoon said. “Only a few gangs that have proven trustworthy know we supply it. And they distribute it within their own territory. Or, in the case of your doctor friend, those who did us a great service. We did intimidate him into silence. Which was what you must have seen. Can’t say I blame you for what you thought based on what it looked like. He’d get more if he stayed silent. We don’t want our name attached to it just yet. The Royals already want us dead based on our past with them and our part in the Great War. If they knew what Jin-hyung was doing, it would a bigger target on our backs. But once it’s completely finished, then we’ll openly distribute it to the hospitals and clinics. But we hope that you understand the importance of this secret for us. It’s more than just our lives at risk if the wrong people get word of it. And if Choi already thinks that you’re with us, imagine how much worse it will be when he finds out that we are destroying yet another income for them. Do you understand, Y/N?”

“This whole time, you’ve been doing a great feat and I’ve been so focused on the rumors. You really are the good guys trying to help?”

“We’re really good at hiding ourselves. We’ve had years of practice showing the persona we want people to believe.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said with a cheeky grin, “I mean look at Namjoon-hyung. He puts on a persona that he’s smooth when, in reality, he’s a giant dork who breaks everything he touches.”

“I’ll break you, you fucking brat.”

Jin reached out and knocked both of them upside the head. “Language!”

And you laughed. You laughed without the weight of anxiety or fear weighing you down. For the first time, you felt like you were truly safe.

****************************

The next couple of days went by in a pleasant way, falling into a simple routine that you started to look forward to. One of them would pick you up in the morning, making sure to stop by Holli’s Café for a morning caffeine fix, before taking different ways to the Magic Shop that ensured you were still none-the-wiser as to how to get there. Once there, you would find Yoongi either waiting in the kitchen for you or in the expansive gym where you would start with his rehabilitation exercises after you checked and redressed his wounded shoulder. Now that Yoongi was home, there was a difference from the person at the hospital. He was still quiet but much more open to conversations and approachable. The conversations between the two of you were deep and easy like the ones you had with Amber. And you looked forward to them. There was one time you had made a stupid joke that had made him laugh freely. And that felt like a simple accomplishment that warmed you up. And you couldn’t help but find his laugh adorable. One morning, he brought you to his ‘Genius Lab’. According to the others, it was incredibly rare that he even mentioned his safe haven to outsiders, let alone let them see it. But he had made an exception for you.

The Genius Lab was more like an office where Yoongi spent a good deal of time juggling between work, reflection, and solitude when the world became too much. The space suited his style; grey walls with dark accents and floors, a sleek black desk with three large monitors and computer equipment. Opposite the desk was a long black leather couch that looked quite comfortable. And the room was completely soundproof. When he had brought you into the Genius Lab, he showed off some of his work. You watched as he pulled up different views of various streets all over Central, some storefronts where he pointed out Bangtan’s hired help stationed out front, and the exteriors of the hospital popped up on the screens. You were very thankful that they were still monitoring your workplace. Yoongi tapped on a few keys and different angles of your apartment appeared across the screens, both outside and inside. He played back your morning; Hobi pulling up in a nondescript black car, him swaying to the music in his earpiece as he rode the elevator up, to letting himself into your apartment and waiting for you with Holli’s coffee in his hand. You remembered Taehyung telling you about the cameras they put in your apartment that first morning. While you thought it would be more invasive, you found comfort in his watchfulness.

This morning had started as usual; Jin had come to pick you up this time to bring you to the Magic Shop. The only one you hadn’t seen since arriving at the Magic Shop was Jimin. He hadn’t appeared at lunch the first day as you expected. You shrugged it off, remembering that Hobi had mentioned he hadn’t been feeling well. But you still hadn’t seen or heard from him. The drive over to the Magic Shop was as winding and secretive as always. Though they had started going in a different way. From the street, it looked as if he had pulled up to an abandoned auto mechanic gas station in the lower section of town. At the touch of a button on the dashboard, a spray-painted door rolled open to a dark tunnel that ended at the parking level of the Magic Shop. You wanted to question how the construction worked or how it had remained secret but decided against it.

As you ascended the spiral staircase after Jin, that was where the morning took an unusual turn.

When you stepped into the large front foyer, you were greeted by the sounds of a struggle. Instinctually, you grabbed ahold of Jin’s arm and hid behind his broad shoulders, causing him to chuckle at the cute action. Coming through the front door was a blindfolded man being dragged in by both arms by Yeonjun and another hired staff member. He was yelling all sorts of vulgarities and kicking out in many directions, like he was throwing a tantrum and not trying to escape.

“Motherfucker! I told you to stop manhandling me like this! You know who I am? I will mess you up!”

“Such dramatics,” Jin bemused, “He acts like he hasn’t gone through this before. Yeonjun, did he cause you a lot of trouble?”

“Sir,” Yeonjun snapped to attention, still keeping his captive held tightly. “He tried to give us the slip. We met him at the appointed time but he tried to run. Even tried to jump out of the car.”

Jin tsked. “Jackson, so disappointing. I thought we had a better relationship than that.”

“Jin,” Jackson called out, head snapping in different directions to try and focus on him from behind the blindfold, “buddy, come on. I got the times mixed up and your boy jumped on me. Can we take this stupid blindfold off? I thought we’d be past this.”

“Jackson, you are like a rash; unwanted, hard to deal with, and annoying.”

“Damn, that hurt.” Yeonjun shoved Jackson forward, causing the man to stumble freely. He ripped the blindfold off his face and turned back to the younger, fist clenched. “Fucking punk, I’ll wipe that fucking smile off your prepubescent face!”

“Jackson,” Jin said in a commanding tone that in any other situation would be attractive. Stop it, you mentally screamed. “Refrain from threatening my employee in my home before I let him show you why he’s one of our best. Be a good boy and mind your manners. I’ll go get Namjoon to deal with you. Yeonjun, just make sure he stays here and doesn’t try to slip something into his pocket again. I’ll be right back.” Jackson snorted and rolled his eyes as he straightened himself out. Jin turned around to you, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a moment, Darling. Don’t worry, Jackson is like a tiny dog; he’s all bark and nothing else, and easy to kick.” Jin’s eye flicked up towards the corner of the room with a sharp look before he turned back to you with a smile. That was weird. “Yoongi-ah should be here soon. Just hang tight and introduce yourself if you want to. And if Jackson does anything ungentlemanly, just tell Yeonjun and he’ll make him regret it.”

Before you could beg to just run upstairs, Jin patted you on the shoulder and disappeared. You had to remember that Bangtan would never leave you in any danger since they were bound to protect you. You remembered hearing Namjoon mention Jackson’s name before and figured they wouldn’t bring someone into their home that was a danger. You looked over to Jackson. The man’s dual toned hair was messy from his struggling. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his baggy pants pocket and pushed them up onto his head, like a makeshift headband.

Then, he noticed you. And you felt like you were a mouse caught in a snake’s site. A cool smile smoothed across his lips as he made his way over to you.

“Well, look at you. I’ve never seen you around here before. What’s a cute, little thing like you doing here? I’m Jackson. You need anything, I’m the one who will know how and where to find it. Individual contractor. Know-it-all extraordinaire. Master of the Silver Tongues.” He offered his hand out for yours.

“Um, hi, I’m Y/N.” You hesitated to shake his hand.

“So, what are you? You’re too cute to be related to any of them. You look far too meek to be one of us. And I’d hope you have better taste than to be trying to date one of these losers when someone like me exists. I can tell you, you can do better. I’ve known these guys for a long time. Trust me, they’ve got odd taste that would disagree with such a cute mouse like you.”

You retracted your hand. Jackson started to circle you, eyeing you up and down. It wasn’t threatening but you kept your eyes on him. Yeonjun gave you a look but you waved him off for the moment. You could handle yourself.

“I’m a nurse. I’m assisting them after an incident.”

“Ooh a nurse? What luck, I’m in need of some attention after all that rough housing.” He winked. “Oh, shit, wait, you’re the one that ran into the gun fight? And took out one of the Royal’s guys? I heard he’s still recovering from severe concussion. Mad respect, sweetheart.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I make it my business to know things. That’s how I make a living. And why I’m in such demand. Word of what you did has made its rounds through many circuits. Though, I’ll be honest, I’d never be able to put your face to it. And that’s a good thing in this world. Though, if you want to be extra safe from the bad guys, you may want to reconsider who you’re staying with.”

“What do you mean by that?” You turned to follow his eyes as he kept circling you. “Bangtan seems to be taking good care of me. And I don’t mean anything by this, but I haven’t heard anything about you until now.”

“Isn’t that the point? I’m good at staying secret, keeping things secret. And they’re so high profile, it would be easy to find you if they slipped up. There are some things that can’t be bought from me. Like a cute, little mouse. And if I wanted to keep someone safe, I’d make sure no one ever found them. Especially, if they are as interesting as you.”

“I’m interesting?”

“How could you not be? You’re so innocent, so different from all the other people I’ve ever met. You just want to help, didn’t know what you were running into. And now you’re stuck, hiding from the mean world that is trying to punish your good deed. I mean, I’ve been their friend for years and I can’t say I’d run into a fight with Choi to save someone he’s trying to kill. So yeah, you’re the most interesting person in the world. And I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe you’ll let me take you out sometime to prove I’m a better waste of your time.”

“And what makes you think I’d be okay with that?”

“Well, I can give you a hundred reasons to leave these losers behind.” He stopped circling and leaned in so his nose was only a breath away from yours. “But I’m the only one that you need.”

Unbeknownst to Jackson, Yoongi had appeared at the top of the staircase as Jackson started circling you. He watched the interaction with a scowl on his face. He descended the stairs with a ghostly quiet until he was right behind the rogue. You noticed him as Jackson had stopped to lean towards you and your breath caught in your throat. He looked mad, a fierce protectiveness was present in his dark eyes. He appeared at the right moment. Then, you realized. Yoongi had cameras in the Magic shop, he had mentioned it. And the look Jin had given to the wall that you didn’t understand must have been to one of Yoongi’s cameras that he was watching for when you had arrived as he had done before. They were still watching out for you. He stood so close to Jackson that you wondered how the other hadn’t sensed him yet, his face right next to his shoulder and gaze boring a hole in Jackson’s head. Jackson noticed that you were no longer paying him the attention he wanted and turned his eyes towards the directions yours were on. And he jumped as if he had just been electrocuted, putting some distance between him and the death glare he was receiving.

“Fucking hell, you bastard! Put a bell on your fucking neck! Damn, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Good,” Yoongi said as he kept his eyes trained on Jackson. “Leave her alone, Jackson. She’s got enough problems without you trying to weasel your way into her bed.”

“You wound me, Suga. I was just introducing myself to the lucky lady who is now one of the most famous women in our field.”

“I said,” he took a step closer to him, and despite his arm still in a sling, he looked as if he was about to use it on Jackson, “leave her alone.”

“Wow, back down, tiger. Sheesh, didn’t think you’d be so concerned about someone like her. Don’t you have your hands full already? Or are you just greedy? Or are you guys taking turns?”

“Jackson!”

Namjoon’s voice echoed against the walls. You looked up to the second floor where RM was leaning on the banister overlooking the foyer with Jin by his side glaring down at Jackson. RM looked as annoyed as his voice let on. He was all business with no sign of the calm Namjoon you had been seeing around the Magic Shop. With a power that befitted the Leader of Bangtan, he signaled for Suga to stand down and motioned for Jackson to follow him. With a final look and wink from Jackson to you, he flipped Yoongi off and made for the stairs. Suga, silently, watched him go, making mental notes for the future before he reached back and took your hand in his. You jumped, slightly. He hadn’t been physical with you like the others had, holding your hands, giving you a hug or playful shove. There was always a bit of distance, aside from the medical side of things.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get out of here.”

He had led you upstairs, asking if you were alright. While Jackson was a lot, it wasn’t something you couldn’t have handled. But you thanked him anyways for stepping in. It felt nice to have someone be so protective of you, something you weren’t so used to. He started leading you up towards the direction of the Genius Lab, where he insisted you stay until Jackson was gone, since it was secure and private, instead of the normal spaces you tended to occupy. Thankfully, the physical therapy you needed to do with Yoongi didn’t require much space and you carried all the equipment you needed in your bag. You figured Yoongi was not a fan of Jackson normally, remembering the disdain in his voice when Joon had mentioned him back at the hospital before. You were sure that Jackson’s display back in the foyer only made that worse and he wanted to keep an eye on when he left.

As you made it to the floor, Yoongi stopped. “I almost forgot. I need to check on something real quick. Can you remember how to get to the Genius Lab?”

“I think so. Do you need help?”

“No. I just need to check on Jimin. I won’t be long.”

“Is he alright? Is he still not feeling well? I can take a look if you need me to. That’s kind of my whole thing.”

He gave your hand a squeeze as a little chuckle sat in his throat. “No, it’s nothing you need to worry about right now. He’s coming down with something but is putting off taking his medicine as long as he can. He’s being stubborn. Gets it from me, probably. I’m just making sure he’s still in his room resting. I’ll only be a moment. I promise. Here, this is my key to the Lab. Let yourself in and lock it. I use my code on the door. Not that I think Jackson will know where my office is but just to be safe.”

Some part of you hated when he let go of your hand to head down the other side of the hall. You had to take a few breaths to let your professional masks fall back into place. You wished your emotions would settle. But being around someone as cute and protective had you feeling a certain way. A way which, you reminded yourself, you shouldn’t be feeling. You were hired to help him heal, not to let a crush develop. You really needed to get a grip. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you made your way down the hall.

However, after a few steps and turns, you had lied when you thought you could find the Genius Lab on your own. The only places you knew how to get to without much assistance was the kitchen, gym, and the family room. You had only been to the Genuis Lab once and you racked your brain for any distinguishing details that would help you find it again. What picture was near the door? What color was the door? Was the one with frosted glass or was that Taehyung’s art studio? You could just stand still and wait for Yoongi to come back and find you. Or you could text him that you were going to back to the foyer. Or text one of the others for help? Joon was busy with Jackson, and you weren’t sure where Jin went after that. Jimin, of course, was sick and shouldn’t be disturbed. And you wanted Yoongi to focus on Jimin and not you getting lost. You sent a text to Taehyung, hoping he wasn’t too busy to help you with what he was up to in town. You walked further down the hall only to stop and turn around after not recognizing anything.

Wait, was this the same place you had started? Why must this place be so confusing?

Your phone buzzed. You looked down at Taehyung’s text.

TaeTae: I really got to make you a map LOL.

TaeTae: Do you remember how to find the stairs? Get back there and look for your favorite painting of mine. The G.L is two doors down from that.

TaeTae: If you can’t find it, I’m sure he’ll find you with the cameras. Sorry, I’m at a meeting right now.

You could do this. Just find the stairs. Though that was easier said than done now that you had gotten all turned around. You’re sure Taehyung would make a joke out of this if you were ever found. After another turn, you did see a picture that seemed familiar and went down that direction. As you kept walking, you started to hear voices. At least that was a start. Once you found the source, you could orient yourself or ask for help. You followed the voices, and as they got louder, you recognized RM’s tone and regretted your discussion, not wanting to interrupt. That, and you were sure Yoongi didn’t want you near Jackson again so soon. But as you were about to turn back, their conversation caught your attention.

“Haven’t I been super helpful to ya’ll? Who was the one who gave you that info about the Royals showing up?”

“You, also, neglected to tell us that Choi was going to be there. And that is how Suga got hurt.”

“An oversight. That must have changed at the last minute. I can’t be a mind reader.”

“Even though you market yourself as one?”

“Ok, true. But you of all people should know that they don’t do what they say. Regardless, I told you about the Ateez pirates. I said they were up to something interesting. You should trust me by now. I got the information. I may be an independent player in this game, but I like you guys. That’s why I keep my ears open for you. And, I haven’t spilled anything of yours.”

“That’s because I don’t let you get anything worth spilling.”

“Ouch, you wound me, bro. I thought we were closer than that.”

Before you could help yourself, you found yourself stopped outside of Namjoon’s office. The door was barely cracked, but enough for you to see a bit inside. Namjoon’s office was much different from Yoongi’s; it was a large room with warm hardwood against velvety walls that declared power, with bookcases lining the grand walls. Thick hard-covered books filled the shelves like an extensive library. Seated at an opulent and ornate desk in a high wing backed chair was RM, his fingers threaded together and pressed against his lips as he peered sharply at Jackson. Jackson sat relaxed in a smaller, less comfortable chair. They were bathed in the crackling light of a roaring fire from the Victorian style fireplace that sat across from them. This was what you expected of a Mafia leader.

“I don’t appreciate you making my second so upset. He’s supposed to be recovering. Something he wouldn’t have to be doing had you had better information. Maybe I should start going to someone else.”

Jackson scuffed. “As if anyone could do what I do. Besides, I feel like you would have done it by now if there was anyone else. And if that asshole wasn’t so easily riled up he would be fine. I was just saying ‘hello’ to her. And trying to figure her out. She’s quite a surprise Joon.”

“We are trying to keep her safe. That includes from you, Jackson. She’s a civilian who got caught up in the worst way. We just got her to relax around us. I’d thank you to not undo what I’ve been working hard to do.”

“I hear you. Glad you took my advice to just go with it. I told you nothing bad would happen. I mean, what did you just say? ‘She’s a civilian’. I truly doubted she would be any problems.”

“No thanks to you.” Joon leaned further in his chair, his dragon eyes glowing in the fire light. “I’ve been patient, Jackson. More than I should be given what I am dealing with here. Now, you are going to tell me what I asked you to find out for me before I let Suga do what he wanted to do.”

“Damn, for someone who said it’s all business, you’re really pushing it here.”

“Jackson,” you could tell that Namjoon’s patience was wearing thin. What was he so determined to know? Was it something to do with Choi or the Royals?

“Man, look. I can find information about anyone. With just their name, I can tell you if they had late fees from their elementary school library or how many days their mother spent in the hospital recovering from birth.”

“And yet, it has taken you over a week to get back to me. Either you are slipping or you are full of shit.”

“Or you’re dealing with a ghost.” Jackson reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notepad. “Everything I found fits on two pages of this little flip pad. Even the most basic civilian fills half of the pages. But this Y/N girl is either that most boring person in the entire world or she’s a ghost.”

Wait, he was here about you? Namjoon was looking for information about you? You thought you had been very open with them about anything they had asked you. He had asked you to trust him, but he didn’t trust you. He had hired Jackson to dig up anything on you that he could. He was nervous when you had first come to the Magic Shop but you thought you had worked past that. Hadn’t the time they had spent with you beforehand been enough to prove that you meant no harm to them or else why would he ask you to come here? You knew you shouldn’t listen to any of this, but you couldn’t move. You sunk to the ground and leaned against the wall, listening.

“What are you talking about?”

Jackson tossed the pad over to him to see for himself. “I mean, this girl has nothing before two years ago. All I could find is that she currently works at Central Mercy as an ER Nurse, she lives in a shitty apartment that’s overpriced for that part of town. Before that, there isn’t much. I found her college she attended for her expedited nursing degree where she got high marks. Her father worked for different police forces as a high up desk jockey, meaning she moved a lot so there isn’t much in regard to early years. But nothing else. Everything starts about two years ago. I was able to find a news article about a car accident that listed her as a passenger, so her amnesia story checks out as far as that. Can’t said I ever heard of someone using amnesia as a cover, but fuck if it wouldn’t be good. Father died and there was no mother listed on any paperwork. Father’s file is just as blank. Just he was basic cop who sat at a desk. After the accident, her only known address was some small studio in her name that was set up by the rehab she was assigned to by some Doctor Sung, who died a year after from a heart attack. Found all his files but it’s nothing interesting. She did some reception job for a clinic before she came here that was a nonprofit for student nurses and that had nothing useful other than what I already had. But that’s all. No ties anywhere, no real records until recently. Either she’s got the most boring, nonspecial life I’ve ever seen, or her life’s been invented by some crazy mastermind. And I’m leaning towards the first one, man. This girl is boring and is nothing in the grand scheme of things. And that’s the truth. The most interesting thing was meeting you guys. She’s harmless. She’s no threat to anyone except maybe herself with that stupid heroic shit. So, you worried for nothing. Your family is safe, just like I said it would be.”

“How can that be all?” Namjoon seemed disappointed. “You’re telling me that there was no other information? How can someone’s life just go back two years? You must have missed something.”

“I don’t miss shit. Listen, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but that’s all there is. Her old man must have been from some off the grid town beforehand and didn’t leave footprints. She’s a nobody. She’s barely worth the time I spent looking for her. So, stop worrying about her like she’s gonna turn into some problem. And if she does, you can kill her easily enough. Hell, there are seven of you, should be easy.”

You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Namjoon’s eyes snapped towards the door, knowing full well that he had been caught. He rose from the desk and crossed the room, opening the door to find you rooted in place against the wall, eyes cast down with tears welling in the corners. It wasn’t just from the threat of being killed by the people you were supposed to trust, or the harsh words that Jackson had said about you. But it was the fact that you weren’t trusted. You were not granted the same thing he had begged you to do for them. And that hurt just as much.

“Oh shit,” Jackson said with a hint of glee. “Little mouse likes to sneak around, huh? I can see why you didn’t want to trust her. Seems like she’ll get herself killed before too long.”

“Jackson,” RM roared causing you to shrink further into yourself and the tears to flow freely. Namjoon looked down at you, instantly regretting his tone. He had messed up and he knew that. Moving carefully, he held his hand out to you in a silent plea to take it. Feeling like there was no other choice, you let him pull you up to your feet and into his office. Daring to look at his face, you didn’t see anger or any dangerous threat that you feared for your eavesdropping. You saw remorse and sympathy. He led you towards the fireplace where there were two large armchairs facing each other with a side table full of half-read books. He motioned you to sit before he turned back to Jackson. He took out his phone and sent a quick message. Within a moment, Yeonjun appeared in the door. “That’s enough, Jackson. Thank you for your help. But I need to talk to Y/N. Yeonjun will take you back where he found you. You know the drill.”

“Wow, fastest visit ever. Am I at least getting paid?” Namjoon shot him a look that made him jump and scurry over to the door. “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. I’m sure he isn’t going to kill you. Let me know if you want to take me up on my offer.”

Yeonjun grabbed Jackson by the collar and dragged him out, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone with Namjoon and the crackling fire. You thought back to when he had saved you when Choi had you cornered in the hospital hall, how good natured he had been with you, how he had been so open with you before he even knew anything more about you. He had been the one pushing for you to trust them and be comfortable with them. He had wanted you to come to the Magic Shop, was planning on telling you before he got busy. But was it all a ruse to get you to follow along? A handkerchief was pushed into your hands and Joon took a seat in the opposite armchair.

“Y/N, I’m sorry you heard that.” He was sorry? Was he going to reprimand you for eavesdropping? Or tell you that all this was a farce that he was going to drop and forget this life debt he kept pushing? “I was hoping to have talked to him before you ever got here. Just for some extra assurance before we moved forward. I didn’t want you to ever hear that. Jackson can say things harsher than he means. I asked him to do a more detailed background check than I had already done, just to ensure I had all the facts.” He flinched when your breath hitch as more tears fell. He started to reach out his hand to try and comfort you but thought better of it. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just needed to be completely sure that we were all going to be safe.”

“I wouldn’t have hurt any of you. I can barely handle myself, let alone do anything to you all,” you cried. “Why would I put myself in this situation? I tried to get away from all of this but you kept me here. I would have told you all of that stuff. It’s all I know about myself since the accident. I have nothing to hide from anyone. I promise I have only told you the truth.”

“I know you have. I’m sure you would have told me everything freely. I fucked up. I can’t say I’m sorry enough.”

“Was he right? Are you going to kill me? Because I seem like a made-up person? Because I don’t have a past?”

“No!” Namjoon rose from his seat and knelt down in front of you, finding your eyes and begging for your attention. “I would never do that. I promised to protect you. And I would do that whether you owed us a life debt or not. This life I’ve been living for the past twelve years has made me question so much about people. I’ve been lied to so many times that it fucks up your mind. Bangtan is my family and it’s my responsibility to protect them. When I met you, I instantly felt like I could trust you. I could see that you were a good person. But we had been fooled by someone we thought we could instantly trust before and I got nervous. But the more we spent with you, I knew it was different. But there was this little part of me that still worried. So, I looked into you after that first day. That’s why I introduced us as Bangtan to you. The others agreed because they saw what I saw in you. We've all been jaded by this life but something in you broke through all of our hesitations. We all think you are a good person and that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us. Once we got you to see what we really were, I thought this would be easier on all fronts.”

“You asked me to trust you but you couldn’t do the same for me?”

“I know. It’s been so long since I could really trust someone. Look at Jackson. Okay, bad example. But I’ve known Jackson almost as long as I’ve known the others. But I still need to keep him at arm’s length or watch what I say around him. It’s different with you. I want to trust you, I do. I just needed to be extra sure that I was doing the right thing. I truly mean that.”

You sat in silence for a long while as your breath evened out and your tears ceased. You could understand his hesitation. How could he be sure that you weren’t lying? It made sense, but hearing Jackson’s words, imagining that’s how they saw you, it was hard. But you had been so back and forth with their trust, too.

“I really wish we could just start over.”

“What do you want to know?” You took a deep breath and leaned back into the armchair. “What else do you need to hear? You want to be sure? Ask away. I only know so much. You guys have asked me to trust you and you told me things that would be helpful. I will try to do the same so we can share a common ground. Maybe one day I’ll know more and I can tell you more. But I can tell you what I can.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t need to do that. I trust you.” He stood up and moved towards his desk. But you grabbed his hand, steeling yourself to open up as much as you could. He could sense your determination and returned to the armchair. “Just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I never really talk about this. It’s hard to talk about. But I can confirm that what Jackson said was all true. It’s actually pretty much all I know for myself. My first actual memory is waking up in a small hospital room in so much pain. There was a man sitting next to me that I didn’t remember. He was my friend, he showed me pictures of us at school. His name was Daniel. I don’t know his last name, I never asked or remembered it. He’s the one who told me about the accident. My father’s car was hit from the side and flipped. He didn’t make it. Daniel spent weeks by my side as I recovered. Dr. Sung was this older doctor who watched over me and helped me recover. Once I was moved to his rehab, Dr. Sung prescribed me all these different treatments but my memories never came back. Daniel brought me my old schoolwork, my old journals, anything that could help me find myself. But there wasn’t much. Jackson said something about us moving a lot. After a year, I could recall little things about places I believe I lived. But there was never anything concrete. No friends or family reached out. Daniel told me that it was just me and dad. He had never heard us talk about anyone else. I guess we didn’t stay long in places. After I was released from the rehab, Daniel and I moved into this small apartment that was far away from everything. The rehab set it up to help me adjust to the world. But I was like a zombie, depressed, broken. After six months, I started trying to get better, start over. Daniel and I started dating, I found a job that was walking distance from my place. All my medical training came back over time. Just not anything else. And that was my life for almost two years. But, almost five months ago, Daniel and I split up and I came to Central to get away from all the unpleasantness. I’d prefer not to go into that if that’s alright. We weren’t good together anymore. Since I’ve been away, I’ve started remembering little flashes of things that don’t make a lot of sense. Amber thinks it’s because I’m away from the trauma. I don’t even know if I want to remember anymore. But if I remember anything more, I promise I’ll tell you once I figure it all out.”

Namjoon reached out and took your hand. “It’s okay. Thank you for sharing that with me. I promise to be more upfront about any questions I have. I trust you.”

“I trust you, too.”

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 5 months ago

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Convenience store Vampire, part 2

Part 1 here :)

“Ya do know there's a dead Exorcist outside yer door, right? 'nd I think he's forming a ghost.”

I gaped. The mental image of an Exorcist becoming a ghost was hilarious, enough so that I was tempted to throw on my cloak and brave the morning light to see it. “You are not pulling my leg, are you? What kind of Exorcist ends up as a ghost?”

Ghosts were formed from the dregs of a soul, the determination to stay alive. I could have sworn all exorcists were taught ways of avoiding becoming ghosts, right along with their killing-vampire classes, but I guess this one missed the memo.

“'Swear on my bruised ‘ittle heart, I ain't! Come take yer 'brolly and see,” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Reluctantly, I threw on my cloak and pulled out a parasol. With Hash hopping up and down in excitement by my side, I stepped out.

The morning sun burned and stung, even with the layers of clothing I wore. But it was worth it, to see the ectoplasm slowly coagulating into the form of a young man. “Did he get run over by a car? He's completely pulverised,” I noted.

Hash shrugged. “Dunno, but he's a wreck. 'Ink we oughta call someone?”

I considered the corpse. “Let's pull him into the shop, first. We can store him in the broom closet,” I said. The idea of one of my regulars finding two inhumans staring at a dead exorcist was not a pleasant one. I could already smell the smoke from the torches and taste the garlic oil on the stakes. Beside me, I knew Hash was thinking of it too.

“Wouldn't it be worse if we got caught with a corpse in yer shop? Maybe we oughta just call ‘em coppers, and be done with it,” she said dubiously.

“Yeah, but we should help him… Right?” I knew what the exorcists would do if they found one of their kind forming a ghost. It would be a quick bullet to the head for that newborn wraith. “It would be wrong to leave him out there for them to kill,” I said, thinking furiously. “But…”

Hash was one step ahead of me. “What if we bring the ghostie in and then call ‘em? We can pretend he didn't form anything, ya know?”

“I mean, it works, but they can sense the presence of twice-dead. They will know something is nearby, and they can probably put two and two together,” I said, and gave the corpse an experimental prod with the toe of my shoe. Ectoplasm and blood, along with something worse, oozed out.

Hash scrunched her face up. “Ya know, I think I know how to solve that,” she said. “Lemme call someone. You better drag ‘im in.”

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #spilled ink #writing community #fantasy #short story #Oh hi to anyone who actually read the tags #Guess you found my not-so-secret message!#Anyways I'm gonna ramble about my writing over here #So basically this was a prequel I wrote in honour of a really crappy story #I'm in the mood for rewriting crappy stories rn so you might just catch a few of them #Hey if I'm feeling daring I might as well upload to OG for y'all to read too #Stay tuned my tag-reading pal ;)

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starkerscoop · 9 months ago

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Cupid Personified

Posting this for the @starkerfestivals Secret Starker Valentine's event.

For my giftee, @taruchinator :) I hope you like it!

Prompt: Peter is Morgan's kindergarten teacher and Tony is just smitten with the guy. Morgan, thinking she's helping her dad out, asks him to buy her flowers and chocolates for Valentine's Day, claiming it's for her classmates. Turns out the little devil just straight up walks to Peter and goes “my daddy thinks you're cute!” and hands him all the stuff. Embarrassment and shenanigans ensue, but yeah, wingman Morgan for the win. "

Tony slammed on the brakes, his hands tightening instinctively on the wheel as his car jerked to a stop. School drop-off was always challenging. How could it not be, when his eyes won’t stop straying? He averted his gaze from Mr. Parker, who was turning with furrowed brows, likely trying to figure out whose parent was incapable of driving in a parking lot.

He let out a heavy sigh once Mr. Parker returned his attention to the students streaming through the gates of the school. What was wrong with him? Pining after his daughter’s teacher like a fool. He wasn’t sure when exactly this obsession started; all he knew was that every time he laid eyes on Mr. Parker, his heart made a funny stutter and scared him into thinking it was failing.

“Daddy?”

The telltale wobble in Morgan’s voice was the only clue Tony needed to understand she was upset. Alarmed, he glanced over his shoulder to take in her watering eyes.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked calmly.

No reason to set her off further. He’d noticed over time that she tended to base her reactions off his, so if he was worried, she would be too.

“We didn’t bring anything for Valentine’s Day,” she said anxiously. “Mr. P wanted everyone to bring something so we could have a party.”

Tony ran a hand down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

He couldn’t count the number of times they’d run into the same issue with last minute projects that consisted more of his work than her’s.

“I forgot,” Morgan confessed, “but I didn’t mean to! Can you bring some flowers and chocolate?”

Tony checked his watch. He was already running late to a board meeting, why not make them wait longer? It was worth it to make his daughter happy.

“Go to class. I’ll bring something,” Tony said, watching her smile grow, “but I want you to tell me these things in advance from now on. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” she echoed. “Thanks Daddy!”

Tony reached over the console and helped her unbuckle her belt. He unlocked the car door and kept his eyes trained on her as she skipped towards the gates. She’d cheered up awfully fast for someone who’d been so downcast just a moment ago.

Interesting.

Once she made it safely through the gates, he left the parking lot and drove to the nearest store he could find. Once he went in, he took his time perusing the aisles, ignoring the judgmental looks he could feel being directed at him by others. He knew how it looked—like he was a bad spouse doing last minute shopping for his partner.

He picked out enough chocolate to send thirty children into a sugar high. He didn’t envy Mr. Parker, who would undoubtedly have to deal with more chaos than Tony faced as Iron Man. Tony sent him a mental apology as he paid for his armful of chocolate and flowers; he’d gotten one flower for each child.

After stuffing everything into his car, Tony made the drive back to Morgan’s school. He parked as close as he could get to the entrance and wandered in with his gifts back in his arms. He hastily signed in at the reception before making his way to Morgan’s classroom. He knocked on the door as a warning before stepping in.

The moment he went in, he realized that the knock was completely unnecessary, because there was absolutely no way Mr. Parker heard it. The children were already having fun, the Valentine’s Day party underway with music playing from the speakers as they folded bits of paper into hearts.

Mr. Parker had his back turned to the door. He was helping a boy make his heart. Tony caught Morgan’s eye and beckoned her over with a nod. She bounded toward him cheerfully, taking everything from his arms with a small “Thanks!” and marching toward Mr. Parker before he could utter a word.

Tony trailed behind her, laughing to himself at her determination. She tapped Mr. Parker on the arm, who turned to her with a kind smile, his eyes widening when he spotted all her gifts.

“My daddy thinks you’re cute!” she announced, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and suddenly it all made sense.

They didn’t have to bring anything. Tony’d always known that Morgan was observant, but he never thought his attraction to Mr. Parker was so obvious she could pick up on it, let alone act on it. He was briefly concerned about how well she’d played him earlier this morning with the fake tears, but that concern rapidly made way for embarrassment, which wasn’t an emotion he was used to having.

Mr. Parker’s cheeks bloomed. “These are very pretty flowers.”

They were. And Tony had bought thirty of them. How must that look to Mr. Parker?

“What can I say?” Tony asked, regaining his voice. “I like pretty things.”

He shot a wink at Mr. Parker, who seemed to turn impossibly redder. Morgan clapped her hands excitedly before jetting off to her friends, leaving them alone. There was something triumphant in her grin.

“Well, I…appreciate all of this, Mr. Stark,” Mr. Parker finally said. “Thank you.”

Tony waved off the thanks. “Please, call me Tony.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Mr. Parker repeated, a bashful smile creeping onto his face. “You can call me Peter.”

Tony tucked his hands into his pockets. “Are you doing anything today, Peter?”

“You mean aside from watching a bunch of hyperactive kids?” Peter joked.

Tony laughed, tilting his head back. “Aside from that, yes.”

“I was going to binge watch Star Wars and drink cheap wine. I’m sure your plans are a lot more interesting,” Peter said.

Tony shrugged. “They will be if you allow me to join you.”

“Oh!” Peter’s eyes widened. “I’d like that. If you’re sure.”

His cheeks were turning red again, and Tony had to fight the urge to trace his thumb over them. He kept his hands rooted firmly in his pockets.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

#starker #ironspider #starkerscoopwrites #SFSecretStarker24

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 1 year ago

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Melaka Mystica (Part 2/3)

November 27, 2023

Notes - This month has been pretty dang good as I got a car, marched in a parade, made Thanksgiving dinner on my own for the first time (and didn't burn anything other than my energy and my mom's only remaining brain cells 😂), but then my uncle's cat, Budweiser (Buddy) who was 17 and I loved as my own, passed away after getting his final fill of turkey. He was an amazing old boy and I'll miss him dearly, but at least he's with the rest of my family, getting all the attention he could ever want! Honestly, though, I'm proud of myself for getting this done before the end of the month with all that happened around me! This is pretty much just 33 pages of me going off the rails at 3am and typing until my hands hurt, but it's worth it in the end! Anyway, I might need to invest in a wrist brace for carpal tunnel at this point 🙈😂

You all are clearly in over your pretty, little heads.

Metal dragged across old bricks, scraping a pile of leaves into a growing heap by the side of the road. As much as Mick hated being relegated to raking the sidewalk outside of her family’s shop, it got her away from the overbearing smell of incense packets and burning sage. Ever since the incident on Halloween, she had been suffering through her days at work. Things at the store had never been difficult for her before Halloween, but if the books Miles had been sending her excerpts of were anything to go by, all of her new problems were partly due to the possession she’d faced. Whatever had possessed her that day had left lingering traces of itself in her, making it damn near impossible for her to get through a workday. Whatever it had been, must have hated sage and incense, which, if she thought about it, made sense as negativity was supposed to be pushed out with a sage cleansing.

Regardless of how often she stepped out to breathe, her headaches only increased when someone would pull an incense stick from the wicker basket by the shop door to see how it smelled. She had tried to use one of the aromatherapy inhalers Carrie had bought her - something the blonde said she used to keep her sinuses clear during the winter if she had a show to perform in - but those only helped so much in the little shop. With customers pulling incense sticks from their packages to smell them properly, teens opening candles or essential oils, and groups of kids on field trips being obnoxious during Carrie’s performances, Mick was ready to down a bottle of Tylenol and pass out.

Thankfully, business had slowed down a considerable amount once Halloween passed. However, there were still the odd tourists coming and going in search of souvenirs and regulars looking for new crystals or a refill of their favorite incense. Once the local schools let out, they would get swarms of children and teenagers alike, pushing and shoving their way into the small store for cheap drinks or snacks. Some days were better than others, where they would get mostly older people coming in for replacement items or wanting a tarot reading. However, there were days when there would be an ignorant, middle-aged person looking to speak with the manager or owner - someone other than some “twenty-something little shit,” as most of them put it. On days like those, Mick wondered why her parents would give her the store if she had to deal with people like that all day.

Then again, they weren’t entirely retired, and people who knew and loved her parents would sometimes come in asking specifically for them. Mick never minded stepping into the back room and quickly calling either of her parents, asking them to stop by. After Halloween, however, the stress of everything had been too overwhelming. More often than not, Mick wanted nothing more than to call up her parents and give the shop back to them, telling them that she just couldn’t handle it. However, she had managed to fight through the first week of November without having to call her parents for anything more than a friendly visit and felt as though things would get better over time.

Then came the eleventh. Due to Veteran’s Day, the schools were closed, and the city’s parade was set to go through the streets, honoring those who had served in any branch of the military - alive or dead. Parade days meant busy business, and, to her dismay, many of those who had marched through the streets had come to the Coven’s Cottage for a hot cider and some of Mrs Murphy’s homemade cider donuts. With so many different emotions coming at her from everyone who stepped in the door, Mick got overwhelmed quickly. After a sobbing woman and her children came inside, Mick realized she was shaking like a leaf. After sending the girl to the back to calm down, Miles and Carrie were left to fend for themselves while an overwhelmed Mick hid in the break room to cry through the pain of a slaughtering migraine. Once things had calmed down and Mick was able to think properly, Miles convinced the brunette to wave her white flag, and she asked her parents for help.

Later that night, Mick had Miles and Carrie go home with her as witnesses so that her parents would see that she wasn’t just talking out of her ass. With his previous knowledge of magic, Brady was, understandably, concerned for his daughter’s health and mental well-being and began pacing - showing an anxious, overthinking side of the man that none of the young adults had seen before. On the other hand, while Mack had no magical ties of her own, the woman was determined to find a way to help her only child, looking into books and articles that could help cleanse Mick of any lasting effects from her possession. After sitting the older couple down once more and having them take the time to read over some of the things Miles and Carrie had found in their research for Mick, Mack and Brady agreed to put their daughter on lighter duty at their family shop, resuming their original positions as co-owners.

While the slightly lesser traffic in the shop and her parents helping out made things a bit easier on Mick’s headaches, she still felt physically drained just sitting in her family’s shop. Unlike Vivien or Royce, she didn’t have the ability to say her lungs were tight when someone tried to light sage or incense or claim her blood pressure was acting out whenever she got dizzy sitting at the register. In reality, with her parents and friends hovering almost every day, she was forced to get out and walk around town more frequently, giving her some fresh air. However, on days when the air outside was sitting in the forties, and the wind was like a cruel slap to the face, Mick despised being sent outside. She knew that, all too soon, the air would be too cold to breathe without a scarf over her face, and the ice on the ground would make it too difficult to make it from one place to another without slamming into the sidewalk, but that didn’t make her appreciate the moderately chilly autumn.

Heaving a huff of frustration as a nearby car barrelled down the street to beat a changing traffic light, the icy breeze dragging off of the vehicle and scattering her hard work into the wind, and Mick rolled her eyes. She was sick of raking meaningless piles of leaves, sick of being pushed aside and asked to do menial tasks just because she had a hard time sitting around in the shop. She could have been doing so much more to help out around the shop! She could organize the storage room, put new stock out on the shelves, or help give aura readings or something - anything! She was so tired of being useless to everyone she cared about.

With a shake of her head, Mick sucked in a breath and sighed before turning back toward the shop. The bell above the door chimed - a replacement for the cackling witch sound they had put up for Halloween - and Mick leaned the rake against the wall by the door before tugging her gloves and hat off and shoving them into the pockets of the maroon, fleece-lined coat her parents had bought her years ago. The pocket zippers had been melted open after she had unceremoniously tossed the coat in front of the heater once, the faux fur lining around the hood was slightly matted after having used it for so many frigid winters, and the elastics in the cuffs of the sleeves had lost their grip a long time ago, but the coat kept her warm and, to Mick, that was all that mattered.

The smell of burning sage filled the small shop, and although Mick would have usually taken a big whiff of it to calm herself, she refrained as a woman with a bag of incense sticks stepped around her to leave. As Mick ditched her coat on the rack behind the counter, she stepped up behind her mom and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek before taking a caramel from the dish on the counter and making her way to the back room to see if Miles and Carrie were on their breaks yet. Instead of finding the pair curled up on the couch, talking through the entirety of their break, Mick found her dad sitting in her usual chair, a cup of something in one hand and his phone in the other.

Smiling to herself as she decided to make her presence known, Mick asked, “What happened to doing a tarot reading for Mrs Anderson?”

Looking up from his device with a grin, Brady replied, “She got what she wanted and left already.”

“Let me guess,” Mick began as she perched herself on the armrest of her dad’s chair, “she thought her husband was cheating again and wanted to see if it was her sister or the new neighbor?”

“Almost,” Brady chuckled, placing his phone on his leg as he handed Mick his drink for her to try. “She thought it could be the mailman.”

Grateful she hadn’t taken a sip of her father’s drink, Mick let out a bark of laughter, “She thought Mr Anderson - the pastor of their church - was having an affair with her husband?”

Brady hummed, nodding in confirmation as he rhetorically asked, “Who doesn’t she accuse her husband of cheating with?”

Mick snickered as she handed her father his drink, “Ironic from the woman who has been divorced five times because of her cheating.”

With a shrug, Brady said, “It’s not our place to judge.”

“True.”

After taking a sip of his drink, Brady said, “Your mom and I are heading out early to meet with some friends from school who are back in town for the week. Do you think you, Miles, Carrie, and the kids can handle the shop until closing?”

Nodding, Mick smiled at the idea as she said, “Yeah, of course. We handled it for months on our own before.”

Groaning at the twinge of pain that had grown familiar in his lower back, Brady regretted all of the reckless things he had done in his teen years as he pushed himself out of his chair. Despite only recently turning forty, his body felt as though it belonged to someone nearing eighty. Brady suppressed a grimace as he stretched before turning to his daughter and saying, “That was before you were possessed by ancient magic.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mick slowly nodded in understanding. Regardless of how much she despised how easily that was everyone’s excuse for giving her lighter tasks, Mick understood where they were coming from. If what happened to her had happened to anybody else in her immediate circle, she would have acted the same. Offering her dad a slight grin, Mick allowed him to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “I get it, but honestly, I’m doing pretty well today.”

“Good,” Brady mused. “Try to keep it that way.”

“I will,” Mick claimed as the door to the basement opened, allowing Miles and Carrie to come in.

Brady hummed appreciatively before turning toward the young couple with a smile, “Did you two find that book I told you about?”

“We did,” Carrie said, offering the man her signature smile as Miles held up the thick hardcover book. “Do you really think it’ll help the kids?”

“It should,” Brady stated. “I didn’t get much use out of it, as you know, but it’s been in the family for many generations. If it helped them, why not let the kids use it?”

Miles nodded as he examined the book. The leather bindings were worn and peeling, the spine flexible yet delicate, and it smelled of an old library book that had been left on the shelves for a couple hundred years, but the pages were still crisp, and the ancient calligraphy was very clearly legible. While on the outside, the book certainly looked aged and well-loved, the pages still read as clear as day, making Miles question if it had some sort of protection charm that stood the test of time. Grinning to himself, Miles fleetingly wondered if the book in his hands was the origin of people saying not to judge books by their covers.

Lifting his gaze to meet Brady’s, Miles spoke, “Thanks again, Mr Birch. I know the kids would be interested in diving into actual spells and potions.”

Brady waved him off, “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of it, Miles. However, I do suggest asking your mother to help them with anything involving baking.”

“She is one of the best bakers in Salem,” Mick mused.

Before Brady could say anything more, the back room opened, and his wife’s head poked inside. “I hate to interrupt,” Mack began, “but it’s almost two, Brady.”

Heaving a sigh, Brady clapped his hands and said, “Well, duty calls, kids.”

As her husband gathered his belongings, Mack asked, “Mick, honey, are you going over to Miles’ house after work?”

“I was thinking about it,” Mick shrugged. “The kids wanted to work on some beginner-level potions.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Brady asked.

“She’d better,” Miles said before Mick could answer. “My mom said she’s making pizza casserole.”

Mick snickered, “I guess I’m staying for dinner then.”

“Alright,” Mack said with a smile, “well, we’ll be back home around six or seven to watch the eclipse if your father can get his butt in gear.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Brady claimed as he pulled his coat around his shoulders. Leaning down, Brady kissed the top of his daughter’s head before whispering to her, “Bring me back some of that casserole.”

“I will,” Mick said with a grin.

“You don’t need any casserole, Brady,” Mack claimed with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re going out to Hanna Devine’s.”

Brady’s expression said it all. Unlike most of the little bistros and restaurants in the city, Hanna Devine’s was a large building on the corner of a busy street that charged prices through the roof for a portion barely significant enough to qualify as a meal. Between the hassle of finding a parking spot and the extensive waitlist for a single table, the restaurant was usually only inhabited by insane people who didn’t mind paying forty dollars for a small piece of steak or twenty-five bucks for a side order of steamed vegetables. Despite attempting to get his point across with a pleading look, Brady found his wife’s piercing gaze and quickly schooled his expression as he sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Mick turned her gaze back to her daughter and said, “If there’s enough, bring us both back some. Chances are, we’ll still be hungry when we leave.”

Making his way to the door of the room, Brady beamed, “This is why I love you.”

“Because I let you get leftovers?” Mack questioned as Brady kissed her cheek. “What about when we got married or when I had to endure nine months of Mick’s punches to my bladder?”

“Of course I loved you then,” Brady stated. “It’s just that I really wanted that casserole.”

“And because I let you have it,” Mack slowly stated, “that’s your primary reason for loving me now?”

As Brady floundered, scouring his mind for something to say, Mick snickered, “Way to word things, Dad.”

“Good luck getting out of that one,” Carrie chuckled.

“There’s a store you can stop at on the way to Hanna’s that sells shovels since you seem to be in a hurry to dig your own grave, Mr Birch,” Miles said with a grin.

“None of you are helping!” Brady exclaimed, looking around at the three young adults with a gleam in his eyes that begged for them to shut up.

Choosing to end her husband’s struggle, Mack snickered, patting him on the arm fondly, “I’m just screwing with you. Now, come on, let’s get on the road before school gets out, and we’re stuck behind eight different buses.”

With a sigh of relief, Brady relaxed, turning back toward the kids with a small smile as he said, “Be good, remember to lock up the shop, and please, for the love of all things holy, remember to bring us back some casserole if there’s any left.”

As Mick gave her dad a mock salute, Miles chuckled, “We’ve got everything under control.”

“Enjoy your dinner with friends,” Carrie said, offering the older couple a wave as they left the room. Once the door was closed, the blonde turned to Mick with a smile and asked, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, for once,” the brunette replied. “I haven’t had any headaches since this morning when the trash truck came, and I’ve gotten through most of the day without needing to step out.”

“That’s good,” Miles said thoughtfully as he set the book for the kids on the couch. “Do you feel up to taking the register until closing?”

Eager to feel useful again, Mick quickly nodded as she said, “Yeah, of course. Are you going to restock or are you going to pick up the kids?”

Checking his watch, Miles said, “I’ll probably pick them up. If I get there early and find their bikes, I’ll put them on the rack before the bell rings.”

Leading the way to the main room of the shop, Mick mused, “Soon, they’ll be needing a ride every day.”

“Especially since it snowed two nights ago,” Miles sighed as he rounded the counter.

“Don’t mention that word,” Carrie said with a shiver. “I was hoping it would hold off until Christmas or something and then never come back.”

“Wishful thinking,” Mick snorted.

Carrie sighed as she slumped against the counter, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “At least we’re not supposed to get any more for a while.”

“When did you hear that?” Mick wondered.

Tugging her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, Carrie swiped around for a moment before showing her friend her weather app. “My phone says the next week or so is clear.”

Mick examined the weather listing before tapping on the screen, “We’ve got rain on Saturday and Wednesday, though. That can become snow if it gets cooler out.”

“But the app says it’s just rain,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s New England,” Miles chuckled as he zipped up his jacket. “The forecast lies.”

Carrie let out a resigned sigh, “I know, but I’m staying as optimistic as possible.”

“Good luck with that,” Miles muttered, his breath brushing across Carrie’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “Do you guys want anything while I’m out?”

“A million dollars,” Mick joked.

“Weathermen who won't lie,” Carrie added.

“A will to live.”

“Magical powers.”

Glancing between the pair, Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, “I meant things I can pick up from the gas station.”

“Ah,” Carrie breathed. “In that case, I’ll take some cherry Twizzlers.”

“I guess I’ll take some cheesy popcorn,” Mick said with a grin.

“Puffcorn or Smartfood?” Miles asked.

“Smartfood,” Mick said before thanking her friend.

“Weirdos,” Miles mused as he typed in their requests on his phone, knowing the pair would be sharing snacks in no time.

“Proud of it,” the two girls said in startling unison before turning to each other and laughing.

With a shake of his head and a fond smile, Miles pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out the door, passing the shop’s picture windows on his way to his Jeep. Smiling to herself, Mick turned her attention to the music playing over the store’s speakers, switching the radio station to one she knew both she and Carrie enjoyed. As something other than smooth jazz filled the shop, Carrie bopped her head to the beat with a smile before turning her gaze to Mick once more.

The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. She had watched Mick struggle the first couple of days - the brunette unable to pull herself out of her thoughts. Carrie had spent some time talking things over with Mick during that time, listening to her ramble nonsensically about all that had happened to her and all the struggles she faced. The first two days, Mick had been in a daze, operating on a repetitive cycle out of habit more than anything. Carrie spent a lot of time helping at the register as Mick would often stare off into space or lock herself away in the back room due to headaches. The first few days were difficult as Mick asked people to give her time to think and process, but it seemed to everyone that she had closed herself off from everything and everyone.

Mick’s relationships with everyone who was there that night had grown strained in that time - the only ones not suffering being Butchy and Lela, as they were only there for the aftermath. Whilst saying they hadn’t always gotten along well in school was an understatement, Carrie and Mick had grown close after Miles started dating the blonde. Over time, a bond had formed, but after Mick’s possession, Carrie could feel the distance between them growing once more. Everyone could. Though the brunette never outright pushed anybody away, they all knew she had come close to it more than once.

Carrie had never seen Mick so despondent and detached as she was in those first days. It took Miles climbing the tree in the Birch family’s backyard and climbing in through Mick’s window for her to begin talking to anyone who had been there. Understandably, Miles was the first person she opened up to as they had always been inexplicably close, but then she opened up to Carrie, and the blonde got to see more of the girl’s inner thoughts laid out before her like a jigsaw puzzle.

The strain Mick felt was palpable. Her hurt was nearly insurmountable, the stress was overwhelming, and the pain she felt whilst reliving and retelling her side of things was evident in her eyes. It took just shy of a week before Mick felt comfortable having the kids around her again. The thought that whatever was left in her might come back to hurt the kids had plagued her night and day, but after hearing that Vivien blamed herself for the older girl being distant, Mick forced herself to meet with them in the Common. They sat on opposite sides of the pavilion Saturday night, Mick asking Miles to tie her to the table with a scarf to keep her from hurting anybody, and that was the first time Carrie felt like crying about Mick’s situation. The thought that the bubbly, doting brunette was so afraid of hurting the kids made Carrie saddened and sick at the same time. Mick didn’t deserve to be scared of every move she made.

By the end of their conversation that night, things had begun to heal, but anyone who knew them could still feel the remnants of strain between Mick and Vivien. Things were slowly getting better between them, but Carrie quickly took note of the wistful glimpses Vivien would sneak of the older girl. Though Carrie, like everyone else, was sure things would return to normal - or some semblance of it, at the very least - she knew it would take time.

Listening to Mick hum along to the radio, Carrie glanced around to guarantee the shop was empty of customers before clearing her throat and asking, “Speaking of magical powers, I heard that Vivien was trying to find a way to give you some the other day.”

Brown eyes lifted from Mick’s phone and fleetingly met Carrie’s azure gaze before Mick shrugged and returned her focus to her phone, “She was, yeah.”

“I think it’s sweet that she’s trying so hard.”

To Carrie’s chagrin, Mick only shrugged again, “I guess so, but I wish she wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned. “I thought you wanted powers like theirs?”

“That was before I was possessed,” Mick admitted, meeting Carrie’s gaze once more. “I would have done anything for some magic back then.”

“But now?”

“Now I’m scared to even think about having magic.”

Carrie’s smile faltered at the weight of Mick’s statement. In a way, she should have expected that to be Mick’s answer, but in reality, she hadn’t thought about it from the brunette’s perspective. Vivien had gone to Carrie looking for help researching how to give someone magic, and although the pair had spent hours scouring through old books filled with runes and spells and potions, they hadn’t found anything that would allow Vivien to do what she wanted to.

Attempting to appear unfazed, Carrie asked, “How come? With your family’s long, magical bloodline, I would’ve throught you’d want to follow them.”

“I did,” Mick sighed, setting her phone aside in favor of the conversation at hand. “I wanted it more than anything. But now that I know how dangerous I could be if I let power get to my head, I’m sort of glad my dad cut off the line when he did.”

Taking in a slow breath, Carrie asked, “That really bothered you, huh?”

Mick hummed with a nod, “It’s hard to act as though it doesn’t, but I’m trying. I just-” Mick cut herself off with a sigh, “I wish I never read that damn book.”

“What-?”

Before Carrie could get anything more out, Mick cut her off, “If I’d never read that book, I wouldn’t have to live with constant headaches or people looking at me like I’m made of glass or everyone acting as though they need to walk on fucking eggshells around me!” Stopping to take in a breath, Mick ran her hands over her hair before sighing, “What hurts the most is living with the fact that all of this is my fault.”

Though Carrie didn’t want to push her luck with Mick, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How on earth is any of this your fault?”

“If I hadn’t tried to weasel my way into magic,” Mick began slowly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with nothing but sincerity in her caramel eyes, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It wasn’t like you read the book on purpose,” Carrie offered. “Even Butchy said that Casper knocked it over and you just read the first page you came across.”

“He’s right,” Mick confirmed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that, if I hadn’t made the black flame candle or been so determined to give myself magic, none of this would have happened.”

Carrie sighed, placing a hand on Mick’s arm in the hope that it offered the girl some semblance of comfort, “You don’t know that for a fact.”

“That’s just it,” Mick said, a dry, humorless chuckle falling from her lips as her exhausted brown eyes found Carrie’s vibrant blue, “I do.”

“Have a great night,” Royce said as he handed a paper bag to the last customer of the day. He didn’t know how Miles and the girls could handle working there all day, dealing with people in various moods, and handling children being generally obnoxious; he could only handle it for a few hours without wanting to leave. He didn’t mind most of the people who came and went, but there were a select few who were just pure negativity. While Mondays were usually slow in the shop, Royce was surprised to find the clock already ticking over to five as he looked up at the clock. Maybe the time had flown because he, Bentley, and Vivien had the chance to get their homework done between customers for once. Or, as Miles had teasingly suggested, it was due to the fact that he kept watching Vivien help people find crystals.

Royce discretely rolled his eyes at the thought - of course, Miles would tease him for something so small. It was payback for when Royce teased the shit out of Miles when he got with Carrie. Although Miles kept his relationship with Carrie under wraps from their mom, he hadn’t been so lucky when it came to his brothers. At first, his relationship with Carrie was nonexistent, but after a little over a year of them being together and seeing their mom gradually grow to enjoy having the blonde around, Royce found himself not minding Carrie nearly as much as he had initially. Now that he got along alright with Carrie, it was easier to tease Miles about the relationship, ironically giving Miles the right to tease him about Vivien in return.

It wasn’t like Miles and Bentley hadn’t teased him about his fondness for Vivien long before Carrie came into the picture, but it seemed as though Miles felt the situation evened out the playing field. It made sense in a way. Not only was Vivien one of his best friends, but everyone around them knew he had a thing for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret. In a way, he was sure Vivien knew as well, but he couldn’t tell how she felt on the matter. She never pushed him away - it wasn’t in her nature to anyway - but she also never acted upon what was going on. If she felt anything toward him, she never said, but then again, he never really did either. All he knew was that he adored her and, regardless of her feelings toward him, he would care about her until she told him to do otherwise.

Tearing his gaze away from Vivien once more as the door clicked shut, the bells tinkling a final farewell, Royce took in a deep breath and looked around the store for his younger brother. Almost on cue, Bentley pushed himself from his seat on the floor where he’d been reading comic books and scurried to the door, flipping the lock into place with a smile. Turning back to his brother and Vivien, the blond excitedly asked, “Is it potion time now?”

Chuckling as Royce tugged the cash register drawer from its confines, Vivien nodded, “I think it is.”

Setting the drawer on the shelf under the register, Royce leaned against the counter and asked, “Why don’t you go back and tell them that the lady finally left and that we can leave?”

Sending his brother a mock salute, Bentley beamed and set his comic book on the counter before saying, “Sir, yes, sir,” and taking off for the back room, the door swinging back and forth upon his departure. Royce shook his head, sighing as Bentley disappeared. For the greater part of the last week, he’d been subjected to Bentley’s ramblings on potions and which ones he was willing to make. While Royce was glad his younger brother was excited, he sort of wished it wasn’t the only thing they talked about when nobody else was around.

Vivien chuckled, leaning against the counter with a smile, “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that he’s so interested in all this witchy stuff.”

“Yeah, it is,” Royce agreed with a nod. Taking in a breath, Royce began sorting the money from the cash register as Vivien picked up the logbook and started writing down how many of each bill they had. As he finished with the twenties and set them aside, Royce turned to Vivien and asked, “Wait, didn’t you say something earlier about a magic thing you needed to talk about?”

Penciling in the number of bills Royce had counted, Vivien glanced up and nodded, “I did, but let’s finish this first and we’ll talk with the others about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Despite his visible skepticism, Royce gave the brunette a slight nod and said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Vivien nodded her confirmation before urging Royce to continue counting. By the time they were done and the money was put into the safe under the register, the shop’s speakers had been turned off, and the streetlamps outside were on, moths fluttering around them and casting shadows on the sidewalk. Closing the safe and locking it, Vivien followed Royce to the back room where Mick and Miles were debating whether the herbs they had received in the latest shipment should be placed with the hanging herbs or ground and placed with the jars of herbs while Bentley talked Carrie’s ear off on the couch. As Royce latched the swinging door to keep it from moving, Mick paused in her tirade, glancing over at the young pair as they entered the room.

Sensing Mick’s gaze as the conversations in the room stalled, Vivien slowly turned in the older girl’s direction, raising a hand in a wave as she spoke, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mick returned as Miles dropped the issue in favor of observing the interaction. Vivien and Mick hadn’t talked often since Halloween, and although Miles had encouraged both of them to step up and put in the effort, his advice seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the two danced on eggshells around each other. After Miles nudged his longtime friend, encouraging her to put in a bit more effort, Mick smiled and said, “I like your hoodie.”

Vivien glanced down and allowed herself to grin. Her blue and yellow hoodie had been bought off of Etsy and was embroidered with a subtle nod toward the most recent Five Nights at Freddy’s game - a small logo for the Security Breach’s daycare declaring Vivien as a staff member. She had bought more than just the one hoodie from the Etsy shop, blasting her way through most of her first official paycheck as she bought one of each of her favorite characters’ fleece hoodies and matching sweatpants. Despite her love of the game, Vivien had chosen to take the more discreet route in choosing her outfit for the day, keeping things moderately simple to avoid unnecessary attention. Although her hair had covered the design for most of the day, she had pulled her hair back while counting the money, so it seemed only fitting that the one person who had gotten her interested in the franchise was also the one to notice the detail.

Lifting her head, Vivien smiled and began indirectly quoting the game, “I figured we could finger paint, tell some stories, maybe drink some Fizzy Fazz until our heads explode, and then stay up all night.”

“As fun as that sounds,” Carrie began, “I would much rather we keep our heads intact, thank you very much.”

Sighing as she theatrically rolled her eyes, Vivien huffed, “You’re no fun!”

Mick let out a slight snicker, “As long as we keep the lights on, I doubt any of us will lose our heads.”

As Vivien snorted, dissolving into giggles at Mick’s hinted joke, Carrie glanced between the pair and said, “I’m just going to assume that’s something from the game.”

“It is,” Bentley confirmed.

“And you’re not missing much,” Miles added as he crossed the room to gather his belongings.

“Just a murderous animatronic daycare attendant who hunts you down and kills you if you turn the lights off,” Royce finished with a smirk aimed at the blonde, “that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Carrie echoed, mildly concerned that they had all found an interest in such a game. Attempting to process the thought as both Royce and Bentley nodded in confirmation, Carrie’s eyes widened slightly before closing as she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know how you can find that entertaining.”

“You would if you played it,” Vivien chuckled.

“Doubtful.”

Choosing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand, Miles leaned against the armrest of the couch and tucked his hands into his pockets as he said, “Anyway, does anyone need to grab anything before we go?”

Despite the others shaking their heads, Royce said, “Viv said she wanted to talk about something after closing.”

Though she hated the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on her, Vivien was surprisingly calm as she nodded, “I did, yeah.”

“What’s up?” Bentley asked as he moved to sit criss-cross on the couch.

Taking a deep breath as Mick pulled a chair out from the table they usually ate lunch at on weekends and sat down, Vivien thought back to her time at school as she said, “I was on my way to the vending machine at school and I ran into Serena.”

“How is she doing now that she and that other girl have gone their separate ways?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah,” Mick began, “are they leaving you guys alone now?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, when I went to walk around her, she grabbed my arm and it was like the whole school lost color.”

Curiously, Miles’ head tipped to the side as he asked, “Like the lights went out?”

“I didn’t notice anything,” Bentley mentioned.

“No, not like that,” Vivien sighed. Taking a moment to think of something to compare it to, Vivien gestured to the group as she spoke, “Okay, do you guys remember that scene from Harry Potter where Harry meets Dumbledore in the limbo version of the train station and there’s that creepy Voldemort thing under the bench?”

As everyone began nodding, Mick asked, “After Voldemort tried killing him in the forest?”

Vivien nodded, “Exactly. Serena held my arm and the whole school looked like that. Then, when I looked back at her, she was standing in some kind of glass case, banging on the walls and screaming.”

As though Vivien had unplugged a hidden speaker, the room grew silent. Carrie’s sapphire eyes flickered to Mick before landing back on Vivien as Mick’s chocolate eyes flitted down to the floor. Miles took in the seriousness and sincerity in Vivien’s face before moving his gaze onto Mick, wondering to himself if what Vivien described was something she had seen two weeks prior. As Bentley searched Vivien’s face for any sign that she was joking, Royce took a seat beside his younger brother.

Looking up at Vivien, the middle Murphy brother asked, “Is that why you looked so pale when I found you?”

“That’s part of it,” Vivien nodded. “My blood pressure was low anyway, but the whole Serena thing didn’t exactly help.”

Miles uncrossed his arms as he asked, “How are you now?”

“I’m fine, but that’s not what matters right now,” Vivien sighed. “After Serena let me go, everything around us went back to normal, but there was something about her that just felt off to me.”

Cautiously, Carrie asked, “Like what?”

“Like she wasn’t herself,” Vivien explained.

“She’s always kind of snarky and rude,” Royce mused with a roll of his eyes.

Vivien nodded, “Well, yeah, but there was this sort of direct, emotionless, borderline-cold tone under it all. It was kind of like - well, I don’t know, actually. It’s hard to describe.”

For the first time since Vivien explained what her interaction with Serena was like, Mick spoke, her tone soft but tense as she asked, “Sort of like she was in the car, but someone else was at the wheel?”

Vivien’s head turned, slowly finding Mick’s form as the brunette’s head lifted, her dark eyes finding Vivien’s with relative ease. Taking in the older girl’s expression, Vivien took in a breath and slowly nodded as she muttered, “Yeah.”

Although the room had grown tense, Carrie scooted to the edge of her seat and attempted to smile as she suggested, “That doesn’t mean Serena’s possessed. She could be having trouble at home or something; that can change someone’s behavior.”

“But what about the vision Viv saw?” Bentley asked.

Before Carrie could answer, Mick spoke again, “From what I remember, I never gave anybody visions.”

“You didn’t,” Miles confirmed with a slight shake of his head, “but that doesn’t rule it out entirely.”

Trying to offer something other than the worst possible scenario, Carrie stood from the couch and made her way to the growing pile of books the kids had left by the bookshelf as she said, “What if it’s something different entirely?”

“Like what?” Royce asked sarcastically. “It sounds a lot like Serena is possessed.”

“And maybe she is,” Carrie said as she began pulling books from the pile and setting them aside. Taking a book from the stack with a smile, Carrie held it up for the others to see as she asked, “But what if there’s a different way to go about this? That way, we don’t have to go about doing another exorcism.”

“What do you have in mind?” Mick asked as Carrie began flipping through the old, worn book.

“My first thought was astral projections,” Carrie confessed. “I’ve been looking through some of these books to see if I could figure out how the kids’ abilities could branch into other forms of magic over time and training, but the only one to offer any help was this one.”

Peering over the blonde’s shoulder as the pages flicked by, Vivien asked, “What did you find?”

Carrie hummed until she found the proper page, pointing to an extensive paragraph as she began reading aloud, “‘Astral projection, also known as astral travel or out-of-body experience, is the practice of separating one’s consciousness from their physical body and traveling to the astral realm. The astral realm is said to be a non-physical realm that exists parallel to the physical world, where energy and consciousness exist in a different form. In this realm, one can explore different planes of existence, communicate with spirits and other entities, and gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the universe. Some records in history suggest that witches as far back as medeival times used these projections to communicate with others possessing the same abilities. One of the most infamous records of astral projection was written by a supposed witch who was later hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials. The document speaks of witches talking to one another on another plane of existence, warning other accused witches of what was to come.’”

Following along as best as she could over Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien said, “That could be what happened.”

“It sounds like it,” Bentley mused.

“I would prefer that over having to deal with another possessed person roaming through Salem,” Mick piped up.

“Hang on,” Royce began as he stood from his seat. “What if it’s both?”

“Both?” Miles asked.

Royce nodded, “What if the real Serena is possessed, but she’s projecting to Vivien as a way of asking for help?”

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Mick said, “That makes sense. When I was possessed, it felt like I was trapped inside myself. The real Serena being trapped inside a glass box is sort of fitting.”

“So,” Bentley drawled as he glanced around at everybody, “what do we do about it?”

“We could lure her to the church,” Miles offered.

“No, we can’t,” Mick sighed. “Most of the churches in the area are either having meetings for Thanksgiving food donations or hosting events tonight.”

“How did you find that out?” Royce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“My parents were going to use one of the dining halls for their school reunion,” Mick shrugged.

“Alright,” Vivien breathed. “Where else could we take her?”

“What about a cemetery?” Carrie suggested. “Those are hallowed ground, right?”

“Yeah, because nothing screams serial killer quite like luring someone to a cemetary after dark,” Royce snipped, earning himself a nudge to the ribs from Bentley.

“How about we lure her to our house?” Miles offered.

“Are you insane?” Bentley asked as everyone else began arguing over the thought. “Not only would it be stupid to bring a possessed witch to our house, but Mom’s home tonight. If Serena tries to fight us, we can’t fight back in front of her.”

“Hear me out,” Miles began. Once the room was quiet once more, he continued, “Because mom bakes a lot, she’s got a ton of salt in the pantry. If we go around the house and put up a salt ring to protect ourselves inside the house, Serena can’t touch us.”

“Her magic would bounce off,” Mick said thoughtfully.

Miles nodded, “Exactly.”

Once the concept had settled within everyone’s minds, Royce spoke up, “How are we going to get her there?”

Before Miles could come up with anything, Carrie gestured between Vivien and Royce as she asked, “Do either of you share a class with her that has a test coming up; something that would require a lot of notes for?”

Vivien shook her head, “We both have science with her, but we don’t have any tests until next Friday.”

“I have geography with her,” Royce sighed. “We’ve got a test on Thursday for the semester’s closing grades.”

“Well,” Carrie began, a devilish smile tugging at her glossy lips, “you could text her and say that you have a bunch of notes for the test that she can use if she needs them.”

“How would that draw her in?” Miles wondered.

“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Vivien explained, “but if she is possessed, whatever it is won’t know that.”

“Exactly,” Carrie agreed, beaming proudly at the brunette.

Royce thought for a moment before slowly speaking, “So I lure her to the house with geography notes - that much I get - but what do we do after that?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Mick said as she rose from her seat. “For now, let’s gather some protection crystals and get going before we lose our opportunity.”

“What do you suggest?” Carrie asked.

Instead of answering directly, Mick turned to Vivien on her way to the front of the shop and asked, “Vivien?”

“What?” the young brunette asked as she followed Mick to the shop.

With a proud smile, Mick held the door open for the others as she explained, “This is your area of expertise, gremlin; what do you think?”

As a surge of pride coursed through Vivien’s veins, she beamed. Reining herself in, Vivien glanced over the round tables covered in baskets of crystals before humming, “Maybe some black obsidian or malachite to keep toxic energy away, and moldavite for some good luck?”

Royce and Bentley descended on the tables, pulling crystals from their containers and tucking them in their pockets before making their way back to where Vivien and Mick stood. “Anything else?” Bentley asked.

“What about fluorite or citrine?” Royce asked. “You said those are pretty lucky.”

“They are,” Vivien agreed, “but more for personal luck than anything.”

“I think we should be good with what we’ve got,” Mick said. “I have some sage in my car that we can leave on the front steps to ward off any evil intentions.”

“And we’ll have enough salt to keep her out just in case,” Miles agreed as he fished his keys from his pocket.

Clapping her hands together, Carrie smiled as she said, “In that case, let’s hit the road before it gets much darker out.”

Though the others followed Carrie and Miles to the back room to lock up, Vivien stared at the crystals before her, wondering if she had made the right call. Glancing back over her shoulder at the group, Vivien sighed and took a step forward, shoving a small slab of black onyx, a few pieces of smithsonite, and a couple of shards of moonstone into her pocket before turning and following the others out, slipping the lock into place behind her. Trailing behind the others, Vivien picked up the pace, pulling the already locked door closed after grabbing her coat and backpack from the hooks on the back wall and rushing to catch up with the others who had already begun rounding the building. As she tugged on her coat, Vivien allowed Bentley to hold the gate open for her, thanking him as she slung her backpack strap onto her shoulder.

Miles unlocked his Jeep and opened the passenger side doors for his brothers and girlfriend as Mick made her way to the beat-up Volkswagen she had bought from one of the older guys who frequented the shop. Before Viviuen could climb inside the Jeep, Miles closed the door behind Bentley. “Not so fast, kid.”

Looking up at her pseudo-older brother, Vivien raised an eyebrow and asked, “What; are you planning on shoving me in the trunk?”

“Not after last time,” Miles said with a snort. “Look, Ethan left his junk in the back seat this morning and I barely have enough room for the boys as it is.”

Noticing the way Miles refused to look her in the eyes, Vivien sighed, “You just want me to ride with Mick, don’t you?”

Apologetic, icy blue eyes flickered up to meet Vivien’s as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, mon étoile, but I think she needs you now.”

Slowly tearing her gaze away from Miles and letting her eyes drift onto the older brunette who appeared to be struggling to open her old bus’ driver’s door, Vivien let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but you owe me.”

“I know,” Miles said with a gracious smile, bringing an arm around the girl as he walked her to the back of the Jeep. “Thank you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivien brushed off, leaning her head against Miles for a moment before moving out from his hold and making her way to the old Volkswagen just a few parking spaces down. Upon approaching the vehicle, Vivien called out, “Did you lock yourself out again or something?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, Mick looked up and laughed, “For once, no. The doors have been sticking lately because of the cold. Do you think you could climb in through the passenger side and kick it open?”

“Why not just climb in before me and we can go?” Vivien asked, gesturing to the car as Miles started his Jeep.

“I have the door partially open and it won’t stop dinging unless I close it, but how come you’re riding with me?” Mick asked as she let go of the latch. “I thought you’d be riding with Miles and Carrie.”

Vivien shrugged in an attempt to act nonchalant as she rounded the large vehicle and yanked the passenger door open, “Ethan left a bunch of shit in the car, so there’s no room, but I also just wanted to ride with you anyway.”

“You do?” Mick asked as she stepped away from the door, her voice muffled by the thick metal and glass of the car.

“Well, yeah,” Vivien said as she dropped into the driver’s seat and began kicking the door. Once the heavy door popped open, she leaned out to Mick and said, “I feel like we haven’t really hung out since Halloween and I miss you.”

Hoping the younger girl couldn’t see the pain in her eyes as she took her spot in the driver’s seat, Mick spoke softly, “I miss you too, gremlin.”

As the old bus’ engine roared to life and the clunky radio sputtered through static to the first available station, Vivien tugged her seatbelt on and offered the girl to her left a smile as she said, “I’m sort of glad you missed me.”

“You are?” Mick asked as she pulled onto the streets behind Miles’ Jeep. “How come?”

“It felt like you were shutting me out after everything that happened,” Vivien admitted as she watched the shop’s storefront disappear in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Mick muttered. “Things have been hard since Halloween.”

“I get it,” Vivien nodded, looking over to the older girl. “Believe me, after almost setting our kitchen on fire the other night, I get it.”

Despite offering the younger girl a laugh, Mick shook her head, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

Vivien chuckled but took in a deep breath as she admitted, “I get what you mean, though. Things just aren’t the same anymore.”

“They aren’t.”

For a while, the only noise in the car was the radio between them, the sound of Harry Styles’ voice coming through the faint static of the scratchy speakers as his song As It Was began playing just loud enough to be heard over the engine. Vivien tried not to scoff at the irony of the situation, choosing to take in a slow, deep breath as she softly admitted, “Sometimes, I wish we never got magic in the first place.”

Pulling to a stop at a red light, Mick’s dark eyes flitted over to her young friend as she asked, “Why on earth would you want that?”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Vivien’s lips as she turned to Mick and admitted, “If we never got our magic, things never would have changed. The boys and I wouldn’t have to keep secrets from everyone we care about, we would all be able to live normal lives, you never would have been possessed…” taking in a deep breath, Vivien allowed her words to drift off and looked away as she finished, “you and I would still be close.”

“We can be close again,” Mick reminded her as she reached over and took hold of Vivien’s hand. “We can go back to our mall trips and sleepovers and stuff. It’ll just take some time getting there again.”

“I know,” Vivien breathed, squeezing Mick’s hand as she turned back toward the older girl. “It’s just… there are times when I miss just being a normal girl - worrying about prom and grades and friendships instead of having to worry about setting fire to my chemistry lab or summoning some ancient demon because I read a spell wrong.”

Sending the girl a wary look as the light turned green, Mick asked, “You didn’t actually do those things, did you?”

“No,” Vivien laughed as Mick pulled away from the traffic light. “I’m just saying that things were easier before and I sort of miss having that simplicity.”

Nodding in understanding, Mick took in a deep breath and said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I think you guys are doing amazingly. You’ve really come into your powers.”

“Thanks,” Vivien said with a smile. “I just wish I could give you some of it.”

Sending the girl a quick smile as she turned onto Forrester Street, Mick said, “I know you do, gremlin, but I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mick said as she pulled into the driveway behind Miles. “I’ve sort of come to terms with it all.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Vivien offered.

“It is.” As Mick pushed her door open and released Vivien’s hand, she said, “Just know that I’m grateful to be able to watch you and the boys grow into your magic.”

“Thanks, Mickie,” Vivien said with a smile.

Mick nodded before siding out from her side of the car and slamming the door shut, making her way to the front of the vehicle, where Vivien met up with her. Following the others inside through the garage, Royce said, “I texted Serena, and she said she would be over after having something for dinner.”

“That should give us more than enough time to salt the house,” Miles said.

Bentley hurried up the steps to the door leading inside the house as he said, “I’ll distract Mom if you guys want to start grabbing salt.”

Stepping inside the kitchen, however, the group was surprised to find Dorothea tending to the crock pot on the kitchen counter. The older woman turned to her children and their gaggle of friends with a smile as she spoke, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the Murphy brothers replied on instinct.

Dorothea brushed them off with a slight wave before urging them into the kitchen, “Come get a bowl. I think we’ll eat in the living room tonight. We can watch a movie if you’d like.”

Cautiously stepping up to fulfill his role, Bentley said, “That sounds great, Mama, but can we set aside some food for Mick’s parents first? They’re going to something at Hanna Devine’s, and they said they’d still be hungry later.”

“That’s fine,” Dorothea claimed, glancing over Bentley at the girl in question. “You should know I always make enough for leftovers.”

“Thanks,” Mick said with a smile.

As soon as the woman turned to pull bowls from the cabinet, Miles grabbed Royce by the wrist and pulled toward the pantry. However, before they could do more than open the door, Dorothea’s voice stopped them, “Not so fast, boys.” Stilling against the door, Miles and Royce shared a startled look before leaning back to see their mother slowly turn back toward them with a knowing look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Grabbing popcorn for movie night?” Royce offered tentatively.

“No need, I already got it out,” the older woman said, gesturing to the box of microwavable popcorn bags on the counter. “What were you looking for this time? More salt?”

Miles tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he stammered, “Wh-What? What are you- what do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice all of my salt going missing on Halloween,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “Or Royce’s laundry not needing to be done at all in the last two weeks, or the cookies in the jar never moving despite the crumbs all over the counter, or Bentley’s chocolate milk magically refilling every morning when I’m not looking.”

Stunned by the woman’s intuition, Bentley’s eyes widened as he slowly turned back toward his mom and asked, “You saw that?”

“I’m not blind, mon âme,” Dorothea told Bentley, a glimmer of something knowingly mischievous in her eyes as she smiled at her youngest. “Even without my own magic, I would be able to figure it out eventually.”

“Your own magic?” Carrie repeated curiously.

“You have magic?” Mick asked.

“That I do, lutin d’eau,” Dorothea said with a nod. “How else would my children have their abilities?”

“My parents don’t have magic,” Vivien said with a shrug.

Sending the young girl a look that made her begin doubting herself, the woman asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Vivien opened her mouth to reply but found the words dying off in her throat as she slowly admitted, “Not anymore.”

“So, wait,” Miles began, “Mom, you’re a witch?”

Dorothea nodded, “Have been since I was about sixteen, yes.”

“And you knew we had magic?” Royce asked.

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Dorothea chuckled. “Most people who have had their magic for a while can tell when another magical person is around. The energy is different.”

“What are your powers?” Bentley asked.

Gesturing to the food on the counter, Dorothea claimed, “Most of the time, I use magic in my foods. Before you leave the house, I make breakfast with protection charms or herbs. Before bed, you have some of my special cookies to make you sleep peacefully. I make sure that, no matter what, you are protected and happy while eating the things you like.”

Although every other person looked reasonably impressed with the matriarch’s claim, Miles was the first to ask, “How did we not know?”

“Because it’s all you’ve ever known from me,” Dorothea shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t always a master chef or baker.”

With his jaw practically on the floor, Royce grinned as he asked, “Have you ever spelled us without us knowing?”

“Of course,” the woman replied. “Why do you think I always offered you goodies when you thought you would be in trouble?”

“Those were magic brownies?” Vivien asked, stepping up to the woman and rifling through one of the overhead cabinets before pulling down a glass jar of cookies and brownies. Setting the jar on the counter and pulling a brownie from the jar, she asked, “Can I have one? What will it make me do?”

Curious to see the outcome, Dorothea smirked and gestured for the girl to eat the baked treat, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Vivien eyed the brownie for a moment before quickly taking a bite, keeping anyone from stopping her. As Carrie gasped and Mick and Miles stepped closer, Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head with an amused smile, making them stop in their tracks as Vivien hummed around the brownie, “You always make the best brownies.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea chuckled.

“No, like, seriously,” Vivien muttered as she swallowed. “I swear, if I ever get married, I would want a giant tray of just your brownies instead of a cake.”

“I’ll be sure to write that down,” the woman said with a smile. “Now, do me a favor and turn toward your friends.”

Not one to disobey the woman, Vivien turned, fluttering the fingers of her free hand in greeting as she took another bite of her brownie, “Now what?”

“Tell me what you think of each of them.”

Glancing curiously at the older woman, Vivien shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth before allowing her gaze to land on Miles as she spoke, “Miles is the older brother I always wanted but never got. I can always call him if I need help with anything, and he’s supportive of everything I do. If it weren’t for him and Riven, I would be overworking myself constantly and struggling with a lot of mental health issues.”

Despite appearing minutely worried for Vivien as she took a final bite of her brownie, Miles’ expression softened as he asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Vivien said, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have a tendency to throw myself into things without any regard for my own well-being, but you always make me step back and think first. Riven helps when he can, but you’re always there for me, sort of like the big brother I always pictured in my head, but never got in real life.”

Before Miles could say anything more, Dorothea nudged the girl and asked, “What about Mick, Carrie, or the boys?”

“Well,” Vivien began, “Mick has known me since I was a baby and has been looking out for me like a sister for as long as I can remember. We used to hang out a lot, but since she was possessed on Halloween, she’s been distant.” Mick’s gaze fell to the old, creaky planks of wood beneath her feet, but she didn’t get much time to think as Vivien said, “I don’t know how to approach her most of the time, but I love her no matter what.”

Carrie placed a hand on Mick’s arm, sending the brunette a smile as her gaze snapped up to Vivien once more. “We’ll work on it together,” Mick offered.

“I know,” Vivien said. “Anyway, as for Carrie, I wasn’t sure what to think of you growing up because Mick said you were stuck up and prissy, but Miles liked you because you because you got along really well when you worked together on a project. Also, when the town was doing The Wizard of Oz a few years back, I wanted to be Dorothy, but you got the role instead because I was way too young, and I didn’t like that at the time which made me not like you until we started working on the show together and you were actually pretty cool with me. I really like you now and think that you’re a great addition to our little group.”

Despite the evident confusion on Vivien’s face as she finished speaking, Carrie’s signature smile appeared as she thanked the younger girl. Before giving Vivien the chance to ask questions, Dorothea cut in, “What about Bentley? How do you feel about him?”

As though a rubber band had snapped her back into place, Vivien’s gaze landed on Bentley, and she began, “Bentley is a lot like Oliver, and I would protect him with my life if I had to. He’s like this little golden retriever puppy that just showed up in my life one day, and I decided to keep him out of love. Even though he plays it off like no big deal, he’s very talented and is very emotionally intelligent. He knows when someone isn’t feeling right and will go out of his way to help them. He’s been family to me practically my whole life, and I think that, if platonic soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely one of mine.”

Deciding to wrap everything up instead of talking about what Vivien had said, Bentley looked to Royce and gestured to him as he asked, “What about Rolls?”

“Actually,” Dorothea interrupted, placing a hand over Vivien’s mouth before the girl could give more information than she wanted to, “I think that’s enough for now.”

As the woman slowly released Vivien and handed her the glass of water she had been sipping out of while making dinner, Vivien asked, “What was in that thing?”

“That was one of my truth-seeking brownies,” Dorothea claimed. “With a small dose of a potion mixed in the chocolate, one bite would make the one eating it tell the truth until the magic wore off with time or, in this case, water. Anytime the boys would get into trouble growing up, I would give them something like this to make sure I knew what had actually happened.”

“So that’s how you got me to tell you about the broken vase!” Bentley exclaimed accusatorily. Although Bentley hadn’t been the one to break their mother’s newly made, handmade vase - Royce had - he hadn’t been able to keep things under wraps long enough to fix the vase himself. His mom had given him a fresh-from-the-oven cookie, and he found himself spilling the beans without hesitation. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a tendency to ramble things without thinking, but now that his mother had made it clear that she was the reason, it all made sense.

“That’s right,” Dorothea said with a nod. “We can speak more about it later. For now, who would like to tell me why you feel the need to sneak into the pantry?”

Before giving anyone else a chance to speak, Vivien blurted, “One of our friends from school might be possessed by dark magic, and she’s coming here to get notes from Royce, so we planned on making a salt ring around the house to keep her from coming in.”

With a raised eyebrow, Carrie asked, “I thought you said water was supposed to get rid of the truth potion?”

“It takes a few minutes to work through,” Dorothea explained as she patted Vivien on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, yay,” Vivien sighed sarcastically.

“Anyway,” Dorothea began as she turned toward the rest of her children and their friends, “since what she says is true, we’ll need to work fast. Miles, Carrie, and Mick, you three stay with me. I have some sage and other herbs we can hang by the doorway to ward off dark magic. Royce, Vivien, and Bentley, you three take the salt and follow each other around the house with it. The thicker the salt, the better. Just make sure it isn’t too obvious and keep the line as close to the front door as possible.”

As Vivien followed Bentley and Royce to the pantry to retrieve the salt, Dorothea turned the slow cooker onto low heat and waited for the kids to run outside through the back door before heading into the pantry and sliding open a panel on the back wall. Inside was a rotating, lazy-Susan-style shelving unit filled with bottles that contained either liquids, jars of various ground items, or herbs, and a rack of wrapped herbs dangling from above.

Examining the hidden unit, Miles asked, “When was that built?”

“Not long after your father left,” Dorothea answered as she began pulling things from the shelves. Holding out a bundle of wrapped sage, she said, “Now, split this evenly between you three and go smudge the doorways and windows while I make up a quick potion to drizzle over the salt circle. By the time the kids are done and the potion is ready, the girl should be on her way over.”

Without any argument, Miles took the sage from his mother and began unwrapping it, heading into the kitchen to grab a lighter from near the stove before handing out sage to Mick and Carrie. Watching her son and his friends move toward the front of the house, Dorothea took in a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, tapping a few different things before bringing up the group chat she had with Mick’s parents, letting them know their daughter had arrived safely, and they would set aside some food for them. After receiving a message from Mack in return, thanking her for letting them know, Dorothea pocketed her phone once more and silently prayed that she would be able to protect the children in her care as she closed the pantry once more.

Before she could make her way to the living room, though, the door leading to the garage opened, and a faint surge of fiery power coursed through her. Curious, Dorothea turned and watched as a head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled into a pair of half-up space buns stepped into the house, ditching a messenger backpack on the floor next to the door as it closed. Kona was quick to tug her detachable roller skates from her sneakers and shove them into her backpack as Dorothea smiled at her. Pushing her bangs from her face with a smile, Kona said, “Hey, Mrs Bentley’s Mom.”

“Kona,” Dorothea began, examining the shades of pink and teal that flooded the energy surrounding the girl, “I didn’t know you were coming over. We’re just about to eat; would you care to join us?”

“I can’t, actually,” Kona said with a sigh as she grabbed a cookie from the counter. “Dad’s making a traditional hawaiian dinner for Mom tonight, but I wanted to come over to talk with Ben, Royce, and Vivi.”

“They’re out back at the moment, but they should be in soon,” Dorothea said. “Is it something for school?”

“No, just friendship stuff,” Kona shrugged before taking a bite of her cookie. “Ben and I argued a bit this morning, but I talked it over with Zack and Gus after school and figured we could work things out tonight as a group.”

Nodding in understanding, Dorothea gestured to the dining table and said, “In the meantime, would you like to talk with me about it? I might offer an unbiased opinion.”

“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to say anything,” Kona began as she tugged one of the chairs out from the table, “but I assume that, if what he was saying is real, then you’d know about it too.”

“Most likely,” Dorothea agreed with a hum as she sat in Miles’ usual spot at the table. Sending the girl a comforting smile, she gestured with her hand and said, “The floor is yours.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Kona glanced around for any trace of Bentley before allowing herself to ramble, something she had always found relatively easy in the woman’s presence. She started her retelling of the morning - how her cat had woken her up by smothering her, her younger sister had refused to put clothes on before daycare, and her first attempt at waffles had made a disaster of the kitchen counters - then, she brought the story into the beginning of her school day. Quickly, she got into Bentley’s story and how he had pulled her aside like it was some big secret before telling her about all that had happened on Halloween.

Nodding along as though she hadn’t already surmised what happened that fateful day, Dorothea listened as Kona told her side of the conversation before asking a single question, “And you don’t believe him?”

Kona heaved a sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want to believe him - I do - it’s just really hard to. He sounded nervous, but that also made it sound like he was lying through his teeth.”

“I understand,” Dorothea nodded. “But, if you were in his shoes and you had to tell him that you possessed magic in some way, wouldn’t you be nervous as well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kona breathed. “I just didn’t think about it at the time.”

“Again, that’s understandable,” Dorothea said with a smile as she watched the array of colors around the girl swirl and shift with every thought that ran through her head. “So, what did Zack and August have to offer?”

“They sort of pointed out that Bentley’s a terrible liar and that I should maybe try sitting down and talking with him more to get the whole story,” Kona admitted. With a faintly nervous chuckle, she said, “So, here I am, ready to try a bit harder.”

“And you want Royce and Vivien there to verify everything?” Dorothea surmised.

Kona nodded, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and like a herd of elephants, Bentley, Royce, and Vivien hurried into the house. As he led the way, Bentley called out, “Mama, we finished the salt circle. What do we do now?”

Upon finding Kona sitting across from his mother, Bentley’s voice faded into silence. While Bentley scrambled to find something to say and Royce’s eyes widened, Vivien offered a hesitant smile as she said, “Kona, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” the blonde said as she pushed herself out of her seat. “Bentley told me about this whole witch business this morning and I want to have an actual conversation about it.”

“We can’t right now,” Royce stated apologetically as he checked the time on his phone. Serena would be there any minute; they didn’t have time for this!

“Why not?” Kona wondered, crossing her arms over her chest. Nodding toward Mrs Murphy, she said, “She let me talk with her. Why can’t we talk now?”

Before anyone could think of an answer, Carrie’s voice came from the stairs as she, Miles, and Mick came down from the upper floor, “We finished smudging the house.”

“Yeah,” Miles continued as they entered the kitchen. “What do we do now-” As his eyes landed on Kona, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“Looking for answers,” Kona replied. “What are you guys doing?”

Faintly feeling the effects of the brownie she had eaten earlier, Vivien replied, “Smudging and making salt circles to protect against dark magic.”

Sensing the growing frustration boiling within Kona’s small frame, Dorothea stood from her spot at the table and placed a placating hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment. For now, you all need to keep an eye out for Serena. Go sit in the living room and do whatever you think is necessary before she gets here. I’ll handle this.”

Despite Royce and Vivien allowing Carrie and Mick to guide them into the living room, Bentley swallowed thickly as Miles tried guiding him away, muttering a soft, “I’m sorry, Kone,” as he turned back toward her for a fleeting moment.

Once Bentley was out of sight, Kona turned to Dorothea and asked, “What’s going on?”

“As I said, I’ll explain everything,” Dorothea said softly, gently guiding Kona back to her seat. “But first, I need you to sit. This will be a lot to take in all at once.”

“What do you mean, you told her?” Miles asked.

“I told her about us,” Bentley explained. “We talked about telling her the other day, so I figures it would be fine.”

“Well, there’s no backing out now,” Carrie claimed from her spot near the picture window. “She knows and, in the long haul, I think it’s for the best.”

Pulling his notebook for geography out of his backpack, Royce said, “I actually agree.”

Slapping a hand to her friend’s forehead, Vivien smirked as she asked, “Are you sick or something? I could’ve sworn I heard you say you agree with Carrie.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Royce deadpanned as he pried Vivien’s hand from his face. “I just think that Kona was bound to know eventually.”

“True,” Mick said from her perch on the coffee table.

Vivien hummed in agreement as she took the notebook from Royce and pulled the thin slab of black onyx from her pocket, tucking it inside the notebook before handing it back to him. Opening the notebook to the hidden crystal, Royce asked, “What’s that for?”

“It’s black onyx,” Vivien explained. “It’s supposed to draw out negative energy. I figured it might help Serena if we give it to her in a way that she won’t notice it.”

Closing the notebook again and feeling just how flat the book still felt, Royce grinned, “Sneaky.”

“Just one of the many reasons you love me,” Vivien claimed proudly. Before allowing him to respond, she said, “I figured it’s flat enough that she won’t realize it’s there, and if she does, you can always claim it’s a pencil or something.”

“Smart,” Mick mused with a smile as she watched over the young pair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Vivien taunted, shoving the girl’s knee with a smile. “I think those years of spending every afternoon in the shop with you have paid off.”

“I suppose they have,” Mick chuckled.

Moving away from the window, Carrie pointed toward the outside as she exclaimed, “She’s coming up the driveway!”

“Alright,” Miles said, patting Royce on the back as his younger brother stood. Holding the brunet by his shoulders, he asked, “You know what to do?”

With a nod, Royce began counting on his fingers as he listed, “Act normal, talk about the test, offer to let her in, give her the notebook either way, and once she leaves, we decide what to do next.”

“Good,” Miles said, running a hand over Royce’s chocolate curls before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Royce muttered.

Squeezing his brother’s shoulders, Miles reassured him, “You’ve got this, RJ. Remember, it’s just Serena; she’s your friend.”

“She’s just possessed, that’s all,” Royce huffed as the doorbell rang.

“Be nice,” Miles reminded him, sending a meaningful glance in Mick’s direction despite the girl not being able to hear their hushed conversation. “Your friend is still in there somewhere.”

Nodding more for Miles’ sake than his own, Royce turned toward the door and sucked in a deep breath as he crossed the gap between himself and the heavy, oaken frame. Forcing a small smile onto his face, Royce let out the breath he’d been holding and tugged the door open, allowing the chilled autumn air to brush calmingly across his face as he found Serena leaning against the column at the edge of the porch. “Hey, Serena.”

“Royce,” the redhead greeted in return, a sort of grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your notes.”

“Yeah, of course, anytime,” Royce replied. Stepping to the side and gesturing to the inside of the house, he asked, “Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold outside.”

Royce took note of how the girl’s hazel eyes flickered to the old, wooden beams that made up the porch, her gaze minutely trailing the thin line of salt trailing into the coarse artificial grass of the doormat. Although Royce knew the moment only lasted a second or so, time felt slower as Serena’s gaze landed back on him. Forcing his smile to remain plastered across his face, Royce watched as she shook her head with a somewhat distant smile and replied, “I would, but I have babysitting duty.”

If there was one thing Royce remembered about Serena, it was her hatred of babysitting. After years of being made to watch the young kids of her church and being forced to sit at the kid’s table every year, the last thing Serena would ever want was to babysit. He could vaguely recall hearing her have a shouting match with her mother in the school parking lot about having to babysit a kid that wasn’t hers - presumably in reference to her younger half-sibling, Sawyer. If Serena was willingly babysitting Sawyer, something had to be up.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” Royce brushed off despite his mental notes saying otherwise. Instead, he held the notebook out with a smile and replied, “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Serena replied with a quick roll of her eyes that Royce supposed he wasn’t meant to see. However, as Serena latched onto the book and brought it close to her chest, he watched as her eyes flickered rapidly, the color in them gradually shifting from hazel to crimson as they moved from one side to the other faster than Royce could register. Then, all at once, it stopped as Serena’s eyes dissolved back to fear-filled hazel. “Royce?” she questioned breathlessly.

“Serena?” Royce asked slowly in return. “What’s going-”

“How did you make it stop?” Serena interrupted, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears of relief. Though Royce had begun to open his mouth in response, Serena quickly shook her head and said, “Actually, nevermind; it’s not important right now.” Reaching out and taking Royce’s arm, she found his eyes and pleaded, “You have to help me. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been stuck in my own body for weeks now and I can’t get out.”

“What do you remember?” Royce pressed.

“Halloween,” Serena claimed, swiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You guys came to the church to look for something and I left, but then I came back and you all were gone, so I cleaned the mess you left and then I-” Serena choked on a breath, shaking her head as she breathed, “the next thing I know, it’s like I’m trapped in my head and nobody hears me screaming for help.”

Taking in as much information as he could from the rambling girl, Royce nodded, “I know Vivien talked to you.”

“It wasn’t much, but I tried,” Serena agreed. “I can’t hold her off for long.”

“Her?”

Serena nodded, releasing Royce’s arm to wipe the streaks of tears from her face as she replied, “The other me. She’s strong and powerful and I know it has something to do with magic.”

“Magic? Like ancient magic?” Royce restated. When Serena shrugged with a hum of confirmation, he asked, “How do we help you out of this?”

“I don’t know,” Serena muttered, her voice shaking with every heave of her shoulders. “You, Vivien, and Bentley were always the ones to know everything about magic, not me. That was never my strong suit. All I know is that she can’t touch salt and-”

As Serena’s words died in her throat, Royce took a step back, watching her eyes begin flickering once more. “And what?” Frustratingly, Serena’s mouth moved despite no sound coming from her lips, and Royce gripped the door frame with wide eyes as her eyes clenched shut, and he heard a dull cracking sound come from the book in her hands. Royce sucked in a breath as he realized the crystal tucked inside the notebook had broken.

Like a rubber band, Serena’s eyes snapped open, and a dark, ruby glare settled within her gaze. Despite both of them knowing she couldn’t do anything to hurt him because of the rings of salt around the house, Royce still felt his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to do something to preserve himself, and the people he knew were watching from the window. Serena took a half-step back, the blood-red hue of her eyes diminishing gradually the further she got from the doorway. Tilting her head to the side with an almost demonic smile, Serena let out a dark cackle of laughter before speaking, “Just because you and your little friends defeated me once does not mean I will let it happen again.”

“Says you,” Royce hissed.

“Precisely,” Serena spoke. Stepping down from the porch, Serena’s smile turned eerie as she waved a hand toward the window, sparks of fire flitting from her fingertips. Turning back to Royce, she said, “Watch yourselves, children. Your magic may be cosmic, but mine is ancient. I will take it from you eventually.”

Not wishing to anger the woman further, Royce chose to keep his mouth shut, watching as Serena’s figure turned and stalked off toward the end of the driveway. As she neared the edge, she dug into the notebook, pulled out the broken shards of the onyx slab, and held them up for them to see before holding her fist over the wheeled trash can Bentley hadn’t yet brought back into the garage and crushing the shards in her fist. Dumping the shattered remnants of the crystal into the empty trash can, Serena gave a final, dramatic bow before releasing a cackled laugh, slipping into the driver's seat of her violet-wrapped Audi, and pulling away from the house with a squeal of her tires and a deep growl from the engine.

#Melaka Mystica

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