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peakyblindersxx · 4 years ago

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whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

#john shelby fluff #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby reader insert #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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writeyouin · 3 years ago

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Could we maybe get a cute fluff story of Blades and his crush or S/O??

Blades X Reader – A Minor Emergency

A/N – Welp, Blades won the vote and he was a lot of fun to write for.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“I don’t like this,” Blades said to Dani as they flew over Griffin Rock, checking how bad the flood damages were after a stray flobster had burst a water main in the aquarium.

“Blades, please concentrate,” Dani reprimanded him.

“But-”

“Hang on, I think I see something,” Dani said, retrieving her binoculars from the passenger seat to scan the roads below.

Blades remained dutifully quiet, though he still quivered in his anxiety. Finally, Dani put down her binoculars, finding nothing worth reporting to the team.

“(Y/N) should have called me,” Blades whined, picking up where he left off.

“Maybe they’re busy Blades. They don’t have to talk to you every day.”

“Why not? You talk to me every day.”

“We live together,” Dani deadpanned, bemused by the turn the conversation had taken.

Blades fell silent, bottling his concerns about you for the rest of the mission. Why hadn’t you called him? Were you suffering in this emergency too? Had you lost your phone? Or was it possible that you didn’t like Blades as much as he liked you? He wanted to tell you how much he liked you, but every time he tried, anxiety took hold of him and he couldn’t do it.

Blades sighed. He wished that he could be brave like Heatwave, or blunt like Chase. Even Boulder managed to be forthcoming about his feelings, but Blades wasn’t like that. He felt like such a coward.

Still, just because he couldn’t tell you about his feelings didn’t mean that he couldn’t find out what was going on with you. He resolved to visit you as soon as the rescue mission was over. Alas, taking care of a flooded town was easier said than done, and Blades found himself impatient to be free of the whole thing.

Boulder and Graham managed to fix the burst pipe from the Aquarium in good time. Chief and Chase were in charge of locating and aiding stray citizens. Heatwave was given a modification by Doc Green that allowed him and Kade to remove the flood water from Griffin Rock. All that was left for Blades and Dani was to provide air support and make sure that everything was going according to plan.

As soon as the mission was over, Blades took Dani back to the firehouse. The second Dani hopped out from the cockpit, he wasted no time in flying over to your house. He transformed to his root mode, standing outside your window and calling your name.

He wished he had gone to the wash racks before coming over, but he was desperate to know that you were okay.

“(Y/N),” Blades called again, tapping the side of your bedroom window.

Finally, you headed to the window, opening it to look out at Blades. He immediately noticed that you looked different than usual.

Your hair looked almost like it was wet. ‘Is that what it looks like when it hasn’t been washed?’ Blades found himself wondering.

On top of that, you were in your pyjamas in the daytime. Dark rings underlined your eyes, and Blades definitely knew what those were from Dani, who was not a morning person, as Blades had learned the hard way.

Your skin had lost its usual healthy pallor, but Blades didn’t know whether that was normal for humans. After all, if they could get darker from the sun, was it possible for them to get lighter without it.

“What’s up, Blades?” You croaked, your throat aching with each spoken word.

“Is your vocaliser broken?” Blades asked, staring at you. He had heard that some human voices changed, but he was sure that was at a younger age.

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, having little time for the bot today. “I’m too tired for this today… Can you come back in like, a week?”

A week?! Blades didn’t want to go a week without you. Was something wrong? Were you mad at him? Blades quickly started a mental list of anything he might have done to upset you.

Upon seeing Blades grow anxious, you took pity on him, deciding to explain your plight, so long as it meant you could go back to bed.

“I’m sick. I need to rest. We good now?”

“Sick? How did you get sick? What do you need? Dani’s a medic. I could bring her to you and-”

You put a hand to your temple, a headache forming that made you feel even worse. “Hey, it’s okay. I just need some sleep, alright?”

“No, not alright. What if you only think you need sleep but you actually need a super rare cure that can only be found deep in the mountains?”

You stared blearily at your friend, “No more cartoons for you.”

Blades looked put-out at your conclusion, upset that you weren’t taking him seriously when he was terrified over your fate.

“It’s just a common cold, Blades,” You told him. “Every human gets one from time to time. I just have to sleep this off and drink some water, alright?”

Reluctantly, Blades agreed with you. Although it pained him to do so, he transformed and flew away, back to the firehouse. You had to smile as your friend left, vowing that you would thank him properly for his concern once you were feeling better.

Despite telling Blades that you needed sleep, it took you hours to drift off. First, you were too hot, then too cold, then your nose was too stuffy and after that it wouldn’t stop running. However, you outlasted the aches, pains and general discomfort, until your eyelids grew heavy and sleep enveloped you… for all of five minutes.

You groaned, hearing the sirens from outside your house. Chase’s voice boomed through his loudspeakers so the entire neighbourhood could hear everything he said.

“Attention citizens of Griffin Rock, please pass by the police barricade in an orderly fashion. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Your body protested as you got up to look out of the window, wondering what the emergency could possibly be. You couldn’t see anything however as Blades’ face came into view.

“(Y/N)!” He cried out energetically. “Feeling any better?”

You ignored his question, instead asking one yourself.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re responding to an emergency.”

“What emergency?” You asked wondering what could have happened on Griffin Rock now.

Blades stared at you with apparent confusion, “It’s you.”

“What?”

“You’re the emergency. See?”

Blades stepped aside to show you the police barricade that Chase was setting up in front of your house.

You tried to fight your rising annoyance and stay calm with Blades who was very clearly overreacting, “Blades, why do you need a barricade?”

“So nobody else infects you. Dani told me that was probably how you got sick in the first place.”

“Right, and is Dani here now?”

“No. I really didn’t want to wake her. She does not appreciate being woken up.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” You grumbled.

“What?” Blades asked, mishearing your complaint.

You glared at him, not at all in the mood for his misunderstanding of human behaviour. “Look Blades, I am not an emergency. When the island is spewing lava, that is an emergency. Please can you stop this so I can get some rest? I am literally begging you right now.”

Blades did feel guilty at upsetting you, but he was also not easily deterred. He was not willing to see you get any worse in your time of need. Maybe you didn’t think that you classed as an emergency, but he did.

As a compromise, he offered to keep the noise down for you.

Angrily, you slammed your window shut, storming away from him. It took you a few minutes to find your phone underneath the mass of crumpled tissues that littered your bedside table. As soon as you had it, you dialled 911.

Chief Burns, used to emergency calls answered within one ring, “Griffin Rock Emergency Services, what’s the emergency?”

“Hey Chief, it’s (Y/N). Sorry to disturb you so late, but Blades and Chase are barricading me in my house.”

“They’re what?” Chief Burns asked exasperatedly.

“Blades got it into his head that I’m going to die of this cold or something. Please can you call them back?”

“Of course, (Y/N). Get well soon and sorry for the hassle.”

“Thanks Chief.”

You waited a few minutes until Chase’s orders to the neighbourhood stopped. You slumped back onto your bed in relief. Once again, you were about to try to sleep when an unusual feeling overcame you.

You tiredly went back to the accursed window which seemed to show you all of life’s problems. When you got there, you found Blades standing resolutely outside. You opened the window, sighing. Blades’ optics snapped to you. He was terrified that you were going to hate him now, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“I thought Chief called back the Honour Guard,” You croaked in an attempt at a joke, coughing shortly after.

“I have to stay during an emergency,” Blades argued meekly. “That’s my job.”

“This isn’t an emergency.”

“Please don’t send me away again,” Blades whispered, looking hurt at the prospect. “I just want to be here for you.”

Your heart melted at his plea, so you gave a small nod, “Okay Blades… But if there are any real emergencies then you have to go there before coming back.”

“Yes!” Blades agreed enthusiastically.

“And you can’t make too much noise.”

“I’ll be as quiet as a rat,” He claimed, mixing up the idiom.

“Okay Blades, I’m going to bed now, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Blades smiled, waiting till you had closed your window to quietly add, “I love you.”

While he hadn’t confessed his feelings to you, it was the first time that he had ever said them aloud. With that, standing vigil over your residence, he felt better than he had since coming to Earth. He had lost his friends, family, and entire planet to the war; at least on Earth, he had found something worth gaining.

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#blades #blades x reader #tf blades #transformers rb #transformers #transformers rescue bots #maccadam #chase #dani burns #charlie burns #chief charlie burns #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #a minor emergency

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ushittyoldman · 4 years ago

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sweetheart like you

request. hiii welcome! my brain is empty rn but some spike fics would be so amazing! i’ll probably be back when i have an idea but for now maybe just some first kiss with Spike and up until then they had just been flirting:)

pairing. spike x fem!reader

warning. language, mentions of s ex, & just a whole bunch of fluff

a/n. my first spike request eeeeee here u go anon! i hope u like it, it’s still taking me a while 2 pin down his characterization so i kinda just went w how i thought he’d b in a situation like this. nevertheless, i hope u like it thank u 4 this cute asf request (fun fact! spike always reminded me of bob dylan bc of his hair so this title came from a bob dylan song)

"Found him,” you mumbled discreetly into your ear piece, your sunglasses sliding slightly down your nose.

“Attagirl,” you heard Spike’s smooth drawl through the ear piece, and you attempted to conceal the slight smile that had made its way to your face.

“Careful, Spike, looks like I’m doing your job for you,” you teased, still keeping a watchful eye on the slimy suspect who happened to hold a handsome bounty on his head.

“Can’t really complain when you look so much better doing it.”

“Just fuck already so I don’t have to hear this everyday!” Faye snapped, and this time you couldn’t help the soft blush that colored your cheeks. You tightened your jacket around yourself, attempting to alleviate some of the embarrassment you felt.

“It’s not like that—”

“You know you’re always welcome to join us, Faye,” Spike retaliated, and this time you couldn’t hold back your giggle. Had you turned around, you wouldn’t have missed Spike’s smile widening upon hearing the musical sound.

“I’d rather die.” Faye deadpanned, and you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t laugh too loudly due to the delicate position you were currently in.

“One day... just one day of peace and quiet. You think that’s a lot to ask for, Ein?”

Silence followed Jet’s tired question, and you realized you’d have to once again step up and apologize on behalf of you three. You softly mumbled into the earpiece, “Sorry, Jet, remind me to buy you a new bonsai tree to make it up to you!”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he enthusiastically said your name. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an absolute sweetheart?”

“Once or twice.”

Before anyone could respond, movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention. The man you had been tailing had stood up from his seat on the couch, paying the stripper who had clung to him for the majority of the hour. You began to subtly gather your things and pay for your drink at the bar, preparing to follow him out of the club.

“He’s on the move,” you angled your head to your left, eyes searching for familiar brown eyes, “I’m gonna follow him.”

Once your eyes met Spike’s, an understanding passed between you two. He had been sitting on one of the couches towards the back of the dimly-lit room. His long legs were spread as his arm was casually draped over the top of the couch, and a cigarette loosely hung from his lips. His long hair was pulled back slightly, since it was styled to mimic the type of men who frequented the club, and you smiled at the memory of you and Faye attempting to tame his hair in the bathroom right before you three departed on the mission. Though he was attempting to pass off as a regular civilian enjoying the strip show, there was something about Spike that made him stand out from the rest of the crowd. Realizing you had probably spent an abnormal amount of time admiring him, you met his eyes again and decided to ignore the look of blatant amusement that so clearly danced within them.

You simply nodded once and you silently applauded yourself on being able to catch the subtle nod he gave you in response in the dimly-lit room. His lips quirked up slightly, and you somehow felt more reassured in your ability to pursue the criminal.

Gulping down the last of your drink just for that liquid confidence, you delicately placed the payment on the table, and adjusted your top as you followed the man out the door. As you left the strip club, you noticed the shadow of the man’s trench coat as he leisurely walked towards the darker side of the already extremely shady town. You inhaled sharply before wrapping your own coat around yourself tighter. Suddenly, the man took a sharp left turn into a narrow dark alleyway between two buildings with impossibly bright neon signs.

“He went down an alley— that’s gotta be a dead-end. It’s almost too easy!”

Spike quickly yelled out your name, an odd edge to his words. “No! We’re sticking to the plan.”

“But I can—”

“Spike’s right, it’s too risky,” Faye interrupted evenly, though her tone showcased her own concern at your irrational thinking.

Deciding to prove them wrong, you furrowed your eyebrows and tightened your grip on the concealed gun. You let out a soft exhale, your breath visible in the frosty night. You immediately turned the corner, prepared to take the man by surprise, yet you stilled in shock when you were suddenly slammed against the brick wall. You could faintly hear your sunglasses clatter on the ground. You saw stars the moment your head hit the wall, and you were almost positive you were dealing with a concussion. You internally grimaced at the earful you’d undoubtedly be receiving from Spike, Jet, and Faye.

“What do you think you’re doing, you sneaky little bitc— ooh,” he mockingly cooed, “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, for the love of—” you heard Spike groan in your earpiece, most likely realizing you deliberately disobeyed the plan.

The man’s rough hands began playing with your hair, and you tried your best not to cringe at the feeling. Briefly, you conceded that Faye and Jet may have been right when they voiced their concerns over you working alongside the bounty hunters on this mission. You were the Bebop’s resident medic, and you had an alarming lack of experience with guns and self-defense in general. The two facts paired with your intense hatred of harming people, and you were most definitely the least qualified person to be on this mission.

Momentarily, you wondered why you even pushed so hard to join your friends and leave the safety of the Bebop. You suddenly thought of Spike. Spike with his lazy smile, as he encouraged you to join them. Spike and his untamable hair as he taught you how to use a gun. Spike and his warm hands as he softly caressed your cheek the first and only time you had managed to take him down in your self-defense classes.

You groaned internally as the realization hit you harder than the concussion.

Stupid Spike.

Deciding not to succumb to death just as yet, you abruptly realized there was a technique that Spike had taught you for this very occasion. You groggily tried to remember the technique, and you urged yourself to remember quicker when the man began to trail his hands down your body. Belatedly, you realized your coat was now on the ground, drenched in the wet snow, and the unforgiving cold air was nipping at your exposed arms and legs.

“Gonna take you on a ride, girly,” he wickedly mumbled in your ear, and you tried your best not to flinch.

Through the cloudy haze of your brain, you managed to mimic Spike’s exact movements as you replayed the memory of his lean body demonstrating what to do. Lifting your knee to kick the suspect in his groin, you cringed as he let out a yell of pain. He bent over, and you took advantage of his momentary distraction by lifting yourself up and gracefully (you’d like to think) wrapping your thighs around his head, letting out a quiet grunt as you used all of your weight to flip the two of you over and onto the cold pavement. You shakily landed on your feet, but you heard a sickening crunch as the man’s face was the first to make contact with the concrete. The guilt almost bubbled to the surface, but you decided he was one of the few who deserved what he got.

You let out a quick huff as your ample chest heaved up and down with every breath. You could feel that your hair was a tousled mess, and your skirt had ridden up considerably.

“Holy shit.”

You looked up quickly and belatedly realized Spike had been standing there, casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He had a small smile on his face, though there was also an uncharacteristic red tint to his angular face.

“Spike?” you breathed out. Despite his relaxed expression, you were momentarily worried that he would be annoyed with you not following the plan.

“Quite the little badass, aren’t you?” he responded, no heat and all fondness.

You took a step towards him, though you swayed slightly. You grimaced at the idea of your bare knees hitting pavement, but more so at the fact that you’d be embarrassing yourself in front of Spike. Your confusion grew when you realized that you were suddenly gently lifted in someone’s arms. Perplexed, you looked up and made eye contact with warm brown ones.

When did he catch me? you silently thought to yourself, and you figured the concussion was a lot more serious than you had previously thought.

“You with me?” Spike softly mumbled your name, and you noticed the concern clouding his eyes. You suddenly realized how close your faces were.

“Concussion,” you quickly responded and you internally slapped yourself at the stupid response, “I, uh. I have one.”

Spike’s face broke out into his typical shit-eating grin, and you felt yourself lighten at the familiar expression.

“You’re cute,” he casually spoke. Spike’s smile widened at the pretty blush that had colored your cheeks.

Just then, a particularly relentless gust of cold air blew through the ally, and you unknowingly shivered. You boldly cradled yourself further into Spike’s broad chest, and his smile dropped upon remembering your current situation.

“Faye,” he snapped into the earpiece as he angled his face slightly away from you, “thank you for taking your sweet time.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, jackass. I’m almost there.”

Your shivering worsened, as the cold air nipped at your exposed arms, legs, midriff, and cleavage. Softly shifting your body so that you were comfortably held up with his one arm, Spike quickly pulled off his jacket with his free arm, and moved you so that he could hold you with his other arm as he completely took off his jacket. You hadn’t noticed, mainly due to the softness of his almost imperceptible actions, and so you were completely surprised when you suddenly felt a warm blanket cover your entire body.

Your eyes snapped open when you realized that it smelled way too good to be a blanket. You looked down at the familiar navy blue jacket that dwarfed your entire body, and you looked up into amused brown eyes.

His yellow shirt was casually rolled up at the sleeves, and the button-up was tightly fitted across his lean yet muscular figure. His arms flexed underneath your weight, and you relished in the feeling of his warm arms caressing the bare skin of your own legs and arms as he held you bridal style in the dark alley. Your stomach erupted into butterflies as the weight and intimacy of the situation set in. You were brought out of your thoughts when you realized he had caught you subtly checking him out again.

“Stop laughing at me,” you huffed as a wayward strand of your silky hair landed on your forehead.

“Why would I be laughing at you, pretty girl?” he mumbled, a smile dancing on his lips.

His lips.

They were so close to your own, and you were once again filled with the insatiable urge to kiss him. You blinked quickly at the thought. Your concussion must have been doing a real number on you.

Your internal confliction grew stronger with each passing second. A large, large part of you wanted to close the distance between you two and finally kiss Spike, consequences be damned. But the small, louder part of you was terrified. You were terrified of rejection, of your insecurities coming to light, of being just another meaningless fling to Spike. Your thoughts grew cloudier, and you were overtaken with the sudden urge to sleep.

Your eyes grew heavy, and your head began to loll against his broad chest. Noticing this, Spike’s smile dropped once again and he began to silently curse Faye and her damned time management skills. He hurriedly mumbled your name, his distress clearly evident in his deep voice.

“C’mon now don’t go falling asleep with a concussion,” he teased, and some of his worry for you was quelled when he heard your quiet, breathy laughter in response, “Careful, doc, looks like I’m doing your job for you.”

Your smile widened upon his teasing remark, mocking your words from earlier, and you rolled your eyes in response. “Smartass.”

“Never said otherwise.”

Once again, his lips were just the right distance from your own, and you felt an instant surge of confidence. You swallowed, and squashed every single worry and fear you had, reasoning that this was Spike, your Spike, and he wouldn’t hurt you.

“There is... there is one thing you can do to help the concussion,” you shyly said, your cheeks burning brighter than the red neon sign that loomed over you two.

Spike’s eyes widened and his face turned serious and desperate as he nodded. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

Butterflies erupted once again upon noticing how prepared he was to help you, and you smiled up in pure adoration at the tall man. Your eyes quickly darted to his lips then back up to those enchanting eyes.

“You have to come closer.”

Spike blinked once. A second time. And then he smiled softly at you. Understanding flashed in his eyes, and you swore his cheeks held the faintest of blushes. He leaned in closer.

“This close?” he knowingly teased, an encouraging lilt to his soft tone.

“Closer.”

You swore you could feel your heart in your throat as it sporadically beat faster the closer he came. His face was now right in front of yours, and you nervously swallowed. You licked your lips, and he looked down at them, mesmerized with the action.

“How’s this?” he smiled up at you, his usual playful smile on his handsome face.

“Spike,” you half moaned and half whined, frustrated with having him so close, yet not being able to finally get what you want.

His breath hitched at the sweet sound of you moaning his name, and he couldn’t help it before he leaned in slowly and met your soft lips. You closed your eyes and relished in the ecstatic feeling. The kiss itself wasn’t very long, yet everything about it was already burned into your brain. Your lips molded against his for a few more seconds before you softly pulled away and let out a dreamy sigh.

Your nerves attempted to get the better of you, yet you surprisingly felt reassured in your feelings for Spike. You silently looked up at him, but he was already looking down at you with nothing but warmth and fondness on his face. He softly reached down and tucked the wayward strand of hair behind your ear, before softly caressing your cheek. You leaned your face into his warm palm as you closed your eyes once more, and he felt his heart ache sweetly.

“You really should get concussions more often,” Spike cheekily said.

“Shut up,” you responded as you closed your eyes again to nuzzle your face into his chest. There was no heat in your response, and Spike couldn’t help but silently admire you.

He moved closer to you and gently kissed your forehead before straightening himself up. He tucked you closer into his chest and tightened his jacket around your figure.

Somehow, you weren’t as cold anymore.

“About damn time.”

Your eyes opened, and you mustered up as bright a smile as you could at your friend.

“Faye!”

An unamused expression donned Spike’s face, and he turned around to pointedly glare at Faye. “I could say the same thing to you. What, you saw a mirror on your way here?”

Faye had restrained the suspect at this point, her heeled shoes digging into his back as a way to alleviate the anger she felt at the man for what he did to you. She looked up and genuinely smiled at Spike, adjusting her coat.

“Jab all you want, Spike, but thanks to you, I won the little bet I had going on with Jet!”

Faye’s amusement grew when she saw your smile drop and Spike’s glare turn into a lofty smile almost simultaneously. You looked up at Spike, yet you flinched at the sudden movement, as the pounding in your head worsened. Concern washed over Spike, yet you shook your head in reassurance, before continuing.

“Spike— the earpiece!”

“You just had to make a move now,” Spike mockingly chided, though you knew he wasn’t as bothered as you were.

“Concussion!” you reminded him, and he cooed at the pout you gave him as his gaze softened.

You gulped before guiltily mumbling Jet’s name. “…Jet?”

“Two bonsai trees, you hear me? You owe me two bonsai trees now.”

#spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #spike x reader #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop fanfiction #this was so fun 2 write n i am sad its over #spike cowboy bebop

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gohyuck · 4 years ago

Text

prologue | part 1 | part 2 | part 3

pairing: greaser!jeno lee x rich!reader; part of a collab by @neovisioned

genre: greaser!au; runaways!au; criminal!au; angst/fluff/smut

word count: 10.4k

warnings: infidelity, miscarriages of justice, johnny’s a huge asshole in this i’m so sorry, a lot of straight up classism, explicit mentions of sex (fingering), vehicular manslaughter, armed robbery, general unarmed violence and fighting, pistol-whipping

a/n: so i know a lot of people loved the fact that my most recent long fic (surgeon jaemin!) focused on side characters, but i’ve made this fic pretty jeno-centric on purpose, and i hope it’s still as enjoyable as possible for readers!

May 29, 1957

He’s always been easy on the eyes.

It’s shallow, and a great part of him knows it. Still, as far back as he can remember, Jeno’s always had one thing, and one thing only: his looks. When he was 7 and starving on the streets, terrified of going back to a broken, lifeless home, he’d use his adorable face to elicit pity and pizza from the aging man who ran the local diner. When he was 15 and growing into himself, his blossoming attractiveness got the girl in his geometry class to give him her homework to copy off of, free of charge. When he’d first started working at the garage, a high school dropout at the age of 17, it was his ‘rugged handsomeness’ - review courtesy of the college girls who trailed their rich boyfriends as they searched for cheap fueling and car repairs - that called in tips by the handful.

Jeno’s always had his looks. That’s why, even though he thinks it’s silly of him, he can’t help but look at you with eyes that are overflowing with apprehension. He grips the blond hair-dye just a little too tightly, fingers making what’ll be lasting indents in the plastic box.

“Do I really have to do this?”

You arch an eyebrow, wrenching the dye out of his iron-grip as you do. Jeno watches, feeling more helpless than he has been this whole time as you shake its contents out into your hand. The bleach and the agent you mix it with fall into your open palm, followed by the barely darker dye. You read the instructions over once, twice, before finally looking up to meet Jeno’s trained gaze.

It’s all you can do to heave a heavy sigh.

“You were framed for a robbery, and then you stole a car and accidentally kidnapped me, but the hill you choose to die on is dyeing your hair? Really? If you’re like this now, what are you going to do when we get tattooed?”

“I - We - Tattoos?” Jeno squawks, and you can’t help but sigh again before rolling your eyes.

It’s going to be a long night. Amidst it all, you can’t help but think back to how everything started.

As Jeno keeps his glare trained on the dye, you can’t help but assume that he’s doing the same.

♕ ♕ ♕

Day One: May 25, 1957

Cherry red lips, wanton giggles, a skirt that’s too short, even by what she calls her ‘very own tramp standards’. Jeno can’t get enough of it all - can’t get enough of her, he’s so intoxicated by her. It’s in the way her head falls back, her mouth falls open, her knees fall down, allowing her legs to fall wide. He leans over her, his well muscled arms making it easy to hover instead of collapse on top of her as he coaxes her release from her, two fingers deep in her spasming cunt while his thumb works away at her clit. Jeno’s close - so close - to what he wants, but he doesn’t dare to chase after it; instead of pressing his lips to hers and tasting that enticing lipstick for himself, he settles for pressing his forehead against hers, letting his soft breath land against the silent scream her mouth is currently displaying.

Her chest heaves, her next breaths come out in gasps. As she settles down, Jeno can’t keep himself from dipping his head down, pressing a gentle and completely chaste kiss against the skin of her stomach between her belly-button and her underwear line. She squirms at the feeling of his warm lips against her now-hot skin, and he chuckles against her body before pulling away for good, though not before wiping his fingers on her thigh.

“‘S that good, Jess?” He quirks an eyebrow, pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket for her to wipe the sweat across her forehead with. “There’s grease on that s- yeah, that’s the good side.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl, Jeno Lee,” The woman responds dryly, though he doesn’t miss the pleased smirk that crosses her features. She swipes at her inner thighs once before tossing the handkerchief - or, really, rag - at the mechanic, who catches it with ease and stuffs it back where it came from.

“You’re the one who wanted to be fingered in the passenger seat of Johnny Suh’s car, filthy girl,” Jeno throws back, not surprised when Jess swats at his arm at the mention of her boyfriend. She loves Johnny, Jeno knows she does, but that doesn’t stop her from begging for Jeno’s fingers or tongue or, if she’s got time, his dick, whenever she stops by the City Motors garage that Jeno’s been employed at for the past two months. She always comes in driving Johnny’s red Chevy Bel Air convertible. He knows it’s bad of her and bad for him, especially if Johnny ever gets wind of it, but he can’t find it in himself to stop, not when it’s free spank bank material.

Jeno’s probably a bad person for it. He doesn’t really care - after all, it’s just sex. If emotions were involved - and they never are, not for Jeno, not when it comes to getting his dick wet - it might be a different story. That, and it’s Johnny Suh’s girl.

Jeno fucking hates Johnny Suh.

“Say, speaking of John,” Jess says, seemingly sufficiently cooled down by now. “I keep meaning to and forgetting to ask - you’re the same age as his sister, aren’t you?”

“(Name)?” Jeno asks, his brow furrowing when he gets a nod of confirmation. “Yeah, I mean, we were in the same homeroom and shit this past year. Why?”

“Just curious. You’ll probably see her a lot more often from now on, honestly - she got a job at the diner when they had that hiring spree last week.” Jess flicks her head vaguely towards Jeno, and he knows it’s because, if he turns around and looks out the window, he’ll be staring directly at Kim’s, what can be considered the only good eatery on this side of town. He tries his best to seem even vaguely interested at what Jess is saying - going so far as to crane his neck backwards in order to look at the same diner he sees day in and day out - but she calls his bluff easily. Instead of saying anything, she just rolls her neck out before finally shoving the car door open.

“Say ‘hi’ to her sometimes, y’know?” She asks, peering in once she’s standing. “For me. Forget that she’s a Suh sometimes. She needs to talk to more people, anyways.” Jess states, her gaze imploring. Still, Jeno can’t help but scoff at the last thing she says, prompting an affronted look from the woman who’s looking expectantly at him.

“(Name)? Needing to talk to more people? Everyone adores her, she’s always with some new person getting into some bullshit. Honestly, she probably needs to talk to less people at this point.” Jeno explains himself so as to not garner anymore adversity from his fuckbuddy, though the way he squints in mild disbelief at Jess’ suggestion annoys her anyways. The mild petulance that comes through only serves to remind Jess that Jeno is, in fact, only 19 - and while her being 21 doesn’t change their dynamic much, it does bring about some slight difference in maturity.

She tends to overlook it because the benefits seem to outweigh the detractors.

As Jess makes eye contact with Jeno, though, she knows he won’t listen to her friendly suggestion. She doesn’t know why she bothers, sometimes - even though she’s only in it for the sex, he’s really only in it for the sex. As far as anyone’s concerned, Jeno Lee does only two things, and he does them well: fix cars and fuck. Considering that he’s a high school drop-out with no plans of college or trade school, Jess supposes that he doesn’t have much else to do.

“Whatever,” She finally acquiesces, not bothering to return the small smirk Jeno throws at her. “What’s the time?”

“It’s about 4:45,” The mechanic responds without even checking his wristwatch, though Jess doesn’t doubt that he’s right. “What time’s he coming by for his car again?”

“Couple minutes past 5. Got a smoke? I need one.” Jess is still peering into the car from outside, her expression making it seem like she’s waiting for something more than a quick cigarette break. Jeno holds her gaze steady for a beat, two beats, before he breaks away, pushing the door open on his side so he can finally get out too. After all, the car is honestly kind of cramped, and absolutely not ideal for what they’ve been getting up to in it… week after week after week.

“You should tell your boyfriend to stop fucking up his car,” Jeno states simply, leaning over the fabric top of Johnny’s convertible. It’d been the left sideview mirror today, the transmission last week, the rims the week before. It wouldn’t surprise Jeno if Jess drives in four days from now with a crack in the windshield and her underwear already around her knees. Jess says nothing, only leveling Jeno’s stare. He waits, finally breaking it for the second time in a row once he’s sure she’s sweating a little bit in her new boots. The small smirk he allows himself as he beckons for her to follow him back into the garage is reward enough for him. There’s a pack of Camels set on his work bench, open in such a way that Jeno knows Jaemin must’ve taken one earlier when they’d started their shift together.

“Help yourself, doll.” Jeno says, gesturing vaguely towards it after pulling a cigarette out for himself. He swipes the lighter off of Jaemin’s desk - his friend’s on a late lunch break at the diner right now anyways - and uses it to light up his own smoke before tossing it underhandedly to Jess.

“Don’t ‘doll’ me,” She scoffs, her words muffled around the cigarette that’s now in between her lips. He admires her hands, her nimble red-tipped fingers as she lights it up, pulling it out from her mouth and letting it dangle between two fingers before setting the lighter down on top of the pack. “You know only Johnny’s allowed to call me that.”

“If he had that much of a handle on you, you wouldn’t be crying for my cock every week now, would you?”

“I don’t cry,” Jess protests, and Jeno finds both her sudden indignance, and the fact that this is the hill she chooses to die on, kind of cute. He has no feelings toward her, sure, but it doesn’t mean he can’t admire her for what she is: art. And someone’s gotta nail masterpieces against walls, right?

“You get the gist.” Jeno brushes her complaint aside with ease, blowing smoke out through one corner of his mouth before he speaks. “Tell him to watch where he parks so he doesn’t screw up his mirrors again. There’s gotta be some limit on daddy’s money.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” Jess throws back, and Jeno can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“His highness won’t talk to a lowly greaser like me, obviously. Probably thinks I spend all my tip money on hair oil or some stupid shit. You really picked one for yourself, Jess. Outdid yourself on the asshattery of the last one. The fact that he makes you drop his car off when he’s the one who screws it up should be a red flag itself.” Even talking about Johnny has a pit of dread growing in the bottom of Jeno’s stomach, and he drops his half-smoked cigarette to the ground before crushing it under his work boots. He knows it isn’t the cig making him feel sick, but he suddenly has no appetite left for nicotine anymore.

“You’re lucky our friendship predates my relationship, or I’d fuck you up for saying shit like that,” Jess warns, though there’s no real bite behind her bark. She drops her cigarette to the ground too, and Jeno steps on it so she doesn’t have to.

“Can’t believe you’re deciding to keep some kind of allegiance to me based solely on the fact that our moms used to stick us together when they went to whore around downtown while our dads were being drunken good-for-nothings somewhere or the other,” Jeno scoffs in faux disbelief even as his eyes fold into half moons. Jess allows herself a small grin at the expense of their younger selves as well. They both know better than anyone that shared traumas can only make bonds stronger. “When’ll you tell your prissy, pompous, prick of a partner that you’re one of the lowlifes he hates so much?”

“He already knows that I wasn’t… well off before I got my job at the salon,” Jess replies carefully, doing her best not to incriminate her boyfriend in the eyes of someone who already loathes him. “Besides, he honestly isn’t that bad. He says shit sometimes, yeah, but he knocks it off if I tell him to. Shouldn’t affect whether or not you talk to (Name), anyways.”

Jess slips you into the conversation so easily that it almost gives Jeno whiplash trying to process what she’s said. When he’s done, it’s all he can do but to let out a confused query.

“The hell does (Name) have to do with this?”

“I mean, you’re the same age, and you kind of know each other. I just figured that...”

Suddenly, Jess’ motives dawn on Jeno. Judging by the way she trails off, ending her sentence both sheepishly and abruptly, she sees that he’s figured her out, too.

“Are you fucking trying to set me up with your scummy boyfriend’s sister?”

“He isn’t scummy! And, I mean, not necessarily. Maybe. Just a little, but come on! Isn’t it right for me to want two people I love and care for to find love and caring in each other?” Jess’ words come out harried, and she flaps her arms around a bit to try and prove the point she just can’t seem to hit on. Jeno’s brows furrow even more, and he can’t help his incredulous snicker.

“You, Miss ‘I just got fingered by a childhood friend in my boyfriend’s car for what has to be, like, the sixth time in four weeks’, want to talk about what’s right and what’s not?” Jeno points out, and Jess winces slightly. He knows it’s a bit of a low blow - yes, Jess is a cheater, and it’s completely terrible of her, and maybe even Johnny Suh deserves better than someone who’s unfaithful, but if Jess is the one committing the crime then Jeno’s aiding and abetting. He can see the hurt flash across his friend’s features, and he allows himself to soften for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sure (Name) is nice and all, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now. If I was, I wouldn’t be messing around with you, or anyone for that matter.”

Jess sighs, but it’s a sigh of acceptance. She glances down wistfully at the smushed cigarette she’d abandoned earlier, making no move to get another one. Jeno assumes she’s trying to cut back - the cost of a pack has gone up again.

“I do love him, you know that, right?” Jess says, voice soft and sincere in a way that has Jeno’s eyes flicking up to meet her own. “I just - I can’t give all of myself to him, you know? Not yet, anyways. Not after everything that’s happened in my life. It isn’t justification, it’s just…”

“You’ve been dealt so many bad hands that you don’t know how to play poker anymore,” Jeno finishes, smiling gently at his friend. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just your pain relief, remember? You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Fuck first, friends later.”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around,” Jess rolls her eyes, though she knows he’s just messing with her. They might use each other, but their friendship predates any sexual relationships either of them have been having with anyone. They both know that Jess doesn’t just drop by the garage to drop her panties, although that is what happens first and foremost every time.

Before Jeno can quip back at her, the telltale thrum of a car’s engine draws his attention away from his friend. Both of them turn their heads simultaneously to see none other than Yuta Nakamoto pull up in his Thunderbird, Johnny Suh riding shotgun beside him. Jeno doesn’t miss the way Jess perks up, her grin dazzling as she spots her boyfriend. He can’t say the same for himself, not when his stomach drops at the sight of the two men.

Yuta at least has the ‘decency’ to shoot Jeno a patronizing smirk. Johnny doesn’t even acknowledge the man beside his girlfriend, instead turning directly to appraise his fixed up car after giving Jess a quick peck on the cheek.

“Funny,” Johnny remarks thoughtfully once he’s done with his once-over. “Are you sure you fixed this? It doesn’t reek of grease or anything. Maybe you underdid your hair today, kid, hmm?”

Jeno’s suddenly hyper-aware of how slicked back his pitch black hair is, and his fingers twitch at how badly he wants to push it back again, both out of nervousness and anger. He says nothing, only clenching his jaw in response.

“Leave him be, John,” Jess speaks up, holding her hand out for her boyfriend to take. He grabs it naturally. “He’s a good kid.”

Johnny’s cocky, holier-than-thou grin slips a little at seeing his girl - his girl - defend someone he equates to the bottom of his shoe, and Jeno notices it. For a moment, it seems like there’s a rebuttal sitting on the tip of his tongue. His necessity to keep his girlfriend’s approval wins him over, though, and Johnny says nothing more, only asking Jess to hand him the key he knows she has.

Yuta leaves first, though not before confirming their next whereabouts with Johnny. He slides back into the drivers’ seat of his Thunderbird, raises his eyebrow at Jeno through the windshield, and backs out slowly but surely. Jeno isn’t a big fan of Yuta, either, but at least the man respects his car.

The same can’t be said for Johnny.

He slams the passengers’ side door shut once Jess gets in, and Jeno can’t help the wince he gives at the noise. In that moment, he feels deeply for the Bel Air, wishing he could jailbreak it from the hell it must be experiencing at the Suh household. Right before Johnny gets into the driver’s seat, he stops, eyes flitting towards Jeno as he digs something out of his pockets.

Jeno watches as Johnny flicks a dime into the open tip jar they leave out on a rickety old stool, stands there and takes it as the older man shoots him the kind of wolffish grin that never reaches anyone’s eyes.

“Buy yourself something nice,” Johnny says, smirking as he looks Jeno up and down. He takes in the peeling leather on the greaser’s workboots, the grease stains on his blue jeans, the way his white tank top is soaked through with sweat, his ratty leather jacket lying across his workbench. When he looks back up, eyes meeting Jeno’s, the latter can’t help but feel as if he’s just been searched.

“At least… if you even know what ‘nice’ means.” Johnny finally finishes, smirking maddeningly at Jeno. Before any rebuttal can be made, Johnny’s inside his car and turning on the ignition. Jess waves goodbye to Jeno, albeit sheepishly, who only raises a hand in parting. It’s only after they’ve disappeared, tearing down Central Street, that Jeno registers Jaemin leaning against the corner of the garage. It’s evident by the way his friend is standing that he hadn’t actually witnessed anything, and Jeno finds that he wants to keep his interactions to himself today. It’s also evident that, while Jeno has nothing to tell Jaemin, the opposite does not stand true.

“What’s up?” Jeno asks, picking up and tossing the Camels at Jaemin on what is, by this point, sheer muscle memory. He throws the lighter right after, and Jaemin catches them both with ease. This is unsurprising - before school, life, and work all became too hard to balance, Jaemin had been a catcher on the local high school baseball team.

“There’s a new broad behind the counter at Kim’s,” Jaemin says, sticking the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it as he speaks, all with the kind of finesse that only comes from years of doing the same thing. “Looks familiar, ’m sure I’ve seen her before - pro’ly went to school together. Damn pretty, looks more your type than mine, though.”

Jeno doesn’t really care, frankly, but it’s Jaemin and he’ll always humor Jaemin. That, and they’ve got about an hour ‘til the next person with an appointment comes in, so he’s got some time to kill.

“You wouldn’t know if you went to school with her, considering you only ever fuckin’ showed up to play ball. I don’t think I ever saw you in class.” Jeno scoffs, though he knows he should probably keep speaking when Jaemin throws him a scathing glare. “How can you be so sure that she’s my type?”

Jaemin takes the cigarette out of his mouth, waving it around aimlessly as he finally walks over to his own workbench, right beside Jeno’s. He’s got a couple of chairs beside it, and he shoves one towards Jeno before sitting down himself. Jeno, for his part, swings his chair around so he can sit down backwards as he faces Jaemin, folding his arms over the back of it and resting his chin on top of his forearm. Once they’re both situated, Jaemin finally speaks again.

“Pretty, but doesn’t remind me of any of the greaser girls or the rich girls, somehow. Guess she doesn’t fit in that way. Smart, either talks animatedly or doesn’t say shit at all. Seemed all bright-eyed but with sum’n dark behind them. Mysterious, just a bit. Paint a good enough picture for you, asshole?” Jaemin good-naturedly flicks some ash towards his friend, drawing forth a chuckle from the other man.

“Sounds like you’re describin’ a book character,” Jeno throws back, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes even as he’s genuinely smiling. “Been spending too much time with Mark.”

“Maybe so,” Jaemin acquiesces, leaning forward in his chair to look Jeno in the eyes. He turns his head to the side, blowing smoke out through his lips before looking back. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s good for you. Really, I think you two could hit it off. Even got her number for you.”

“You’re that desperate to pawn me off, huh?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, though he holds out his hand for Jaemin to drop a slightly-crumpled napkin into. He might not go for whatever girl it is romantically, but it might be good to go on a date or two just to keep himself from getting too rusty with the girls. That, and he has to admit that sitting at home, tinkering with the house’s clocks or yelling at Donghyuck not to use up all the hot water for the week is less appealing than having a nice night out (or a nice night in, depending on the girl). He supposes he’s mildly optimistic as he unfolds the napkin, even allowing himself a small grin at the idea of doing something outside of his ordinary, everyday, work to home to work to home life.

Jeno’s smile fades fast once he sees what’s scrawled messily on the napkin in black ink.

(Name) Suh

XXX-XXX-XXXX ;)

He blinks once, blinks twice, before letting out a groan and allowing his head to drop onto the wood of the chair’s back. Jaemin, concerned, asks if he’s alright, but Jeno just ignores him, too busy wallowing in the cosmic irony of his best friend giving him the number of the one girl he would never get with.

“Is this about the chick or is it something else? I saw Johnny Suh pull out of here, that motherfucker. If he wasn’t giving us so much business all the time I would’ve TP’ed his house by now. Is it him? Don’t let him get to you-”

“Jaemin,” Jeno interrupts his best friend, finally looking up from his reprieve in the chair. Jaemin quits rambling almost immediately, his gaze running over Jeno’s unreadable expression. Jeno looks down at the note, up at Jaemin, and then back down at your handwriting again before letting out a weighty, long-suffering sigh.

“Jaemin,” Jeno repeats himself, finally making eye contact with his friend. “We need to have a talk.”

♕ ♕ ♕

“You saw that her last name is Suh and you didn’t stop to think that she might be related to Johnny fucking Suh? Really? I know you’re dense, Jaemin, but for Chrissakes!”

Renjun’s voice rings through the small, two bedroom house as he chastises Jaemin while the two of them cook dinner. Jeno’s sitting on the floor in the living room, fiddling with Donghyuck’s radio: he’s been meaning to fix it for weeks, now, but it’s only today that he’s really found the time. That, and he’s trying to avoid the ongoing argument that’s occurring while two of his friends are making meatloaf. He knows that he’s the reason for it, yes, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to be involved.

It isn’t Jaemin’s fault, really, and Jeno knows this. He can’t stay mad at his best friend in general, but he’s doubly inclined to let Jaemin off the hook because the younger boy has no clue as to why Johnny Suh is so universally hated in the Lee household. Jaemin doesn’t even live with them like Renjun does, so he’s blissfully unaware of exactly how marred the relationship between Jeno and Johnny is.

“I’m home, you fucks!” The front door swings open with abandon just as Jeno finishes straightening the radio’s antenna, and he winces at the screech of the door’s protesting hinges. He’s so startled that he almost drops the radio itself, but he manages to catch it in time. This is lucky - Donghyuck saunters into the living room at the right moment, seeing Jeno both fumble and save his precious radio. Jeno pretends like he doesn’t see the glare his cousin throws at him, instead waving in greeting to him before beckoning him over.

“They’re going at it in the kitchen,” Jeno says lowly once Donghyuck’s close enough to hear him. “I wouldn’t go in there just yet.”

Donghyuck mulls this information over in his mind for a moment before raising a single, perfect eyebrow. He snatches his radio from his cousin’s lap, securing it in his grip, and sits down beside Jeno before he chooses to respond.

“And what if I want to cause problems on purpose?”

“Didn’t you have a full day of doing that at work today?” Jeno asks rhetorically, causing Hyuck to roll his eyes over-exaggeratedly.

“Which job?” He throws back, and Jeno can’t help but laugh. Donghyuck cracks a smile, too, though neither of them know why: it isn’t funny, especially not when Hyuck is speaking truth. He’s worked two jobs since dropping out of high school alongside Jeno a year prior - one close to the rich side of town in a quaint bookstore frequented by nearby college students, and one as a local plumbers’ assistant. None of the boys ever know where he’s at, which is concerning to all of them but something nobody bothers bringing up with Hyuck.

Judging by the fact that he’s wearing jeans and a shirt that’s had the sleeves ripped off, Jeno feels as if it’s safe to say that Hyuck’s just gotten home from being under sinks and in cisterns. By this time, he typically would’ve washed the oil out of his hair and changed into his sleeping clothes. Jeno’s heart twinges at the idea that his cousin might have to go back out to work after eating.

“You gettin’ some sleep tonight?” Jeno’s query is soft-spoken, and Donghyuck can’t help but give him a sad smile before he slowly shakes his head no.

“On house call duty until 5 in the morning. I’ll be home to nap, have some eggs, and then get to the store, though. Maybe we’ll see each other then, brother.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Jeno sighs in a way that says he knows they won’t, and Donghyuck hits his shoulder with his own. They sit like that, in silence, listening to Renjun and Jaemin bicker for a few moments, wallowing in the harsher truths of their lives for a few short moments before Donghyuck, never one comfortable with the quiet, breaks it to ask the obvious question.

“What’s up with those two?” He tilts his head towards the kitchen, and Jeno sighs before dropping his head down and pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

“Jaemin wingman-ed me to one of the new hires at Kim’s.”

“That’s not so bad,” Donghyuck says, furrowing his brow at Jeno. “I mean, you’re a manwhore. Figured that isn’t something you’d particularly mind.”

“Shut up,” Jeno scowls, much to Hyuck’s amusement. “And that’s the pot calling the kettle black. It isn’t the act, it’s the victim.”

“The vic- the girl?” Donghyuck’s voice is incredulous now, and Jeno all but groans as he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No - I mean, maybe, considering it’s Jaemin she was talking to - but no, fuck. I meant me, I’m the victim.”

“And why is that?”

“Because the girl is - he got me (Name) Suh’s number, damn it. Of all the girls he could’ve talked to about me, it was her.”

Donghyuck’s teeth clench immediately at hearing the unholy last name, and the air leaving his mouth between his lips makes an odd, hissing noise. His grip on his radio tightens, the pads of his fingers whitening. It’s a beat, two beats, before Hyuck lets up on the thing he has in his hands, sighing with mild dejection.

“Jaemin only moved here right before high school,” Donghyuck rationalizes, though the darkness behind his pupils lets Jeno know that he isn’t happy about being reasonable. “And we never really talk about the thing with Doyoung. I guess he either didn’t register that they’re related or he thinks our hatred is only over the class bullshit Johnny pushes on us whenever he sees us. I’m surprised you never told him the whole story, though - you two are as close as brothers.”

“What, you jealous?” Jeno teases on instinct, mainly aiming his witticism at the last phrase Hyuck had uttered. His cousin rolls his eyes once again, nudges his shoulder once again. Jeno grins, dropping his gaze to his hands.

“It isn’t that I wanted to keep it from Jaemin - it just never came up. He hates Johnny, too, but it isn’t in the same way as us. I guess I’ll explain it tonight - we’ve got an early shift at the garage tomorrow, as it is.”

“Let me guess,” Donghyuck sighs. “You start at 5?”

“Damn straight.” Jeno smiles sadly. “We aren’t kids anymore, Hyuckie, are we?”

“No sir,” Donghyuck smiles back, running a thumb over the radio’s buttons. “But goddamn, does adulthood suck when you don’t even have time to be with your family. Speaking of, where’s that idiot older brother of mine?”

“I heard that, you asshat!” Jeno looks up just in time to see Mark box Donghyuck’s ears, albeit as gently as possible. Still, the youngest Lee winces in pain, whining at the sudden attack.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Jeno notes, grinning up at his older cousin. “Didn’t hear you come in. How much did you hear?”

“Came in through the back. If you’re talking about whatever is happening in the kitchen, then nothing. If you’re talking about your explanation of whatever is happening in the kitchen, then everything. You two are not observant in any way, shape, or form - I’ve been here for a couple of minutes. I agree, by the way - you should tell Jaemin about it.”

“Tell Jaemin about what?”

Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark all turn their heads simultaneously to see Jaemin and Renjun walk in, the former balancing the meatloaf on a tray and the latter holding a stack of plates, knives, and forks. Mark, who’s already standing anyways, leans over, grabbing some of the cutlery to ease up Renjun’s load. Jaemin sets the tray down on the floor after kicking aside the tools Jeno’d been using on the radio, and once he straightens up, he looks down at his best friend expectantly.

Jeno meets Jaemin’s gaze, takes note of the annoyance that’s still etched across Renjun’s features, and sighs. He runs a hand down his face before looking up again, this time meeting everyone’s eyes individually. Finally, he asks what he thinks is most important of all before starting on his spiel.

“When are the kids getting here?”

♕ ♕ ♕

Chenle and Jisung have to convince their respective parents that, yes, they have in fact completed all of their homework and studied for all their upcoming tests, before they’re allowed to head over to the Lees’ house for dinner. Both boys - the only two still left in high school, both juniors - come over in no time at all, seeing as they live in the houses on either side of Jeno’s.

“Why the fuck are we having family dinner?” Chenle asks, voice booming as he walks in without any prior announcement. Jisung, who’s trailing right behind him, quietly shuts and locks the door.

“Jaemin fucked up,” Renjun says, right at the same time as Mark responds with a “Because I said so.” Jisung and Chenle share a look - each with an eyebrow raised in confusion and mild anticipation - before sitting down, Jisung on the right of Jaemin and Chenle right beside Hyuck. Jaemin immediately ruffles the youngest boy’s hair, pairing it with a ‘You’re doin’ good in school, right? Good with all those books ‘n’ shit?’, to which Jisung, as always, nods while trying to dodge Jaemin’s next loving attack. Out of the seven men and boys currently having dinner in the house, only Mark and Renjun have their high school diplomas.

Jeno was so close to living a different life. He does his best not to think about what could have been. Instead, he starts talking, commanding everyone’s attention in the way only he can.

“We think it’s… time we talked about Doyoung.” Jeno lets the words settle, resting against their skin before seeping into their bones. He sees Chenle visibly shudder, Donghyuck resting a soothing palm against his younger friend’s upper back. Renjun lets out a heavy sigh, and Jisung bites at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making the sad, choked noise he certainly was about to let out.

Jaemin, for his part, says nothing, only waiting patiently in a way that’s become his signature. Jeno thinks there’s nobody in the world more caring than Jaemin, sometimes, and his best friend never ceases to prove him right.

“Doyoung’s my older brother’s best friend - you remember Taeyong, right? Yeah, he’s Taeyong’s best friend.” Mark explains, looking straight at Jaemin once everyone seems to have recovered from the mild shock. It’s understandable, of course - they never talk about Doyoung. It’s been years, and not once has The Incident come up.

There’s always a time for everything, Jeno supposes.

“Does this have anything to do with why Taeyong’s in jail?” Jaemin’s question is tentative at best, but Jeno can see that he’s just piecing things together in his mind. All six of the other boys nods simultaneously, murmuring affirmative answers as they do.

“About five years ago, Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung, and, uh… what’s his name? Nakamoto, or whatever, him... The four of them were fucking inseparable, did everything together. Johnny’s parents are known classists and elitists and whatever other -ists exist, but Johnny never seemed to be that way. Doesn’t matter, anyways. Rich kids are all the same in the end.” Donghyuck speaks this time, shedding more light as the story unfolds. The bitterness in his voice is highly evident, but nobody can blame him - they all know what it’s like to be ridiculed, pariahed because of poverty. All seven of them had forsaken the idea of trust ages ago.

“One night, Johnny and Yuta went out and got halfway to blind drunk at some bar they weren’t supposed to be at. Yuta at least went and decided to walk home instead of driving his car back, but Johnny didn’t give a fuck. ‘Course, he hit something almost immediately after getting in the damn thing, but he was too fuckin’ pussy to check and see what had happened.” Renjun tacks on after Donghyuck, adding on the next part of the infamous, unfortunate tale. Chenle is the next to speak.

“He was near a phone booth, so he called Doyoung to come help him. Doyoung and Taeyong both hurried to help their friend, figuring he must’ve gotten hurt, only to find that he’d- he’d…”

“That he’d hit and killed the son of the mayor at the time,” Hyuck finishes, noticing how Chenle hesitates to go on. “Johnny had called the cops right after calling Doyoung, and the pigs got there not a minute or two after my - Mark and my - brother and Doyoung did. They immediately assumed one of them had been driving, and then assumed that the car had been stolen from Johnny rather than being Johnny’s itself. Fucking Suh never clarified, only stood by while his friends got hauled off. They knocked my big brother on Grand Theft Auto. Seven years for a crime he didn’t fucking commit. Still, at least we get to visit him every week.”

“They took in Doyoung in on manslaughter - not even vehicular manslaughter. He pleaded guilty to it because he knew they’d charge Taeyong with it if he didn’t, and Taeyong was looking after the rest of us - Renjun included - at the time. We don’t have any fucking parents, and Doyoung knew it. He’s already done five years, but he’s spending the next decade of his life in a federal super max, and we aren’t allowed to see him. Poor thing - Taeyong ended up getting jailed, too. Doyoung couldn’t’ve have known. Don’t know if he knows now, even.” Jeno finishes the story, voice quivering with rage and the few unshed tears that always accompany his thoughts about the huge miscarriage of justice his family and friends have faced. Taeyong’s room is still the same as it was five years prior, untouched.

“Johnny was a witness in both cases, and he took the stand against them, saying they really did do what the cops said they did,” Jisung finishes, voice soft but emotionally charged. “My mom and Chenle’s mom stepped in as best they could to take care of Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Hyuck afterwards until Mark got grown, but I just know it isn’t the same as Taeyong.”

“Your moms are angels,” Mark responds, smiling kindly at the two youngest members of their ragtag group. “They saved our lives. Of course, they wouldn’t have had to do so if…”

“If Johnny Suh hadn’t ruined them first.” Jeno completes the thought, Donghyuck and Renjun nodding in agreement. Jaemin says nothing, only looking each of them in the eyes earnestly.

He gets it, Jeno decides. The rest of them must see this as well.

After dinner, when Jeno goes to the bathroom to brush before sleeping, he finds a thoroughly sodden piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the basin. It takes him a moment to realize what it is - the sharpie has bled into one large blob. Jeno smiles to himself before getting to work cleaning it up.

He scrapes your phone number off of his sink with his bare nails and sleeps easier that night than he has in a long while.

♕ ♕ ♕

Day Two: May 26, 1957

Jeno’s always been good with time. It’s a gift, though it’s rare he acknowledges it: being able to more-or-less accurately tell the time without ever looking at a clock is hardly the kind of superpower people dream about.

You leave work at around 3 p.m. - Jeno knows this because he’s out in front of the garage, sat on the hood of Jaemin’s rusty pickup truck nursing a ham sandwich when you walk out of Kim’s, unbuttoning your uniform’s top few buttons as you find your brother’s waiting car. He’s too far away to hear the words you exchange with Johnny, but he watches as you glare into the Chevy for an excruciatingly long amount of time before heaving a sigh and re-buttoning your shirt.

Jeno doesn’t watch as the two of you drive away, but he doesn’t have to. Johnny always drives like he deserves more respect on the road than his car does, and it boils the younger man’s blood more than anything. After all, Jeno’s always been able to count on machines. People? Not so much. Cars respect him, so he respects them.

He finishes the sandwich, immediately replacing it with an unlit cigarette. ‘Oral fixation’, Donghyuck had smirked at him one night ages ago, only to have gotten a shoe thrown at him by Renjun. Jeno can’t say that his cousin is wrong, but he’ll die before he lets Hyuck know that. He thinks back to the morning, when he’d left to come to work. He’d only seen Jaemin and nobody else, and that was just because Jaemin had been his ride.

Speaking of Jaemin- he’d been right: you’re pretty. You’ve always been pretty, but Jeno tries to ignore it. Nobody related to the scum of the Earth Johnny Suh himself can be beautiful both inside and out - he’s never been more sure of anything. Such a thought process might be unfair, sure, but he reckons it’s better that he avoid you altogether rather than get caught up like his family members had. That’s how life goes: you hunt or get hunted.

Jeno will be damned if he ever finds himself being the prey again.

Jess drops by at around 4:15, no necessity behind her visit. They don’t do anything, not this time, though Jeno does have to force himself to stop imagining her lipstick leaving marks in places the sun can’t see, his fingers leaving bruises along her skin. Jaemin raises an eyebrow when he sees them talking, though he doesn’t say anything, only tossing Jess his pack of Camels. It’s only got one cig left in it, so Jeno lights it and puts it to her lips. She blows out a ring of smoke before he takes a drag from it himself, his fourth smoke of the day.

“You should apply for a dealership job or something,” Jess says at around 4:30, and Jeno’s now hyper-aware of her reason for visiting. He scoffs, handing the cigarette back to her for good. It’s suddenly the most unappetizing thing in the world. She notices his expression, but slogs on anyways, hoping that she’ll get through to him. “I’m serious! You’re smart, Jen, real smart. You could do worse than sellin’ cars to crackpots in suits. You’d make more cash, too.”

Her drawl only comes back to her when she’s talking to her childhood friends, and Jeno supposes it’s an unwitting act of classism. They don’t ‘speak good’, as Jaemin would teasingly put it, but they have heart. It’s something that’s hard to find in people who have more money. Jess has grown up like them, yes, but in some ways she’s no longer part of the world Jeno’s forced to live in. It’s a world where he’s got family and friends in jail, where his own brothers - he almost never calls them his cousins, because they’re brothers if he’s ever had any - have to work two jobs just to make sure all of them get by, where their friends have to do the same. Jess has a stable job now - kudos to her - and a rich boyfriend. She’s set for as long as she can hope to be.

She’s okay with doing up the hair of ladies who sit idly and gossip about the ‘filthy poors’ in the south side of town. Jeno can hardly look rich folks in the eyes without gritting his teeth into dust. He’s well aware that they are not the same.

“Why this sudden interest in my career?” Regardless, he only questions her coolly, unwilling to start an argument that won’t find an end any time soon. There’s no telling when a car will come in and Jess will have to leave so the boys can do their work, and, besides, this isn’t a discussion he wants to have. Not with Jess. Not with anyone.

He’d been so, so close to going to college with a full ride. Jeno had dreams once. He’d been a fool to even think of possessing such intangible commodities. He doesn’t have any anymore.

“I just… you’re brainy as hell. It’s a shame seeing you as a grease monkey when you could do more with your life, is all. I mean well, Jen, you know I do.” Her eyes are wide in earnestness, and Jeno can’t help but sigh. It’s not Jess’ fault he’s a realist, that he’s lost opportunities before. Before he can say anything in response, though, probably breaking her heart just a little bit in the process, Jaemin pipes in.

“If I have to drop him off at a dealership everyday in the hunk o’ junk I drive while he’s dressed up in a three-piece suit, I’ll hang myself using a chain of grease rags. Besides,” He chuckles, tilting his head at his best friend. “Who’ll keep my sorry ass company here at the shop?”

A corner of Jeno’s mouth lifts up immediately at the save, and it’s all he can do to shrug and gesture towards his best friend in agreement. Jess rolls her eyes before darting her gaze between the two men, and once she realizes that she really won’t get anywhere with either of them, she only sighs and shakes her head, dropping the idea for good… for now.

“That’s not the only reason you came here.” Jeno states, keeping an eye out for any potential customers. It’s a Sunday, though, so he doubts many people will come by. Church hasn’t been out for long - he knows this for sure because Mark never fails to attend, no matter how heavy his university course load gets and let alone how many hours during the week he’s had to work. He’s the only one currently pursuing a higher education, and Jeno thinks that he might be the only one tenacious enough to do so.

It’s a shame - Jeno’d been real smart in school. So had Hyuck. They both know Mark beats himself up everyday for being the only one of the Lees who’ll get a Bachelor’s, but they both also know that he’s least likely to jeopardize his education. If anyone deserves college, it’s Mark.

“How’d you guess?” Jess draws the mechanic out of his thoughts, and he blinks rapidly before orienting himself back in reality. His smirk returns - Jeno thinks he might use it as a facade too much at this point - and he can only laugh.

“I didn’t - it was a shot in the dark. What’s up?”

Jess opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by Jaemin, who doesn’t realize she’s about to talk. Jeno’s best friend tosses him the beat up truck’s keys in a perfect arc, throwing him a well-meaning grin while he’s at it.

“We won’t get much work today,” Jaemin states as Jeno catches the keys nimbly. “I’ll walk down to Church today, haven’t been in a while. Might be nice.”

“If you’re gonna go every three months at most, what’s the point of goin’ at all?” Jess asks, only mildly peeved at having been interrupted. Her grin is sunny, though, and Jaemin knows that she’s just teasing. A friend of Jeno’s is a friend of his; the vice versa also tends to ring true.

“Unlike this one over here,” Jaemin jabs a thumb out towards Jeno. “I still believe. That, and I figured I’d walk Mark home. Don’t get to see him too often, y’know?”

“Hey- “ Jeno starts, stopping immediately as Jess waves him off with one hand.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just disillusioned with everything he can’t see. Catholic Church included. Of course, whenever his grandparents are in town, he still pretends.” Jess explains sagely, much to Jaemin’s amusement and Jeno’s disgruntlement. The latter rolls his eyes, raising the hand enclosing the keys in a wave goodbye as Jaemin pushes himself off of the wall he’s leaning against.

“Funny how Mark’s a Protestant and so is Hyuck - kind of, I don’t think he’s super religious at this point - but you’re a Catholic.” Jaemin notes, and Jeno shrugs for the second time in one day.

“Mark & Hyuck’s dad was a Pastor, my dad converted to Catholicism for shits and giggles when he was, like, 15. They might be brothers, but they aren’t the same. I was never the religious disgrace of the family, though,” Jeno notes, a small, sadder smile replacing his grin momentarily. “Not after Taeyong said he’s an atheist. Anyways, Mark’s probably on his way home already, if you leave now you might be able to catch him.”

Jaemin knows better than to press, only nodding, raising an eyebrow for a split second, and turning on his heel before easing himself into a jog. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, and his hair is as shaggy as ever, and Jeno thinks churchgoers might faint upon seeing him. He also knows that Jaemin doesn’t mind.

“Now you,” Jeno looks at Jess once Jaemin is out of sight. “What’s up?”

Jess’ shoulders droop immediately, and for a moment she looks so forlorn that she doesn’t even look like herself. The expression passes as quickly as it had come into view, and Jeno accepts the nonchalant smile she gives him like it’s what she means to project outward.

“John’s been secretive lately.”

She says so much more with her eyes than she does with her mouth. Jeno sighs, tilting his head as he does to survey his friend for a moment. Jess is conflicted, that much is evident, and Jeno doesn’t quite know why. Nevertheless, he’s always made sure to keep his head out of other people’s business. He won’t change now.

“If you’re worried that he’s cheating, why don’t you talk to him about it?” Jeno says it like it’s easy, like Jess isn’t unfaithful to her own boyfriend. His eyes dart out towards the street again - nobody’s coming in for repairs. Jess lets out a huff of air, and Jeno realizes she must think his words are sarcastic rather than as earnest as he’s meant them to be.

“I’m being ridiculous, I know, it’s just- I just… I don’t know. It isn’t even that he’s acting super different, he’s just being more… conspiratorial? With his friends? It’s more of a feeling than anything else, I guess. I must sound fucking insane.” She runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face even as she casts her eyes towards the ground. She may be trying to reassure herself that she isn’t seeing things, but it’s called a sixth sense for a reason.

“You have good intuition,” Jeno rushes to assure her that she isn’t losing her mind. “I hope you’re wrong, but… maybe you and your boy toy need to have a good talk. From both sides.”

“Yeah,” Jess responds, not knowing what else to say. “Yeah. I just had to say it out loud to someone that wasn’t my reflection, I think. I’ll figure it out. Anyways, I have a couple regulars dropping by at the salon today, so I should probably- ”

“Go to work,” Jeno cuts in, his smile forgiving. Of what, neither of them are sure. “We have all the time in the world to talk. Bye, Jess.”

“Bye, Jen.” Is the response he gets, and then Jess is on her way. The day is silent again, now that Jaemin and Jess are both gone, but Jeno finds that he doesn’t really mind it. It’s not so bad- with no customers, no coworkers, and no friends around, Jeno gets to sit and think.

That’s what he does best.

♕ ♕ ♕

It’s 6:27 in the evening when it happens.

For once in his life, Jeno checks his wristwatch. He isn’t sure why the sudden compulsion to actually know the time overcomes him, but he chalks it up to ‘dying from boredom’ and thinks nothing else of it. After all, the rags won’t clean themselves and the shop’s workbenches are only as neat as their owners. Jeno isn’t the most put together person alive, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t mind mess.

So he cleans, even when he’s the only one who’s doing it.

He’s in the midst of organizing his wrenches in size order when a familiar red Bel Air glides into the diner’s parking lot, top down with Johnny Suh’s loud laughter audible even from across the street. The music blaring from his car radio is only almost as loud as he is, and that’s saying something, because Johnny takes up every space he’s ever in. Yuta Nakamoto is beside him like he always is, though he’s more reserved than usual. Jeno does his best not to pay them any heed, but it’s difficult when his own responsibilities are mind-numbingly boring at the moment. He’ll take any entertainment he can get, even if it’s Johnny fucking Suh being the true neighborhood nuisance once again.

Funny how people look at Jeno funny when he walks down streets minding his own business, but they don’t say jackshit about a Suh kid blasting Elvis in public right before dinner time.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Jeno actually manages to finish his tool-sorting and is getting ready to finally, finally pack up when the music stops. Johnny must’ve parked. The burgeoning night is eerily silent, and the young mechanic pauses what he’s doing - making sure he has everything, mostly - because the world seems like it’s holding its breath. Just as he’s about to relax, slump his shoulders, and get back to his own work, he hears it.

Of course he hears it. It’s impossible to miss.

The scream shatters the silence into a million pieces, startling Jeno so hard he almost drops Jaemin’s car keys. He’s rushing out of the garage before he can think, and it’s moments later that he sees none other than Johnny Suh and Yuta Nakamoto rushing out of the diner, stuffing what look like pistols into the waistbands of their jeans. There’s cold, hard cash grasped in each of their hands, and Jeno cannot, for the life of him, comprehend what he’s seeing.

He makes brief eye contact with Johnny Suh, and the recognition in the older’s narrowed eyes freezes Jeno’s blood. There’s no time to ponder this, though - not when Johnny pulls out and rushes away within seconds, his car roaring to life on the town’s streets. Jeno’s just witnessed a robbery - a robbery by one of the richest and most powerful people in the area. Jeno’s just witnessed a robbery, and the criminal himself is aware of this.

As he watches the owner of Kim’s run out, hands on his head in panic and disbelief, all Jeno can think about is how Johnny Suh is going to try to shut him up. Jeno is now the star witness to a criminal act. There’s no way he’ll sleep tonight.

He leaves City Motors with duller eyes than he ever has, his workstation spotless and mind swallowed in darkness.

At least now he knows why Johnny’s been weird towards Jess lately.

♕ ♕ ♕

Jaemin drops Mark off at the Lee household with a parting hug, clasping their hands together in a high five before pulling each other into their chests and clapping each other on the back. Each other. Jaemin might be the ‘newest’ addition to their band of seven, but he doesn’t feel any different from the rest of them. They’re his brothers, and he’ll always have their backs. They’ll always have his.

Mark invites him inside, but Jaemin declines - he’s out of chewing gum, of all things, and he knows the sketchy convenience store by the alley near 7th Street always sells at half price on Sundays. He bids the older man goodbye again, throwing him a lax two-finger salute and a small smirk before turning on his heels and jamming his hands into his jean pockets, a stance that does nothing to help his already awful posture.

He whistles all the way down to the store - Kun’s Konvenience - mostly because he can’t get the tune Hyuck is always humming out of his head, but also because he feels almost truly happy. Sure, his future looks like it’ll lie in the City Motors garage for the rest of his life, and sure, maybe he shouldn’t step foot inside Church - the dirty looks had been telling today - but that doesn’t dampen his mood. The sun is shining, the sky is a brilliant blue. Kun’s is selling gum for cheap, and Jaemin’s in need of it. He rounds the final corner and the short, squat red brick building he’s looking for comes into view.

His hand is closing in on the handle of the store’s front door when another, slightly larger, hand places itself on top of his.

Jaemin barely has time to step back when a fist connects with his jaw. Through his swimming vision, he sees Johnny Suh raise a pistol, and he doesn’t have the time to raise his hands before the butt of the gun collides with the side of his head. The last thing Jaemin remembers before passing out entirely is the ugly, ugly sneer across the older man’s face as he glares down at him.

“Sorry. Blame your meddling friend.” Johnny spits out, placing a well-aimed kick in Jaemin’s side as his finale.

♕ ♕ ♕

It’s 8:32 at night when the landline rings. Mark’s studying and both Donghyuck and Renjun are out at work, so Jeno’s the only one available to pick up the phone. Typically, he’d be wary of doing so - the neighborhood elementary schoolers have only recently discovered the cheap thrills that come with prank calling - but something compels him to hear out whoever’s on the other end.

There’s a crackling noise, and what sound like hushed whispers, and this goes on for so long that Jeno’s about to either yell something about working on homework instead of pranking or just hang up without a word when the other person finally speaks. Jeno sets down the dish he’s washing, pays no mind to the way it clatters into the otherwise-empty sink when Johnny fucking Suh finally opens his damned mouth.

“Caught an eyeful down at City Motors today, didn’t you?” He asks, casually, as if there are no underlying threats hiding beneath his overly honeyed words. As if he isn’t the one who’s committed a crime, as if Jeno’s the one with the gun and the money he never earned. Bile rises almost automatically in the younger man’s throat, but he can’t bring himself to put the phone down anymore. It’s as if he’s stuck.

“What do you want?” Jeno manages to hiss out when the urge to vomit recedes, and the way Johnny chuckles in response sends chills down Jeno’s spine. There’s something sickeningly sinister about the situation they’re caught in, and Jeno knows that he’s unprepared for when the other shoe drops. His mind can’t even work properly, not when there are so many ways for this to go.

“Police will be at your door tomorrow morning, looking to arrest the Kim’s robber. I’ll have given them a helpful tip by then, of course. Wouldn’t be good of me to know who it is and not let the local law enforcement know. Also… left you a present in the alleyway by that one convenience store your kind go to. Think it goes by the name of… Jaemin?”

Jeno’s blood runs cold at the mention of his best friend’s name. Johnny doesn’t stop speaking.

“He was real easy to drag by his feet after I got him in the head, though getting rid of the trail of blood by the store was a little harder. I’m about half sure I left him breathing, but-”

The landline slips out of Jeno’s hand, no active effort made to put it down. Everything suddenly feels as if it’s in slow motion, as if his muscles are made of lead and his tongue is made of sandpaper, but he hears himself calling out for Mark before his own actions register in his mind. He must sound frantic, because he can hear his older cousin practically sprint down the stairs even through the haze his mind is in. Jaemin. Jaemin’s hurt. Jaemin’s bleeding, Jaemin’s in pain.

“What? What the fuck happened- Who was on the phone- Jeno? What happened?” Mark’s voice is panicked enough, rushed enough, to shake Jeno out of his stupor. His anguish moves aside, making way for rightly placed rage as he meets his family member’s eyes. When he speaks, his voice is choked, barely restrained and yet so, so pained.

“We need to go to Kun’s,” Jeno states, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. He can’t cry, not now, not when a clock might be ticking. He hasn’t cried in ages. He can’t cry now. Jaemin needs him. He can’t waste his time crying. “We need to go to Kun’s.” He repeats.

“It’s Jaemin.”

#first #five #tags #don't #work #jeno #jeno smut #jeno fluff #jeno angst #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jeno scenario #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #nct jeno x reader

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btsmosphere · 4 years ago

Text

Sparkle | JJK

~summary:

Jungkook may have been planning a little something... a powercut is only a small barrier

Jungkook x female!reader

~word count: 2.5k

~roommates au, friends to lovers, getting together, fluff

Rating: g

Warnings: irresponsible milk drinking(?), tons of fluff

~a/n: so I am taking part in a bingo writing challenge with @btsholidaybingo and this is the first of my bingo squares: ‘xmas lights’!! It’s a really fun challenge and I am working on a lot more to come!

At this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you can enjoy the Christmas lights. From your window, it feels as if you can see the whole city – your house is right at the top of the hill.

Right now, when you can turn your own light off and admire the multicoloured constellations sprawled across the valley, it’s nice. However, when you go to bed it’s a different story. In the darkness of your room at night, it’s all too easy for the festive glow to sneak around your curtains and keep you awake.

Jungkook’s cooking at the moment, so you don’t want to go out and see what kind of horrors are going on in your kitchen.

At least it means he’s taken his music with him. That’s the thing about Jungkook: he’s always surrounded by music. And really, you don’t mind it. In fact, it’s something you’ve come to love. It’s reassuring, knowing another living person is just next door even if you’re snowed under with work and haven’t seen him all day.

And if you haven’t seen Jungkook, it is a bad day indeed.

But at this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you will take the peace and enjoy the Christmas lights.

Blinking, you realise you zoned out. The lights were floating in your unfocussed vision, but you soon pulled your attention back in. Sweeping your eyes once more over the cityscape, you noticed a darker section.

Then another patch of lights blinked off.

Vaguely, your memory reminded you that was what had jerked you to attention a moment ago. Lights cutting out. It felt like they should merely flicker, and you watched, feeling as if you were in mid-air, waiting for the inevitable moment of meeting the ground again.

But instead, a whole new square of the city fell into darkness.

And then, suddenly, you were blinking, eyes protesting at the newfound dark you had been submerged in. You were frozen, for a second.

Then you whipped around, as if you would find something coming up behind you. Nonsense, really. Your room had already been in darkness to let you watch the lights.

Walking across the space with nothing but muscle memory, your hand stretched out, hesitantly groping for the light switch. When your fingers stumbled across it, you flicked it.

Nothing.

With a sigh, you flipped the switch back off and stuck your head from your bedroom door.

“Kook?”

Your voice came softer than you expected, probably not reaching down the hall. Just as you cleared your throat, the concerning sound of something clattering to the floor interrupted you.

Eyebrows shooting up, you went straight to investigate.

“Kook!” you called into the dark kitchen. As you squinted, you could make out a human-sized shape on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“I think the power went out,” his voice returned.

Though you rolled your eyes, a smile sprung irresistibly to your face.

“Yeah, I had noticed,” you chuckled, “do you need some help-?”

Stepping into the space, it seems your calculations were off. Jungkook was a lot closer than you had expected and your leg hit him, tripping you up. But before you could topple over, Kook’s hands materialised at your hips, pushing you upright again.

“Woah, hey,” he laughed breathlessly, “careful.”

Clambering up from his knees to stand in front of you, you could hear the charming smile he was flashing at you rather than see it. Flustered, you stepped back and away from his hold. For a moment longer, he seemed to forget himself before he dived back down to retrieve the bowl he had dropped.

“Right, well, er,” you struggled to collect your thoughts, “don’t open the fridge until the power comes back. Do we have any candles, or anything-“

“Wait, Y/N, I just started cooking! I need to put everything back in the fridge. What if I open it really fast?”

“I don’t know…” you admitted.

Standing side by side in the dark, staring at the fridge for some sort of answer, you never felt more like a student. Which, of course, you were, but you hadn’t felt this clueless about something since the first time you did your own washing in first year.

“Well, I already cooked the bacon,” Jungkook said, “so it’s really just the milk and cheese.”

“I suppose you could risk opening the fridge,” you shrugged.

“Maybe…” he was chewing his lip. You knew he was.

Sighing, you spun on your heel and headed towards the door again.

“I’m going to go and see if we have any candles, or something.”

Back in your room, you rummaged blindly in your drawer for your phone. Often, as today, you stored it in there to avoid getting distracted by it when you had work to do.

Thankfully, it lit up, but boasted pitifully low charge. You just had to hope it would last long enough for you to find an alternative light source.

Pressing the button for the torch, you started at your wardrobe, wondering if you had any candles left over from birthday presents tucked away. None there, or in your desk or underneath your bed. Resurfacing from between the dusty boxes you kept under there, you slumped back against your bed.

Casting your eye fruitlessly around your room once more, you heaved yourself to your feet.

“Kook, can I go look in your room?” you called, walking back down to the kitchen.

Instead of a response, though, you were met with a spluttering sound. Entering the room, your torch illuminated Kook, hunched over with a milk bottle in one hand. His other was covering his mouth.

“What are you doing now?” you asked, incredulous.

Lifting his head, he coughed once more, sending a single drop of milk down his chin. His shirt was also spattered with it. Tilting you head, you raised your eyebrows.

“Please tell me you’re not chugging our milk.”

“You said not to open the fridge,” he mumbled weakly.

“Oh my god…” you sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the sudden burst of laughter that overtook you when he gave you full puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re a mess, Jeon Jungkook,” you smiled, “go and get another sweater.”

“This is the only one you haven’t stolen!” he protested.

Biting your lip, you looked bashfully down at the large black jumper you currently had on. Maybe he was right.

A second afterwards, your phone light drastically dimmed. There it stayed for a moment longer as you met Kook’s eyes, before you were both sent back into darkness.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “okay. You can have this jumper, but you need to take that one off. And then we need to find some lights.”

Knowing you were under the cover of darkness, you lifted Jungkook’s sweater over your head and held it out for him. Standing in only your bra and jeans, you noticed the effects of the heating being down.

“Kook,” you shook the jumper in what you hoped was his direction, “take it, come on. I’m cooold.”

“S-sorry,” he stammered, fabric soon leaving your hand.

Trekking back through the hallway, Kook following you this time, you parted ways to go into your respective rooms. You made your way to your wardrobe again with arms outstretched and felt around, picking the first jumper you came into contact with.

“Tada!”

The shout came as you had just put one arm into the sweater. Jumping around, you were met with a bundle of lights and a beaming Jungkook lit up behind them.

“Oh- sorry,” his eyes suddenly grew very round and he turned his back before you could blink.

Tugging the jumper on with haste, you cleared your throat.

“You found lights, then?”

“Yeah, um,” he looked tentatively over his shoulder to confirm it was safe before turning to face you again, “my mum sent up Christmas decorations, remember?”

“Oh! I didn’t realise,” you said, beaming nonetheless, “how come we haven’t put them up yet?”

“Uh, just didn’t have the time, I guess,” he replied as you scooped up a battery pack and began untangling the fairy lights attached to it.

While you worked, a cute frown making its way onto your face as you fought against the knotted wires, Jungkook just watched you through the mass of glowing lights. At last, you got the end free, your victory dance shaking him from his stupor.

“Do you know any card games?” you asked, draping the string of lights around your neck as you did so.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what people do in power cuts, right?” you brushed past him.

“Um… I guess it is,” Jungkook followed you through to the living room.

Making a start by placing your string of lights along the back of the big sofa, you waited for Jungkook to join in. He was being awfully quiet. After a few moments, he did get the idea and placed the whole luminescent bunch onto the middle sofa cushion, beginning work on your vision.

“God, how many of these are there?” you laughed dryly when you pulled out the third battery pack.

“No idea,” he grimaced, “I thought you liked Christmas lights anyway?”

“I do,” you conceded, “I think they’re working better than candles would have, too.”

Eventually, the two of you had cocooned your living space in the lights. The nest of space between your sofa, rug and chairs was bathed in the warm white light. Stepping back, you couldn’t help but smile.

It was still too quiet, though.

“Are you alright?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm? Yeah,” Jungkook spoke, standing to join you observing your hard work.

“You just seem quiet,” you mumbled.

As if to prove your point, Jungkook let silence elapse between you. But, like always with you two, it was comfortable.

“Cards?” he prompted after a while.

“Oh, yes,” you remembered, tearing your eyes from the scene in front of you to the boy at your side, “do we… own a pack of cards?”

Lips parting in thought, he tilted his head to one side.

“We don’t, do we?”

At the same time, you both grinned, laughing softly. The sight of his smile only served to make yours wider.

“Blankets?” he proposed instead.

You quickly agreed. On your return to the living room, you laughed out loud, finding Jungkook holding out a wine glass full of milk for you.

“I could grate some cheese for dinner but that’s just depressing,” he gave a small smile.

Laughing loudly, you made a show of swirling the milk around your cup and sniffing at it like the tasters on tv, before sipping it.

However, Jungkook’s laughter cut off as he sunk down beside you, his fingers fidgeting around the stalk of his own glass.

“Kook, what’s going on?” you gently elbowed him, “you’re so quiet.”

“I, er,” he freed a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “how about some music?”

“Yeah, okay,” you frowned, “but, Kook, the power’s out-“

“Just wait here, okay?”

And then he was gone before you could protest, practically running from the room.

Was something seriously wrong? You knew you had been busy lately, but you always tried to make time to see your flatmate. In all honesty, he was the highlight of your day, and you had to stop yourself from fantasising about being more than friends…

But right now, you were worried. Right now, it seemed like he needed a friend, but since when had he started acting like this?

Before you could get up and follow him, though, you heard his footsteps returning. Not a moment later, he rounded the corner with a guitar in his hand. Definitely not what you had been expecting.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” you said. It surprised you; for all that you could hear his music from your room, you would have thought you’d have heard if he had been playing the guitar.

“I’ve been learning,” he didn’t quite meet your eyes, shuffling his feet.

“Okay,” you spoke slowly.

While you waited, he walked forwards and sat on one of the chairs facing you.

Just before he began, he looked up. Somehow your heart melted at his big eyes, heart already in your mouth for some reason.

And then his face was lit up in profile again, soft glow highlighting his features. As you gazed at him, unable to look away, his fingers began to pick out a soft tune. For someone so modest, he was incredibly skilled. Watching and listening in awe, your heart nearly burst when he started singing too.

His voice, though he sang softly, clearly a little nervous, floored you. And the words… he was singing about love, about a beautiful girl that made him happy, a girl he wanted to stay happy.

In your head, you had the privilege of imagining that girl was you.

All too soon, the song came to a close.

Staring at him, you held your breath to the last second before he relaxed, lowering his hand and putting his guitar to one side.

“That was beautiful, Kook,” you breathed.

But instead of responding, he stood, taking your gaze with him as he crossed to sit beside you on the sofa. A small smile curved his lips, a ghost of a laugh falling between them.

“I had a whole night planned out,” he waved his hand, “I was making carbonara, and-and I had all these decorations waiting in my room, I know you love them…”

While he took a deep breath, yours was completely stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry about the, uh, the milk,” he chuckled, “it’s not exactly romantic, but… I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

Finally having forced the words out, he looked nervously up at you with glistening eyes, no doubt thanks to your magical setup. He watched with that unwavering gaze as you tried desperately to form words in your head, simultaneously trying to process if you were in the real world at all.

“Please answer,” he whispered.

Until then you hadn’t noticed how impossibly close to each other you were. Until his words brushed against your lips.

Suddenly your brain caught up with itself, deciding this was real after all.

“O-of course,” you rushed out, tongue momentarily darting to your lips, “yes, yes!”

“Yes?” he repeated, eyes widening more, if that was possible, seeming in total disbelief.

With sudden bravery, you surged forwards, pressing your lips to his. Melting into the kiss, you felt his hands float up to your waist, hesitant at first until you kissed him harder, pulling him forwards with your hands fisted in the sweater you had recently given up.

Now he was kissing back with equal measures of hunger and tenderness, hands holding you firmly.

When you broke apart, exhilarated and reluctant to let each other go, you let your forehead fall against his.

“Yes.”

The grin he awarded you was brighter than all the lights around you. And later that night when the city burst into light again, barging past your curtains to interrupt your darkness, neither of you paid it any mind.

Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog if you did💜xx

@aianloveseven @preciouschimine

Contact me to be tagged in new work!

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firelordzukohere · 4 years ago

Text

Interior Decor

Hello! I started this blog because I wrote a Zuko x Reader fanfiction and I wanted somewhere to post it that wasn’t my main blog.

I came up with the idea for this fic randomly one day and I thought I’d write it down and share it with you all. It’s going to be 4 parts with a possible epilogue, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know what you think!!

I’ll be updating every Sunday with a new chapter! Hopefully you guys really like this and keep reading!!

I’ve also posted it to AO3 if you’d prefer to read it there

Thanks!

Zuko X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Aangst(heh), and some implications

Word Count: Almost 3k

Summary: Iroh felt it was time for the Palace to reflect the time of Peace and Love that Zuko promised five years earlier at his coronation. He takes it upon himself to hire an interior decorator to help his nephew out and work together. What he didn’t expect was for Zuko to possibly find his own peace and love in the process.

Chapter 1: Feng Shui >> Chapter 2: Tchotchke

Walking into the grand entrance of the Fire Nation Palace, (Y/N) couldn't help but stop and begin mentally jotting down the changes she would make to the décor. It was very dingy, dark, and drab, as though the Palace had been sitting in it's own dusty iceberg for a hundred years, keeping it's hatred preserved with each speck of dirt. The windows were covered in black-out fabric, the walls had pictures of past Fire Lords glaring down at those who dared to enter their sacred home of destruction, plants wilted and dead, no life left within them, and the carpet looked as though it had seen millions upon millions of feet within its lifetime.

Now, (Y/N) wasn't trying to be rude, but it was her job to notice these things. She had been hired by General Iroh to redo the interior of the Fire Nation Palace. This meant every single room from the throne room to the dining hall, the ballroom to the Fire Lord's private quarters, everything needed a refresh. She expected this kind of thing to be done back when the Fire Lord had first taken over, however, her services weren't requested until five years after his coronation.

Which is why she stood at the entrance, questioning why it took them so long to get someone in here. The poor Palace staff and the Fire Lord must be drowning in darkness and discomfort. Not to mention cowering in fear at Sozin, Azulon, and Ozai's deep glares within several portraits throughout.

She was busy having a staring contest with Ozai, which she was undoubtedly losing because he was terrifying to look at, when Iroh walked up and greeted her with a warm smile. The look immediately lit the room up, sending a comforting feeling from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes as if she had just dipped herself into the warm ocean to cool off.

"Ah! Miss (Y/N), thank you for your patience," he bowed causing her to return the sign of respect back, "I was just making sure my nephew was ready for our meeting today as well. He's just finishing up with the council, so we'll go on ahead without him and he can catch up," the older man winked before guiding her further into the Palace, "Please, tell me what you think so far, first impressions may not always be accurate, but they do tell quite a lot, especially when it comes to decoration," Iroh said as they walked.

Clearing her throat, (Y/N) tuned into her interior decorator mode. "I feel like I'm living in the Fire Palace from Sozin's time," she said, bluntly, however still with a hint of hope. "I feel like this Palace has most likely been causing the Fire Lord nothing but stress, as though it's a dark cloud looming over his head, watching his every move, almost like Ozai never left." Her voice calm and diplomatic, she had dealt with several Fire Nation officials before and no matter how often she tried to soften the blow, she was usually always dealt with backlash and anger over her honest opinion of the look.

Iroh, however, surprised her, and laughed with his whole body, resting his hands on his stomach for a moment, stopping their stride. "My dear, you are spot on!" This immediately caused (Y/N) to smile brightly, grateful that she was with a client who didn't seem to want to fight her every move. "Even when Ozai and I were boys growing up in the Palace here, we always felt as though we were living during Sozin's reign. Not that we believed that to be a bad thing at the time," he chuckled before continuing on down the hall.

The hallway led into the throne room, which was one of the biggest rooms in the Palace according to the layout that Iroh had given her during her interview with him. The only other room that was as large was the ballroom followed closely by the dining hall.

"This is where my nephew holds council with everyone in all four nations, whoever wants a seat with him. My brother, father, and grandfather stopped using it for that purpose and just became a place to dish out their royal decrees, banishing visitors that were not worthy." (Y/N) frowned listening to the history of this room. "My nephew likes this room to be where he listens and does very little talking, which I think is a wonderful sentiment to have." She nodded and began jotting down notes on her parchment.

There needed to be more light, some greenery added to liven up the place, possibly a little less fire around the throne itself, to seem more welcoming. Overall, the layout of the room was beautiful, it just needed some acceptance instead of deterrence.

Iroh led her toward the next room which appeared to be the ballroom. It was gorgeous, high ceilings with chandeliers, ready for their candles to be lit and make the glass sparkle, tall windows that went nearly from the floor to the ceiling providing a glorious view of the garden outside. Other than a couple of touch ups here and there, this room was incredible. However, it looked like it hadn't been used in centuries. Webs and dust littered the vast room, sheets covered small tables and seating areas and were yellowed with age.

"When my father took power, dancing and parties became nonexistent. He loathed people enjoying themselves, obviously because he did not. My nephew would like to throw a celebration after this redecoration, allowing all nations to come together and dance." Iroh smiled.

"Obviously it was more of a strong suggestion by the Dragon of the West, who rumor has it, excelled in dancing due to his bond with the dragons," a husky voice behind them added, causing the two to turn and find the Fire Lord standing behind them in his royal attire, with a small smirk on his face.

(Y/N) had seen beautiful interiors, gorgeous landscapes, sunsets, flowers, paintings, structures, and everything in between, however, her breath left her body the moment her eyes landed on the Fire Lord in person. He was a very handsome man, defined features and golden eyes that pierced any girl's heart.

This admiration, unfortunately, caused her to stare at him longer than normal, creating an awkward tension within the room. Beside her, Iroh cleared his throat, waking the girl from her trance on his nephew. She blushed furiously and bowed properly to the Fire Lord.

"Your Highness, my apologies, I wasn't expecting you this early," she whispered quickly attempting to cover her ogling with a valid reason, "I'm grateful that you have allowed me the opportunity to work on your home and make it something that you'll enjoy living within and celebrating for years to come." He smiled at her before turning to Iroh.

"It wasn't exactly my plan, as I said, the Dragon of the West is a very convincing man and deemed it necessary that since I was bringing a time of new, the Palace should reflect that." Iroh smirked.

"Please Fire Lord Zuko," Iroh said with a hint of snark in his voice, "I just couldn't bear to see you glare at the paintings of your father strewn everywhere and decided it was a time for change." Zuko blushed and sent a small glare at Iroh. "Plus, you're never going to woo any ladies with a Palace looking like this!" His statement caused (Y/N) to cover her mouth quickly and let out a giggle. Hearing the noise from her, Zuko's face burned darker, matching the Fire Nation red of his robes. "Anyway, my dear nephew, I must leave you at this time, you see it's nearly noon and I have a Pai Sho game to play with an old friend," he stepped back and bowed to both his nephew and (Y/N). "I'm sure you can take care of the rest of the tour and inform her on any changes you'd like. She's brilliant and really knows what she's doing so take everything she has to offer into account."

"Wait, you're not staying?" (Y/N) stopped him, nervously. Iroh smiled and shook his head.

"This isn't my home, it's his, he should be first hand in working with you. You're both smart and will definitely come up with something great together." Zuko's eyes were daggers as he looked at his Uncle. Iroh merely smirked before stepping away and back down the hallway she had originally met him in.

"I apologize for my Uncle, he's… eccentric, to say the least," the Fire Lord said with a frown. "I guess we should move on with the tour," he mumbled awkwardly before shuffling toward the room after the ballroom. The dining hall.

They traveled through the dining hall, the council chambers-as Zuko refused to call it the war room anymore, the spa rooms, a few bedrooms though they all looked the same according to the Fire Lord, several various hallways, where they finally ended, his bedroom.

(Y/N) had filled several parchments with notes and ideas for the Palace. She was already growing excited about the new plans and was ready to bring some life back into the Fire Nation's symbolic building.

"Not much needs to be done in here, to be honest, I don't use it for anything other than a place to sleep," he grumbled as he had essentially the entire tour. After Iroh had left, Zuko seemed unenthusiastic about showing her around and even less excited about her decorating anything.

"With all do respect, your Highness," she started, unable to bite her tongue this time, as she had the previous dozen times he said that he didn't need much done to the room, "that's a problem. Your bedroom should be a safe haven where you go to escape, especially with your job," her (Y/E/C) eyes narrowed in his direction, attempting to convey her seriousness about the situation. "This room is a comfort to you, not a grave to your father's previous sins." His single eyebrow cocked.

"With all do respect Miss…" it was then he realized he didn't know her name. Iroh had handled all the details, Zuko simply nodded his head and did as his uncle said.

"(Y/N)," she whispered somewhat defensively, ready for his retort.

"(Y/N)…" he repeated, "I have an escape in the Palace, though it may not be my bedroom like it seems to be for several of your clients, I can assure you, I'm not like them." He began to walk out of the bedroom, stopping only to turn back at her and nudge his head, signaling her to follow.

Confused, the decorator followed him back toward the ballroom and out into the garden. This view had caught her eye earlier when she was first in the ballroom with Iroh and now, finally getting a thorough look, she couldn't help but stare at the area in awe.

A large tree sat in the center of the zen place, a tiny pond full of quacking turtle ducks swimming happily within. Several other trees and flower bushes littered the area, with small fountains and statues around. It was serene and tranquil, calm seemed to wash over her instantly as she took in her surroundings, admiring the wonderful atmosphere that the garden provided.

Zuko led her toward the pond where he crouched down to rub the head of one of the turtle ducks with the back of his index finger. The duckling quacked and nuzzled closer to his touch instinctively. As the other turtle ducks saw this, they began swimming toward, looking for their own affection from the Fire Lord as well.

(Y/N) couldn't help but stare at the interaction before her, amazed at how the Fire Lord's demeanor changed rapidly. He seemed at peace and happy in this moment just spending time with ducklings in the garden.

"You see, miss (Y/N), while others escape to their bedrooms, I find myself coming here where I can be calm with my thoughts," he smirked up at her as he pat the last turtle duck on the head and then straightened up. With a sigh, she nodded her head, understanding what he meant now. "I do, however, agree, that my room needs more of a makeover than I initially suggested. You're welcome to do with it as you will, just make sure my belongings are taken care of properly." She looked up at him hopeful that he was okay with her being there.

Smiling, she moved toward the tree next to the pond and plopped down. It wasn't quite as ladylike as Zuko expected, like he had witnessed his mother, Mai, Azula, and Ty Lee do, but he couldn't help but smile and follow her lead, sitting down beside her. As she began handing him papers with notes, he watched as she animatedly talked about what she was going to do with each room and how it was supposed to make him feel more comfortable.

"For a Nation about light and the sun, your Palace has very little of it," she started, pointing at sketches she had apparently made as they walked of the different rooms, "I think removing the coverings on the windows and allowing more light to come in will be great. Plus, the sun makes Firebenders feel better, so why wouldn't they want more of it?" Zuko nodded, realizing that it made a lot of sense. "Then your people will be able to see you better instead of the dark shadow that Ozai assumingly was previous." Her casual use of his father's name seemed to shock him, but he didn't say anything and continued to listen. "If they see your face, they'll feel they can trust you more, you're not a bad man to look at either and that could possibly help you in the department General Iroh was requesting which was a new lady friend." She rushed through quickly.

Zuko held up his hand to stop her, "Contrary to what my uncle says, I don't need a woman to make me happy." He said, "I'm doing just fine all on my own." This caused her to stare at him for a few moments in deep thought and Zuko couldn't help but wonder what was going through her head. She seemed to be lost in herself for a moment before her vision returned and she realized she had been staring intently at the Fire Lord.

With a small shake of her head, she focused normally back on him, "I'm sorry, um… yes you're right, you don't need a woman, I was just trying to help." She mumbled before looking down at her papers awkwardly. Zuko handed her back the ones that he had been given and smiled.

"These look great (Y/N), why don't we start tomorrow on it? I will approve anything you want to do," he said trying to reassure the girl who had what felt like an emotional moment from his words.

"No, let me do this right, especially with the Palace. I will return with better sketches tomorrow and then if everything is approved I can bring in a team to start clearing out rooms. We'll do them one by one so you're not without the entire Palace for a couple of weeks," she said, watching as he stood up and held out his hand for her to take. Gently she pressed her palm to his and goosebumps ran up her arm at the shockingly warm contact. He smiled as he helped her to her feet, waiting several moments before leading her hand back to her side and slipping it from his grasp. "Thank you for this opportunity your Highness, you have no idea how excited I am to be able to help you feel like this is your home," she repeated her earlier sentiment with a long bow.

"Zuko," he said bluntly, causing her to look up at him from her bow. Her eyebrow cocked slightly and he couldn't help but smirk at the emotion written across her face. "Call me Zuko, none of this your Highness formality."

With reddened cheeks she smiled and nodded her head. He led her back into the ballroom and toward the entrance to the Palace. "Tomorrow then?" she asked as they reached the grand doorway.

"Tomorrow," he said, looking at her intently. "I'm interested to see what you bring me (Y/N)," he bowed to her.

She returned the bow with one final word for farewell, "Zuko." Her lips formed a smirk that Zuko couldn't stop his eyes from studying for as long as he could before she turned and made her way down the steps, internally wondering why this job made her feel all fuzzy inside.

I hope you guys liked it! Please let me know! Thanks!

Master List

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albertasunrise · 4 years ago

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Chance - Chapter 7

Summary: Working as an ER doctor, you don’t get much of a chance to meet new men and you’d never imagined that you’d meet your soulmate at work.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut 18+

Pairings: Frankie Morales/ Reader

Frankie had never been so nervous in his life. The boys had decided to throw a barbecue to celebrate you and him being together a year and someone was coming that you had yet to meet. It was all part of an elaborate plan that Frankie had started working on a month or so back but now that it was happening he was terrified. Things had been so good lately. You had moved in with him and even received a promotion at work. Things were great and the two of you were unbelievably happy so he really didn't want that to end. The party was starting to heat up as you walked through the front door, Sophie and her girlfriend in tow and as you make your way outside you're greeted with your usual bear hug from Benny before Sophia hobbles into your arms.

‘Hello baby girl, I missed you today.’ You say softly, grinning as she gives you a sloppy kiss on the lips.

‘So this is the famous Doc.’ Comes a voice you’ve never heard and you turn to look at its owner.

There, in the flesh, was a man you’d only ever seen pictures of and heard stories about. He was darker than Frankie, sporting salt and pepper hair that suited him well and a smile that was genuine and warm.

‘And that must make you Pope.’ You reply, allowing him to pull you into a hug ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ You finish as you wink at the boys behind him ‘Guys you know Sophie, this is her girlfriend Diana. Diana this is Benny, Will, Frankie, Pope and lastly, this little princess is Sophia.’ You finish as you bounce her in your arms.

‘It’s lovely to meet you all.’ She says shyly, giving them all a wave.

‘Right well food its almost ready. Beer and Wine's in the cooler. Make yourselves at home.’ States Will as he claps his hands and heads back to the grill.

‘How was your day?’ Asks Frankie sweetly as he gives you a kiss, giggling at his daughters protest at him not giving her one too.

‘Yeah wasn’t too bad today.’ You answer ‘Better now I’m here.’

It didn’t take long for everyone to start laughing and joking as conversation flowed. Even Diana relaxed and got involved, getting on particularly well with Benny. As everyone enjoyed themselves it allowed your mind to wander. Ben noticed that you were lost in your thoughts, and he knew what those thoughts were about. You and he had become practically inseparable over the last year, gossiping about anything from work to the girls he picks up at his fights. You’d come to him with something yesterday that you didn’t know what to do about, something that after a few tears and a mild anxiety attack he had talked some sense into you. Everything would be okay. Food was eaten and then everyone settled around the fire pit in the garden, the sun painting the sky in an array of colours as it started to fall.

‘So did you crazy kids get each other presents?’ Asks Benny, wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

‘We said we wouldn’t.’ You reply with a shrug ‘Got you a card though.’ You finish as you look at Frankie.

‘I got you a card too.’ He replies, handing a large envelope to you.

You hand him his and go about opening yours, noting out the corner of your eye that he’s watching you.

‘You going to open yours?’

‘I will in a sec.’ He says excitedly ‘I want to see your face.’

You roll your eyes at him before pulling out the card, giggling at the image on the front. It was a rough sketch of Leiah and Han Solo holding hands, she’s telling him that she loves him and he is saying that famous like ‘I know.’ You open it and a folded sheet of paper falls out which you grab and hold to one side as you read what he wrote, smiling at the soppy words that he tried to hard to make neat. Placing the card down you open the paper and your face scrunches in confusion when you see that it’s a form. You glance at him and he nods at you so you look down at the form again, eyes widening when you realise what it is.

‘You want me to adopt Sophia?’ You ask, eyes locking on his.

‘You’ve been an amazing mum to her the last year, even id that's not what you were trying to be.’ He starts, smiling sweetly at you ‘She calls you Mumma so why not make that official.’

‘Fran-’ You choke as you speak, a shaking hand covering your mouth as you cry tears of complete joy.

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s completely up to you.’ He states, taking your hand in his ‘No pressure baby.’

‘Of course, I will.’ You manage to say, letting out a happy sob as you smile at him ‘You going to open yours now?’

‘Impatient.’ He says with a wink, poking out his tongue as he opens his envelope.

He chuckles at the image, you being on the same wavelength as him when you’d bought his card.

‘Without me, you’d be Solo... Really?’ He chuckles, rolling his eyes at the cheese as you shrug your shoulders.

‘Open it.’

When he does his eyes grow even wider than yours had. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for him to speak. To say something. You note that everyone else is looking at him with intense curiosity. Everyone but Ben.

‘What is it?’ Asks Pope, chuckling at his friend's expression.

Finally, Frankie looks up at you, his expression hard to read in the low light of the evening.

‘Really?’ He asks, his tone hopeful.

‘Yeah.’

‘Really what??’ Exclaims Will, his tone a little impatient.

‘I’m pregnant.’ You announce, Frankie, turning the card in his hand to reveal the sonogram stuck inside.

He’s on his feet in the blink of an eye, scooping you into his arms and kissing you deeply as he now sobs with joy. Everyone around the fire cheering as the two of you share a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes as you soak one another in.

‘You happy?’ You ask as he lowers back to your feet.

‘Ecstatic.’ He replies, kissing you again ‘Well I guess now is a really good time to do this then.’

‘Do what?’ You ask as you give him a bemused look.

You don’t see his hand reach into his pocket, all you see is him lowering himself down so that he is on one knee and the reality of what’s happening hits you.

‘You are the best thing to happen to me since Fia was born.’ He starts, holding your hand as he struggles to keep his voice from wobbling ‘We have been through hell together. You have had to endure so much, taking care of me and a baby that wasn’t yours when I came out of hospital. You have been so selfless. I knew pretty much from the first conversation we had that you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. So will you make me the luckiest man on the planet and marry me?’ He finishes as he reveals a beautiful ring that had been clutched in his hand the whole time.

You can’t speak, you can only nod as he stands up to put the ring on your finger and everyone cheers. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a bruising kiss, the two of you smiling against each other's lips as everyone starts to chant before you tell them to keep it down in case they wake-up Sophia. The party continues well into the early hours of the morning, everyone more or less crashing where they fall and you groan, knowing you’re going to have your hands full the next morning. After you and Frankie are confident that no one's going to choke on their own vomit you check on the baby and then head to bed, both laying on your sides so you can face each other and gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes.

‘Well, that was an eventful anniversary.’ You joke as you give Frankie a warm smile.

‘That it was.’ He chuckles in reply.

‘You sure you’re okay about the baby?’ You ask, your tone a little nervous ‘I mean we’ve only been together a year and-’

‘I am more than sure about us having a baby together.’ He interrupts, cupping your cheek with his large hand ‘How far along are you?’

‘A little over 6 weeks.’ You reply ‘I only found out the day before yesterday. I had a turn at work so they ran some tests and well, turns out you put a bun in my oven. They managed to book me in for a scan yesterday and after talking to Benny about it I thought the sonogram would be a nice way to tell you.’

‘Wait Benny already knew?’ He questions and you nod in reply ‘Should I be worried about how close you two are.’ He jokes, feigning a suspicious look.

‘Absolutely not.’ You reply as you pull him into a kiss, giggling as his hand travels up your oversized sleep shirt to cup your breast.

‘Still can’t believe you told him before me.’ He pouts and you roll your eyes at him.

‘I was kinda having a crisis when I told him.’ You chuckle ‘Was in a complete panic but he somehow knew you’d be excited.’

‘Well...’ He trails off, looking guiltily at you as he darts his tongue out to wet his lower lip ‘I’d kinda told him my plan to propose... and to ask you to adopt Sophia.’ He confessed and you raise your eyebrows as he continues his story ‘I also confessed that I wanted to try and have a baby with you pretty soon after the wedding. If you agreed and wanted to of course. I want it all with your Hermosa. Everything.’

‘Wow...’ You reply, letting out a huff in surprise ‘Well if you don’t fuck me after that speech I’m going to implode.’

He didn’t hesitate to comply, quickly settling between your legs as he kisses you hard and you moan in his mouth as his erection grinds against your bare sex. You rid him of his boxers as he drags two fingers through your folds, grinning at how ready you are for him. There was no need for foreplay, that could come later. Right now you needed him and he needed you and you moan in unison as he pushes inside of you. He starts with a pretty dizzying pace, each thrust perfectly angled and it doesn’t take you long to peak, back arching as your orgasm washes over you. Your moans are like music to his ears, spurring him on as he rests his forehead against yours so he can look deep into your eyes. You gaze back at him, mouth open in a silent scream as he edges you close again and you grab onto his strong shoulders to ground yourself as it hits you, this one dragging him along with you. You remain that way for a while, panting against each other’s lips as you try to calm yourselves, hearts racing beneath the surface of your skin as your minds start to clear.

‘One perk to being pregnant.’ You start, grinning at him as he tilts his head to one side ‘Much more sensitive.’ You finish with a wink, earning a growl from Frankie as he buries his head in the crook of your next.

‘Sophie and Diana needed to head out early.’ States Benny as he nurses his coffee ‘Asked me to say goodbye from them.’

‘How’s everyone feeling this morning?’ You ask, chuckling at the groans you receive in reply ‘Bacon sandwiches?’

‘Yes.’ Everyone says together.

Frankie emerges a few minutes later freshly showered, his eyes scanning his hungover friends and chuckling to himself as he spins you around and kisses you sweetly.

‘Morning Fiancé.’ He beams, kissing you again.

‘Good morning Papi.’ You reply, grinning at him as you take his hand and place it on your belly.

‘Oh will you two tone the cute shit down.’ Grumbles Benny as he massages his temples ‘Feeling sick as it is.’ He finishes, giving Frankie the finger when the man flips him off.

Chapter 8

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #garrett hedlund fanfiction #ben miller #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam #will miller #santiago 'pope' garcia #oscar isaac

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aliendes · 4 years ago

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Natural Borns - Chapter Four

Banner made by @thebannershop

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: mentions of sadness, indecent thoughts? maybe, if you squint. it gets a little steamy, I suppose, but mostly just fluffy sadness, if that’s a thing. This series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8k~ (whoops so sorry. if you like longer chapters like this, let me know!)

A/N: *deep breath* ok here is chapter 4. things are starting to heat up, but i cut this chapter in two because it was like over 12k long.... i go back to work tomorrow, so updates may start slowing down, but i’m hoping to post updates every Sunday night. i was feeling a little bit bogged down last week, not seeing as much influx with chapter three than i have with the other chapters. if you enjoy reading, please reblog so others can see it, too. thank you, as always. xx - Des

Updated: 8/9/2020

But the second he took one look at you, standing outside, wet and bloody, saw the look in your big beautiful eyes as he so heartlessly demanded things from you, he knew he stood no chance.

Yoongi sat in his makeshift office on an old torn recliner they found in the warehouse. Surprisingly, the warehouse had been decently furnished when they found it. Granted, it was all old, worn furniture, but furniture nonetheless. The building was incredibly old, but it was also very large and had a lot of empty rooms on two levels. The entire place was made out of concrete, meaning it hasn’t seen much weathering over the years. It was a place they could call home for now.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at his beloved laptop in front of him. He wasn’t trying to think about you, no, in fact, he wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of you. Try all he might, his thoughts kept wandering back to the scared, small girl he saw earlier tonight. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head loll back.

The blonde man was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps outside his door. He picked his head up and spun around in his seat right as Hoseok came through the doorway.

“Hey,” Hoseok said, leaning against the doorframe, “I heard they found her.” His tone was indifferent, not happy, nor sad. Hoseok didn’t really have an opinion on you yet, voicing to Namjoon he didn’t really mind either way if they found you or not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Yoongi asked the red head knowing he hadn’t, as his demeanor would’ve changed the moment he did.

Hoseok shook his head, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions. “Good,” was all Yoongi said in response.

Hoseok gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. A bright grin started to take over his face as he took in the disgruntled look on Yoongi’s. “Are you letting her get under your skin that quickly, Yoongs?” He asked the older man in a teasing voice. “Is that why you’re hiding away while they fix her up?”

Yoongi’s blonde head snapped up at Hoseok’s words. “What do you mean ‘fix her up’?”

Hoseok’s smile started to slowly fade from his face, leaving a knowing smirk in its place. “She was pretty banged up from what Jungkook said. Poor boy was distraught when he came running into my room earlier.” Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face closely as his lips pursed into a thin line and he tried to act as if he didn’t care about you. Hoseok could see right through him.

Yoongi tried to keep his breathing steady and stared Hoseok right in the eye. “Who cares,” he shrugged as he turned back around in his chair and started typing away at his laptop.

“Who cares?” Hoseok asked rhetorically, “I think you do.” The red head walked over to Yoongi’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, pulling it down a bit so he could look into Yoongi’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at the hacker, waiting for some kind of response.

“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed, “I don’t even know her.” Yoongi looked away from Hoseok as he spoke, knowing his closest friends would be able to see his lie. He didn’t want it to be a lie, what he was saying he wanted wholeheartedly to be true, but he knew it wasn’t. Why did he care about you? He really didn’t know you. But as Hoseok chuckled and walked away from the chair with a breathy ‘yeah right’, Yoongi’s thoughts just drifted to you.

“Please stay still,” Jin pleaded with you for the third time. You were currently laying on what you assumed was his bed while he took a look at all your wounds. He was looking at your bruised, and possibly fractured, according to him, ribs. It was painful and you weren’t sure how he expected you to stay completely still.

You had been laying here for the last twenty minutes, staring up at the ceiling, going over your conversation with Namjoon prior to letting Jin take a look at your wounds. You had learned that the five of them had been staying here for the last three weeks. They stumbled upon the place when exploring the surrounding forest. It was devoid of life, but a lot of furniture and supplies had been left from workers or from kids who threw parties here in the past. They made it into a base of sorts, where they could live and work. Work, you learned, was mostly Yoongi trying to hack into Big Hit’s, and other companies, systems, while Namjoon dealt with contacting people and said companies to get more information. Apparently, they had found out about you through Jimin, who had overheard some of the lab techs talking about a female natural born living on the outskirts of Seoul. You still weren’t certain what exactly made you all ‘special’, but Namjoon had said it had something to do with the markers in your DNA that made you desirable to these designer baby companies.

Namjoon had also told you that they were planning on going to Big Hit soon, in hopes of getting Jimin and Taehyung out. As they helped you limp to Jin’s room, he told you that he and Jungkook were going to help Yoongi and Hoseok with the planning tonight, and told you to get some rest.

When you first got to Jin’s room, you were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of it. For an old warehouse, they really tried to make it feel homey. Seokjin’s room was small and looked like it used to be some kind of office or file room. There was a small double mattress in the corner, which you were currently laying on, a small desk on the opposite side of the room, a small wooden end table, and a couple of backpacks and duffle bags laying about. While everything in the room looked old and worn down, it still smelled nice. It smelled like Jin, like pine and soap. Speaking of soap…

“Hey - how do you guys have lights and running water here?” You were curious, previous experiences made you think this place was totally abandoned.

Jin looked up from poking at your ribs, “Oh - Yoongi. He was able to get the electric and water companies to turn stuff on under a fake name,” he trailed off after noticing the apprehensive look on your face, “I know it’s not the most ethical way to go about things, but we don’t really have much of a choice right now.” The solemn look on his face told you that he regretted their actions, but truly had no other choice.

You nodded at his answer and jumped a bit when he went back to putting cream on your ribcage. “Please - stay still YN.”

“Sorry, sorry. It just hurts,” you groaned out and he finished his work. Jin let out a short sigh before pulling your shirt back down your torso. He picked up one of your hands and started to unravel the bandages to clean and rebandage it.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” he gave you a quick smile and gently ran the back of his knuckles along your bicep. You tried to ignore the way his action made you feel, he was just trying to comfort you, right? He was a caring person, and he probably just felt bad seeing you in pain. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You went back to staring at the ceiling, biting the inside of your cheek and Jin disinfected your cuts and scrapes. The feeling of his hands on you leaving you confused.

Once Seokjin had finished tending to your wounds, he gave you an old t-shirt and some sweatpants to change into before giving you a little privacy. After you had changed, you hobbled back over to the mattress and sat down. You stared around his room for a moment, finally letting the events of the day sink in.

You inhaled a deep breath as you thought back to everything that had happened. In just a few short hours, you had met these strange men who took you out to a forest and made you question your entire existence, witnessed your father make some kind of deal or exchange with a man who was likely trying to take you away, and ran away from your life, your family, and your friends. You didn’t even know who you could trust anymore, aside from probably Mina and Woo, but who knew when, or if, you would ever see them again. The thought alone made tears prick at the back of your eyes. You looked up to the ceiling to try and stop the hot tears from falling, to no avail. What were you getting yourself into?

As you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you heard a knock at the heavy door of Jin’s room. Quickly, you wiped the back of your hand at your face with a sniffle, before telling whoever was knocking to come in.

To your surprise, it was Jungkook who walked through the door, not Jin or Namjoon like you had expected. You blinked owlishly up at him for a moment as he shut the door and ventured into the room. He took a few steps in your direction, hands behind his back, and looked even more shy than you had seen him earlier.

“H-hey, noona?” He timidly asked, eyes locked on the floor.

Your eyes softened at his hesitancy. You made a sound of affirmation, urging him to continue speaking. Slowly he brought his hands from behind him back and extended them in your direction. He was holding a water bottle and a container of what looked like pain relievers. “Jin-hyung wanted me to tell you to take two of these,” he started, walking towards you with his hands outstretched like he was feeding a tiger, “and to drink the whole bottle.”

You gave Jungkook a small smile as you took his offering. He seemed so sweet in that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself, “Jungkook?” Your voice made the poor boy jump a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw your smile. His big doe eyes somehow got slightly bigger as he nodded his head at you. “How old are you?” You asked him, head cocked to the side.

“Twenty two,” he said easily. He’s only a year younger than you, it was odd to you he was so timid, almost childlike at times. You hummed in approval. You truly did want to get to know these men, and Jungkook seemed like such a sweet guy. He was shy, but you could tell he had a kind soul. You wondered what had happened to him to make him so quiet. You hoped you would find out with time. You had a sort of affinity toward him. Maybe it was because he had literally carried you through a forest without so much as a complaint. You weren’t entirely sure.

The boy hesitated for a moment before turning around to walk out of the room. Just as he was about to reach the doorknob, he stopped and turned around to face you. “Noona?” His voice was so small, you almost asked him to repeat himself. Instead, you made a noncommittal noise, urging him to continue. “How old are you?” You wanted to coo at how cute Jungkook looked right now. Cheeks rosy, head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide with mirth, almost like he was thankful for a reason to speak to you.

You gave the boy a bright smile before answering, “Twenty three.”

Jungkook stared at you for just a second longer, before nodding once and leaving the room.

“Who the fuck is Pearl?”

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up from the game he was playing on his phone.

“Are you even listening to me Hobi?” Yoongi was aggravated, to say the least. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook brought you to their base last night and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. Namjoon brought him your phone, asking him to remove data from it so it couldn’t be tracked. He did so immediately, but the damn thing was burning a whole in the back of his head while he tried to sleep on the old, black leather couch in his room. Eventually, he got up from tossing and turning, and decided - against his better judgement - to look through the device. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he didn’t particularly care for you. Besides, he was curious, who could blame him?

The red head, currently sitting upside down on Yoongi’s couch, just huffed in response. Yoongi just rolled his eyes and spun around in the old, squeaky rolling chair. He had your phone open on his desk. It was early in the morning now, he figured you and the rest of the boys, aside from Hoseok, were probably still asleep. Hoseok tended to be an extremely early riser, yet still went to bed late at night. Yoongi never understood how he had so much energy with so little sleep.

Yoongi had already looked through your apps and photos. You didn’t have any social media that he could tell. Your apps were incredibly boring, just a few games and a notepad app that he found some of your notes on. Mostly things like grocery lists and dreams that you had. Nothing too interesting. Your photos weren’t very exciting either, mostly pictures of trees and fruit. You had some photos of your mom and dad and a couple of animals he assumed were yours. You seemed to live a pretty boring life, based on what was on your phone. The cynical side of him wanted to tell himself this meant you were a boring person, but he knew that was an unfair assumption.

The last thing Yoongi decided to snoop through, were your text messages. While he hadn’t found much there, aside from conversations with your mom, dad, and a group chat with someone named “Mina” and “Woo”, he did notice how everyone seemed to refer to you as ‘Pearl’. Aside from when your mother called you by your name yesterday, you were almost always referred to as Pearl. This piqued Yoongi’s interest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe this was evidence as to why the others shouldn’t trust you? It’s a simple nickname, but Yoongi was suspicious of you from the beginning. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was looking for reasons to hate you, to make the others hate you.

Yoongi nearly jumped straight out of his skin when the door to his room was swung open with such ferocity it slammed into the wall. Hoseok jumped straight up from the couch and Yoongi nearly fell out of his chair at the noise. “Jesus kid!” Yoongi yelled as he righted himself.

Jungkook had the graciousness to look ashamed as he entered the elder’s room. “Sorry hyung, I- I didn’t mean to,” he murmured without meeting the eyes of his older friends.

Hoseok sighed and relaxed a bit before pushing a hand through his bright locks and announcing he was going to ‘find something better to do’. Jungkook nodded at him as he left and took Hoseok’s previous spot on the couch. Yoongi surveyed Jungkook as he sat down. He looked tired, like really tired. He could see the small bags forming under the youngest’s eyes, a purple tint to his nearly perfect skin. Yoongi also noticed how skinny the kid was looking these days. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You doing ok, kid?”

Jungkook lowered his head into his hands and rested them on his knees, shaking his head back and forth slightly, “No hyung. I- I miss them,” Yoongi could hear the tears that were threatening to fall. He always did have a soft spot for Jungkook. He rose from his seat and sat down gingerly next to Kook on the couch, making the leather creaked beneath him, and slung his arm around the dark haired boy.

“I know, I miss them too. We all do,” he bagan, running a soothing hand up and down Jungkook’s upper arm, “we will get them back, Jungkook. I promise.” Jungkook lifted his head and looked at his hyung, eyes glazed over. He believed him, he really did, he just missed his best friends.

Jungkook nodded his head as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Yoongi thumbed at the younger’s lip sweetly, prompting him to release it. He knew Jungkook’s stress, he understood it. He missed the twins too, and he was working his hardest to get them back. Soon. He could feel it.

Last night had gone about as well as you thought it would. After Jungkook left you alone, Jin never returned to his room. You took the painkillers they offered you, but you thought for sure someone would be back to check on you, and you didn’t feel comfortable enough to wander around the place. You also felt a little bad for taking Jin’s bed when he had been so gracious to you. So after a while of waiting - and mentally hoping - for someone to walk in, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, to no avail. You tossed and turned in Jin’s small bed for what felt like hours, but you didn’t really know how long it had been. There was no clock in the room, you didn’t have your phone, and there were no windows. You guessed you finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning and had a very short, fitful rest before Jin was coming in to wake you.

“YN?” You heard Seokjin’s soft voice from the doorway. You blearily blinked away sleep as you tried to fully regain consciousness. As you rolled over in bed to face the door, you saw Jin standing there with a plate of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but your stomach was beginning to rumble at the sight of food. You remembered the last time you ate anything was yesterday morning at breakfast.

Jin walked a little further into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He wanted to laugh at how entranced you were by the food in his hands, and at the erratic way your hair was sticking up. “Hungry?” He asked, arm outstretched towards you with the plate. You let out a small yawn and reached your arms above your head with a small pout. The large t-shirt you were wearing - Jin’s t-shirt - rode up slightly as you stretched and Jin thought you had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. As you finished your much needed stretch, you nodded your head with one eye open, taking the plate.

“Thank you, I’m so hungry,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. Jin’s plump lips upturned into a bright smile as you started to eat a piece of toast from the plate. “You’re able to cook here?”

“There’s a small kitchen,” Jin nodded as he spoke, “it looks like it was an old staff lounge or something? We aren’t entirely sure what this building used to be, but it seemed like some people used to live here. There were beds, couches, even an old television when we got here.”

Now, feeling a little more awake, you nodded along with Jin, “Where do you get the food?”

Seokjin didn’t even miss a beat before answering, happy you were coming out of your shell a bit, “I go to the market at least once a week,” he smiled, “I take Jungkook with me sometimes…” he started to trail off a bit, looking away from your eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “That’s actually how we found you.”

You stopped chewing, mid-bite of scrambled egg, “Found me?” You mumbled, mouth full.

Jin nodded, looking bashful, “Jimin told us he overheard people at the lab talking about a girl, a natural born living in this town. We honestly didn’t think we would find you here,” Seokijn rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, still avoiding your gaze, “We came out here and found this warehouse, it ended up being perfect for us to stay in,” as he continued his eyes finally met yours, he mentally noted how cute you looked, cheeks puffed out with food staring at him, “we needed food, so me and Jungkook went to the market. When I saw you, I knew.”

Your stomach was doing flips at Seokjin’s admission, and you weren’t entirely sure why. They were harmless words, maybe even a little reassuring. They weren’t stalking you, they happened to stumble upon you. So you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so shy. His words almost sounded like a love confession you would hear in a blockbuster movie about soulmates. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly as you finally swallowed the eggs. “What do you mean, you knew? I don’t remember seeing you, or talking to you,” you prodded for some more information.

For a moment, Jin just stared into your eyes, and you thought he wasn’t going to answer you. Then, his plush lips parted as he quietly murmured, “Well, YN, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you know that,” he never broke eye contact as he uttered his next words, “and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I can say you have a beautiful soul, too.” You were reeling. Were you the female lead of this made for TV movie your head conjured up?

You stared back at Seokjin with wide, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted in shock. No one has ever said anything like that to you, aside from Mina telling you how beautiful you were and how jealous she was of your skin. Jin was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel incredible. You were high on his attention, you loved the way your stomach was erupting with butterflies.

You were still seated on his bed, legs crossed and hands sitting in your lap, food forgotten next to you. Seokjin was still staring intently into your eyes, with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand and went to lightly brush his knuckles against your cheek bone. The action made you flush, eyes closing at the soft feeling of his hand. Just as you were leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his lips, the door to his room opened, causing both of you to jump backwards, eyes shooting towards the person intruding on such an intimate moment.

“Jin,” Namjoon looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks pink realizing what he walked into, “we need you in Yoongi’s room.” He bowed his head once at you both before turning on his heels and walking away.

Seokjin cleared his throat and you found it endearing how his neck and ears were turning a beet red. “S-sorry,” he sputtered out, “I - I’ll be back in a little bit?” He sounded unsure as he scrubbed a hand down his face. You gave him a small smile and nodded, a little sad at the loss of companionship you were just starting to get used to. You couldn’t quite place the emotion you were feeling, but you knew it was nothing like the platonic friendship you felt for Woo or Mina. Jin stood up from his bed, making his way towards, before giving you some parting words, “I’ll have Jungkook come show you where the showers are.”

After your encounter with Jin this morning, you were reeling from the onslaught of emotions you were feeling. You weren’t given much time to think too much about it though, because once you finished your breakfast, Jungkook came to give you a short, and rather quiet, tour of the building.

Like Seokjim promised, Jungkook showed you where the one bathroom was located, which looked more like a gym locker room than a bathroom. There were shower stalls, benches, and a couple of toilets and sinks along with a wall of lockers. It looked to be a changing room for employees of the mill. Jungkook had brought with him your black linen pants, washed by Jin according to him, and another large t-shirt. He didn’t want to admit it was his this time, and blushed fiercely as he handed them over to you, along with a clean towel.

Jungkook kindly showed you how to work the showers, helping you turn one on because of your hands. He also sweetly helped unwrap your hands and feet so you could properly shower and clean the cuts and scrapes. After he was done, he turned away, telling you he would wait on the benches for you to finish. As he was retreating, you reached out your hand to grab his forearm, “Wait - I- I can’t really lift my arms up,” you mumbled, warily looking up into his wide deer-in-headlights eyes, “can- can you help me?” You’ve never been shy about your body or nudity, but something about Jungkook seeing you nearly naked, made you feel like a shy teenager again.

You thought Jungkook was about to spontaneously combust the way he was staring at you. His shoulders were squared and nearly meeting his ears, lips pursed into a tight line, and eyes the size of dinner plates. You almost laughed at his expression, but then remembered how awkward this situation was for the both of you.

“I- I - ye- yes,” Jungkook was a stuttering mess, but wanted to offer you his help regardless. He felt like he was on fire with the way his cheeks and neck were heating. Slowly, you retracted your hand from his forearm when you felt like he wasn’t about to bolt out of the room. Jungkook carefully reached for the hem and your shirt and you turned around so your back was facing him to make this all less embarrassing. The boy audibly gulped as he slowly pulled your shirt upwards removing it from your head first, pushing it towards your front. He stepped closer to you so there was barely an inch of space between your now bare back and his front. Reaching his arms around you, he gripped the shirt and slid it down your arms, removing it from you completely. His fingers ever so slightly brushed the skin on your arms and made a shiver run up your spine. Jungkook didn’t miss the way you let out a strangled breath, almost inaudible.

He needed to cool off, quickly.

You quietly thanked him, quickly covering your breasts with your arms, as he turned away still holding Jin’s shirt and made his way out of the bathroom without another word.

After your much needed shower you struggled to dress yourself, but you would rather cut off your own arm than go through the embarrassment of finding Jungkook to help you again. Once you were finally decent, you found Jungkook sitting on the benches outside of the shower room, just like he said he would be. He has visibly calmed down, now wearing a calm expression. When he noticed you walk into the room, he gave you a small smile. “Feel better?”

You nodded enthusiastically, happy to feel clean again.

Next, Jungkook showed you the small kitchen that Jin spoke of earlier. It was more like a kitchenette, almost like an employee break room. It had a tiny refrigerator, cabinets that were filled with dry goods, a sink, and one electric burner. The building was so old, you were shocked to see the kitchen in such great condition. At the shocked look on your face, Jungkook told you that Jin really loved to cook and worked really hard to clean it up and keep it that way. Your face flushed at the reminder of the older man who was making your heart feel things just this morning. The thought of him caring so much about his kitchen, moving about in here cooking the delicious food you ate for breakfast, made your stomach twist in a pleasant way.

The last place Jungkook showed you was a mostly empty room on the second floor of the building. He told you that they didn’t use the second story much, considering the state of disrepair of the place, they didn’t want to risk getting hurt up here. But this room, Jungkook told you, was his favorite place to hang out. It was a rectangular concrete room that had a large expanse of windows on the far wall. Some of the windows were broken, allowing the breeze from outside to enter. In front of the windows sat a small tan sofa that looked like it had seen better days. Jungkook led you over to the windows, and you quickly realized why he liked this room so much.

You could see the entire quarry from up here. It was beautiful. At the bottom of the quarry was water that took on an incredible aquamarine color, turning almost green in the sunlight. The water was completely still, no disruptions on the surface, making it look serene. Along the bank of water, there were lush, green bushes and trees swaying slightly in the wind. On the other side of the quarry, you could see a small patch of yellow and purple flowering plants. Along the steep sides of the cliffs, you could see the smooth surface of exposed marble. Over the years, the marble has become weathered and looked smooth to the touch. The late morning sun, high in the sky, was reflecting off of the stone in a way that made it sparkle. It was an incredible sight, and you were surprised you’d never seen it like this before, having been out here in the past.

As you stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, Jungkook was taking in you. You had a look of mirth in your eyes, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing you up here. He took in your side profile, admiring your sharp features that looked as if they were carved from the very marble you were currently staring at. He loved the way your soft lips were forming a small pout, eyes focused on the sight in front of you. He didn’t realize he was grinning at you, until you turned around with a look of shock on your face.

A grin spread across your face as you saw Jungkook’s smile for the first time. It reminded you of a bunny, large front teeth on display for you to admire. You stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before you both started giggling. “Thank you for showing me this, Jungkook,” you crooned once the laughter had subsided. He just smiled at you in return before looking back out towards the quarry. You stayed in a comfortable silence after that, before Jungkook deemed it time to head back downstairs.

Downstairs, Jungkook led you to a room that was right in the middle of the long hallway that contained all the other rooms. “This is Yoongi-hyung’s room,” he cautioned, hand on the door, “don’t worry, Joon-hyung told him to be nice,” he rushed out, seeing the fearful look on your pretty features.

You were still uncertain, but nodded at Jungkook anyways, prompting him to open the door. Jungkook waited patiently for you to enter the room on your own with no pressure from him. You peeked around the corner to find the occupants of the room all staring right at you. You purse your lips into a tight line and avert your gaze to your newfound safe harbor, Seokjin, who was sitting on a black leather couch. His eyes softened at your uncomfortable look before scooting over to make room for you on the couch, patting the seat next to him, inviting you over. You hesitantly walked over and plopped down on the soft cushion.

Jin rubbed a large hand on your shoulder briefly to calm you down before placing both hands in his lap. As you felt yourself relax a bit, you took in your surroundings. Jungkook was still standing near the door, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked oddly stoic, shedding the shy persona he usually wore. The room was fairly large, or at least, larger than the rest of the rooms you’ve been in. Against the right wall was the black leather couch you and Jin were currently sat on, and to your right against the far wall were two arm chairs, one of which was occupied by Namjoon. Sat in a desk chair in front of what looked like an old corporate desk, was Yoongi, with multiple laptops and devices sprawled out in front of him. Leaning against the wall behind Yoongi was another man, one you didn’t recognize, but you assumed was Hoseok. He was staring intently at you. His expression was unreadable, not cold, but not welcoming either. He looked intense with bright red hair, a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut diamonds, dressed in all black. He was a little intimidating and not at all like the golden retriever type boy Namjoon had described to you last night.

As you took in the men around the room, you hadn’t noticed Yoongi and Namjoon discussing a possible plan to break the twins out of Big Hit. “Jimin said there might be a window of time where no one is around,” Yoongi scoffed, “but you remember what happened last time he said that.”

Namjoon nodded his head. Now you were listening intently to their conversation, as were the other men in the room. “We need to trust Jimin, Yoongs. He’s the one inside there, he sees what’s going on, we don’t,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands over his knees, apparently a self-soothing mechanism, “if you think you can get in and knock out the cameras, we might as well give it a shot. We will make sure we’re better prepared this time.” Namjoon seemed defeated. You weren’t sure what happened ‘last time’, but it didn’t sound good.

“It doesn’t matter how prepared we are, he was wrong about the window last time. By two hours. If he’s wrong again we could get caught, or killed,” Yoongi snapped, anger apparent in his eyes, “I’m not willing to risk you guys again.”

“What about her?” This time, it was the redhead who spoke. You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you throughout the entire conversation, assessing you.

“No!” Both Jin and Jungkook barked at the same time, making you jump in your seat. Jin set a soothing hand on your shoulder as you looked at him, and then at Hoseok with wide eyes. Jin shook his head aggressively before looking at Yoongi and Hoseok, “No way. She’s never been there, she would have no idea what to do. You’re not willing to risk one of us, but willing to risk her?” He snarled, you haven’t seen him angry before, and you were positive you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.

Over by the door, Jungkook had uncrossed his arms and was walking towards Yoongi’s desk. “You can’t send her in there, hyung,” he started, placing both hands palm down on the desk, “please.”

Yoongi looked up at the maknae with soft eyes before pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Behind him, Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion,” he sighed out passively, “we’ve all lived there at some point or another, they would recognize us immediately, just like last time.”

“They know her too. Hyunwoo has been scouting her for months, according to Jimin. We can’t let her go in there.” It was Namjoon who was being the voice of reason this time, causing both Jin and Jungkook to let out a collective sigh of relief. The five men continued to argue while you got lost in your thoughts. Hoseok wanted you to navigate Big Hit? Alone? You mulled it over in your head for a minute, remembering Yoongi’s words. If he was able to hack the cameras, they wouldn’t be able to see you, right? You felt so grateful towards Jin and Namjoon, and even Jungkook, for helping you, you wanted to contribute in some way. You wanted to help them, ease their pain at the loss of their friends.

With this thought in mind, you spoke up, “I could do it…” you trailed off, voice quiet. All five of the men’s heads snapped towards you, most with looks of disbelief on their faces. Even Hoseok hadn’t expected you to agree, he was testing you, to see how you would react. Yoongi looked at you curiously, waiting for your next words. He couldn’t deny the clench in his heart at Seokjin’s words. No, he wasn’t willing to risk you, but if you were offering... “I mean.. I want to help,” you hesitated, looking between Jin and Jungkook who were now looking angrily at you. You shrunk in on yourself a bit, awaiting their response.

“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi remarked. He was trying hard to contain the fear he felt at allowing you to enter Big Hit alone. He knew it was dangerous, and he really wanted to not care about your well-being, but try as he might, he was terrified of allowing you to do this. He assumed he hid it well though, because everyone bar Hoseok was looking at him with incredulousness.

“No way,” Seokjin spoke first, his tone leaving nothing up for discussion, “this conversation is over.” Jin stood up abruptly, looking directly at Namjoon, “You aren’t ok with this, are you?” The look in his eye was intense, and Namjoon could feel it. He could feel the emotions Jin felt towards you, that he was going to do whatever it took to protect you. Namjoon would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way.

Namjoon let out a short sigh and closed his eyes before setting his gaze on Yoongi, “We can figure this out without involving YN.”

“You heard her,” Yoongi growled, “she’s willing to risk her life. Who am I to tell her no?”

From there, the argument got even more heated, Jungkook even getting involved at one point. You were starting to feel uncomfortably hot in this cramped space. You understood both sides. You wanted to help, but you also knew that whatever you were volunteering yourself to do was dangerous. You needed air.

Suddenly, you stood up from the sofa announcing to the others that you ‘needed space’ and bolted out the door. Jungkook turned to run after you, but Hoseok, who was now standing next to the youngest, put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let me go Hobi-hyung, I need to make sure YN is ok,” Jungkook rushed out, turning to the elder.

“Let her go, Kookie. This is probably a lot for her,” Hoseok told the boy, who looked like his heart was breaking at his words, “She’ll be ok, give her time.”

In your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you missed the look of absolute devastation on Jin’s face. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything to repay them. He didn’t want you to feel like you owed them. He couldn’t believe how strongly he felt for you after only one day, longing for your presence next to him, now that it was suddenly gone. He could see that Jungkook - and to some extent, Namjoon - felt similarly.

Namjoon’s heavy sigh could be heard by everyone in the room, even over the loud chatter between the boys, as he slowly rose from his seat. As he made his way over to the door, he looked over his shoulder at the hacker. “Fix this.” His words held a finality that made Yoongi gulp. The blonde had a stoic outer shell that was hard to crack, but no one in this building could deny Namjoon was the one in charge, the one they wouldn’t defy. Yoongi nodded, biting the inside his cheek to hold back his retorts as Namjoon left the room.

After you burst out of Yoongi’s room earlier, you ran towards the big metal door that led outside the warehouse. You didn’t really want to go home, you were way too scared of what might be waiting for you there, but you did need some fresh air and some time to process everything that has happened to you since yesterday.

You made your way down the long winding path that led back to the fork in the path at the edge of the forest. You were thankful Jungkook had found you a pair of slippers earlier and you were no longer barefoot. You passed the broken fence blocking the dirt road down to the quarry and carefully hiked down until you were at the embankment and sat on the edge of the water. It really was beautiful and now that you were up close, you could see how clear the water was. It looked like liquid gemstones, barely rippling in the slight breeze. The marble looked so pretty up close, nearly snow white with swirls and lines of grey. It was calming out here. You took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the water and the trees.

You have never done well with crowds of people. Not that five men were a crowd by any means, but you weren’t used to being around more than a couple of people at a time. Growing up, you had severe anxiety, especially while at school, and it carried over to adulthood. You also haven’t had many chances to socialize as an adult, outside of Mina and Woo. Being thrown into a situation with five men, two of whom you don’t think even want you around, is a lot. It’s only been twenty four hours and you’re already starting to regret leaving your home. You thought about your mom, and the huge breakfasts and dinners she would make for you and your father. Your father, who you didn’t know if you could even trust anymore. You’ve lived your whole life putting all your trust in your parents, as one should. But now you were questioning everything. Were they aware of your genetic rarity? Did they know about Big Hit all along? You had so many unanswered questions that you would probably never have answers to unless you went home.

Your mind wandered to Mina and Woo. How you weren’t sure if you would ever get to see them again. You were worried about them, worried that they would look for you and find themselves in some kind of trouble. They were your only friends growing up, and you didn’t even get to properly say goodbye to them. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt something wet and warm drop into your lap. You were wearing the pants that you got dressed in yesterday morning before what could’ve been your last breakfast with your family. At that thought, the dam within you broke and the tears started flowing.

While staring at your damaged hands, you were reminded of Seokjin, and his caring nature. The tall, broad shouldered man who has shown you nothing but kindness. He was so gentle with you, like no one ever has been before. He made your heart flutter and your mind blank when he spoke to you. You thought back to how angry he had been with his own friends, over you, a girl he just met. He was defending you, and it made you feel like you were tearing a family apart. You didn’t want to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, any pain or harm. But then you thought back to how nice his large hand had felt against the delicate skin of your face this morning, and how his words had made you blush with fondness. You’ve never loved someone outside of your family, never even had a crush before. You weren’t sure how to define what you felt for Seokjin, but it felt good.

Then you thought about Namjoon, the well spoken and intelligent man who was the reason you were brought in with welcoming arms. From what you’ve gathered, he was the one who pushed to find you, to make sure they did something to stop Big Hit from getting to you. You were thankful for him, and you didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose you or his brothers. He cared for them deeply, you could see that clearly.

Jungkook was mysterious to you. He seemed so shy and timid, yet he was so angry with Yoongi earlier in defense of you. He had shown you one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever witnessed before, and given you one of the most precious smiles you’ve ever seen. You wanted to learn more about him, get to know him, be his friend. You felt drawn to the boy and wanted to protect him. It was odd, you’ve never felt an instinct to take care of someone else before, aside from maybe your cat. You wondered if that was how Seokjin felt towards the rest of them, the thought causing your heart to clench, emphatic towards him.

The red haired man, Hoseok, was the one you knew the least about. It felt like he didn’t really like you, but he was so hard to read. You remembered what Namjoon said about him being excitable and friendly, but you had yet to experience it yourself. As much as you felt unwelcomed by him and Yoongi, you still felt inclined to get to know him better, a pull to him, much like the others. You couldn’t explain these feelings, and they were confusing you.

The last man of the group, the blonde. Yoongi. He definitely didn’t want you here, and definitely made you feel unwelcome. But could you blame him? You weren’t mad at him. No. You understood completely how he felt. You were a stranger, disposable, and you weren’t his friend. He had no reason to care about you. None of them did. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your mind to conjure up the idea that they owe you anything, that you deserved their care and affection.

As you sat and cried silently to yourself, you let the dark thoughts take over your mind. Were you some kind of charity case to Namjoon? Like he felt the need to save someone who was like him and that’s all you meant to them? Maybe they felt sorry for you, and that’s why they were treating you so kindly. Seokjin acted caring towards everyone, why were you anything special? You were acting crazy, it’s only been a day with these men and you’re already feeling such a strong pull to them. You need to get a hold of yourself. You continued to sit there, on the edge of the water, shoulders hunched as you cried silently. As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea.

To be continued….

A/N: if you made it this far, first of all, THANK YOU! If you want to be added to the taglist, make sure you’re following me and send me an ask. if you enjoy the series consider reblogging so it can reach more readers. i’m feeling a little down about writing right now, so i’m trying to make sure to update next sunday. we will be meeting the twins in the next couple chapters, depending on how long they get, and you will be getting some steamy scenes between YN and (a) boy shortly. much love

xx Des

taglist: @minifruity @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

American Dream

Genre: angst with a happy ending/fluff

Pairing: romantic Dukexiety

World: just-out-of-high-school AU

Content: homophobia, threatened abuse from parents (no actual violence), extreme cold, getting kicked out, minor religious talk, getting outed, AIDS and death mention, fluffy Dukexiety because my heart needs it.

Word count: 2.3k

Comments: She doesn’t have Tumblr, but I need to give a shout out to my kiddo for proof reading and beta-ing most of my fics. She pushes me to write more, and even if she won’t see this, I just need to say it.

This fic is inspired by the song American Dream by MKTO.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up…

The night coolness spread through Virgil like a sickness. It was unforgiving, toxic, seeped with the memories of the evening that curled through his stomach in dark tendrils. Below his bare feet, the sidewalk burned in the way that only ice does, small pebbles digging into his soles. He would do anything for socks. God, why hadn’t he grabbed socks?

Probably for the same reason he hadn’t grabbed shoes.

Please pick up, please pick up, c’mon, pick up already!

His eyes hurt. They already burned with unshed tears that he’d still been too scared to release, and the cool air didn’t help. Crying on the street was a vulnerability he wasn’t ready to face. His lungs burned. He’d been sprinting non-stop for who knows how long. His own panicked gulps for air and the all-too-loud hum of a blinking streetlight were the only sound on the silent street. Virgil had been watching the moths swarm at the fixture for who knows how long, finding odd solace in the fact that at least there was still some life in the darkness. They were still alive, untouched, same as they were yesterday and probably the same as they would be tomorrow, unfazed by the complete turmoil his life had become. And that was somewhat comforting.

“Virgie, you okay? It’s almost midnight!”

Thank fucking god. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain to Remus what had happened. Obviously, Remus would care. That wasn’t a doubt in his mind; that was the only reason he wasn’t anxious as all fuck right now… about the call, that is. He was anxious about approximately everything else. But as soon as the first noise made its way past his lips, the first utterance of a plea for help, everything that he’d been holding back burst forth like a broken dam. He clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the loud sobbing that he suddenly couldn’t contain.

“Shit. Virgil, what happened? I’m coming over. Are you at home?”

That’s the issue. “No,” he gasped, mildly surprised he hadn’t crushed the phone with the way his grip tightened, “I got kicked out.”

“What the fuck?!”

Virgil flinched. “Can… can you come p-pick me up? I’m at the corner of Jackson and Pullard. Please, please, come get me…”

“Yes. Absolutely. I’m on my way. Stay there, okay?”

Virgil hung up reluctantly after agreeing, not wanting his boyfriend to drive while on the phone, even if Remus gladly would have done it. In fact, he’d used to do it all the time; text, eat, do his makeup, all while cruising down the freeway. He’d only put a stop to it when he saw how much it affected Virgil.

He counted down the minutes on his phone, always having been nitpicky with times, knowing that it shouldn’t take Remus more than ten minutes to get there. If he remembered correctly where he was at the moment, that is. Remus had gotten kicked out of his parents’ house in his senior year of high school after a bad fight. They’d never really been great parents, always showing favoritism towards his brother (amongst other things), and he was more than willing to leave. Virgil had tried to beg his parents to let Remus stay with them, but they’d downright refused, calling him a bad influence and a string of other insults that Virgil didn’t even like to think about. God forbid what would happen if they found out the two were dating.

…Well, they did now. And God hadn’t exactly forbidden what they’d done.

But Remus hadn’t had a solid place to live since it had happened almost a year ago. He couch surfed for a while, bouncing between some old friends who had now gone off to college, or just lived in his car. He’d made it work, and had claimed to Virgil that he actually didn’t mind it that much. If he was telling the truth, Virgil wasn’t sure. He’d saved up some money and bought an inflatable mattress that filled up his back seat area, and Virgil was able to give him his family’s old camping stove by convincing them they lost it. It’s not like they’d gone camping since he was a kid, anyways. Last he’d checked, Janus was home for break and Remus was staying with him for the two weeks he was in town, but those two weeks were probably pretty close to done. Unfortunately, Virgil and Janus had never gotten along, so Remus didn’t bring him up. It was a mutual understanding.

As soon as Remus’ car pulled up to the curb, ten minutes on the dot, Virgil basically flung himself into the passenger seat. The car was warm, so so warm, he almost cried again, this time in relief. Remus pulled back onto the road as soon as he was buckled on.

“Vee, what happened?” It wasn’t hard to guess, there were only so many reasons his parents would have to kick him out. He’d narrowed it down to his parent’s finally having it with Virgil’s tattoo artist dream, or… well…

“Someone at my mom’s work found my Instagram. She went up to my mom, basically started gushing about ‘how handsome I was with my boyfriend’. Specifically the picture of us at Pride from a couple years ago.”

“Ah.” Remus knew the picture well. He’d printed it out and it was pinned to the inside of his sun visor.

“Yeah. Mom called my dad, they were both waiting when I got home. Had screenshots and everything. They grilled me about ‘dishonoring God’ and ‘throwing away my life’. Said I was gonna get AIDS. Die before twenty five. Ya know. The whole lecture.”

Remus didn’t. Surprisingly, him being gay was not a concern of his parent’s. His brother was gay too, and they didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. He nodded along anyways.

“They went on for so long. It was insane. Then they dropped the whole ‘you’re not our son’ thing-” Virgil’s voice cracked, but he swallowed around the lump in his throat and continued, “I figured this is where it was leading to, them kicking me out? I thought they’d give me time to pack, though. Except my dad started getting physical-”

“HE WHAT?!” Remus was tempted to turn the fucking car around and drive to Virgil’s house, just to give his parents a piece of his mind. He was fuming; fuck, he hadn’t been this mad in a while.

“Relax, Rem. I got out before he could actually land a hit. That’s why I don’t have anything with me. I had to run.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.” Virgil pulled his feet up onto the seat cross legged, trying to rub some feeling back into them. Luckily, they weren’t bleeding, just cold as hell. That was one less thing to worry about. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course, Vi,” Remus’ voice had taken on a softer edge that he rarely allowed anyone to see, and he reached over to take one of Virgil’s hands into his own, “Speaking of which, why were you on Jackson? That’s, what, three miles away from your house?”

“When I say I ran, I mean literally. I was scared they would follow me.” Virgil shrugged, as if the statement wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing Remus had ever heard. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I just ran. That’s why it took me so long to realize I should call you.”

Remus sighed, letting his thumb run against Virgil’s knuckles. “You don’t have to act all brave, Vi.”

“I don’t think I ever saw you cry when you got kicked out.”

“That’s because I didn’t love my parents. I honestly didn’t. I know your parents mean a lot to you. And I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

It was the truth, but he honestly didn’t want to think about it right now. What kind of loving family kicks out their child? Virgil took a shaky breath in and mumbled, “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. What’s our plan?”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, as if deep in thought. He watched the scenery fade from his suburban area of town to the darker, rural parts of the town’s edge, not knowing or caring where they were driving. The escape from street lights was nice. “Why do we need a plan?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up at the sudden playful tone in Virgil’s words. “Oh?”

“I mean, is anything really holding us here?”

“My, my,” Remus crooned, pulling into an empty lot and parking in the furthest spot from the street, “I thought I was the impulsive one.”

“I’m serious, Rem!” Virgil laughed, swatting lightly at Remus’ hand. The happy sound was like music to his ears. “I’m dead serious! What’s keeping us here?”

“Patton? Logan?”

“Both across the country. And you know they’re considering staying there when they graduate.” Janus’ name was an understood thing. They both knew his school was barely an hour from the other two. Even if Virgil couldn’t stand the guy, he knew that Remus and Janus went far back. Judging by Remus’ slowly brightening expression, he could assume that Janus would probably be down to stay there as well.

“Work?”

“I work at Walmart. They won’t miss me. Try again.”

Remus scrunched his eyebrows almost thoughtfully, even though this was maybe the easiest decision he’d ever had to make. Plus, they both knew Remus didn’t really ‘think’ in general. “It almost sounds like you want to take a roadtrip, my little emo.”

Virgil scrunched his nose at the nickname, but let a wider smile spread across his tear stained cheeks. “I kind of do.”

Remus shut the car off, turning to his boyfriend with a shit eating grin. “I like this new side of you.”

“Well…” Virgil’s voice turned sheepish under the almost cheshire cat level expression, “Should we?”

“Let’s make up our minds tomorrow.” Remus stated, gesturing to the mattress behind him, “Sleep for tonight. You must be exhausted, coming up with ideas like this.”

Virgil grumbled under his breath, something about ‘not being a baby’, but clambered into the backseat after Remus, double checking the locks on the doors as he went. The air mattress was comfier than he thought it would be, and it was only made better when Remus pulled him in like a teddy bear, tugging a blanket over them. They both sighed in contentment, then promptly burst out laughing at the synchronicity.

“Oh my god, what have we become?” Remus gasped, pulling Virgil in closer nonetheless. Virgil snorted in response, looking up to meet Remus’ eyes through a haze of sudden exhaustion and amusement. The laughter died down slowly as they both gave in to their fatigue, finishing the day with a slow kiss that left them both breathless. Virgil fell asleep with plans forming and circulating through his mind, the rest of the evening almost forgotten.

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

His parents were at work, and Virgil knew their kitchen window didn’t lock properly, which was what led to him stuffing everything he could into a black duffel bag while Remus kept watch from his car. He wasn’t too concerned about the parents coming home, but it gave him ample time to look over the map he’d bought from the gas station that morning and plan a route. He didn’t want to admit that his leg was shaking from pure excitement. This idea had been somewhere in the back of his mind for a long time, but he knew Virgil valued his relationship with his family and liked being near them, so he never brought it up. Granted, the situation wasn’t great, but he considered this ‘making the best of it’. A twisted paradise.

He barely flinched as his trunk was thrown open and Virgil threw his bag inside before hopping back into his seat.

“Okay, so how about we drive up to Maine, apparently the sea food is legendary! Then we cut back through Ohio. There’s literally nothing in Ohio, but we can cross it off the list at least! And then-”

Virgil laughed, cutting him off, “I thought we weren’t planning!”

“Well, we need at least a rough idea,” Remus said with a pout, “What we do there and how long we stay, that’s up to impulse. I was thinking we should try to get through all the states, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Virgil could only nod, leaning forward to kiss Remus again. “Sounds amazing,” he murmured, so close they were almost touching. They’d talked to Logan and Patton earlier that morning, and they were equally as excited for the two of them. Remus had called Janus while Virgil was packing, quickly explaining the situation (and also why Remus had disappeared in the middle of the night), and Janus supported it. Made sense, since he was almost as impulsive as Remus. Plus, he was going back to school in a couple days, so it didn’t make much of a difference. That said, they still didn’t have a time limit. Their friends were just starting second semester, meaning they could schedule themselves to arrive in California for summer break, or they could spend longer on the road. But schedules are for chumps.

As they rolled out of the quaint neighborhood Virgil had grown up in, Remus reached down and took his hand again. “Say goodbye to white picket fences.” And god, the joyful expression on Virgil’s face was enough to make him melt.

By the time they hit the freeway, they were both nearly shaking with anticipation. Virgil stuck his hands out the sunroof, the wind whipping through his hair, and let out a whoop that was almost contagious. This was the start of something amazing, they both felt it.

Cali, here we come.

#lywrites #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssides #dukexiety

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theonceoverthinker · 5 years ago

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Staff of Creation Theory Thoughts and Companion Theory

So, like most people in the Fair Game community, I’ve taken notice of the Staff of Creation Theory created by @fairgame-is-canon. To be honest, it took me a while to really believe in the theory -- no offense to fairgame-is-canon, he did a wonderful job creating it, and it’s got some serious backing by all sorts of great fairy tale meta. However, given how much of a blow 7X12 was to my confidence in the writing of RWBY, the new brand of pessimism it birthed in me felt that while the theory itself was good, it was also a stretch. But with more information being DISCORD-vered (Because puns) every day in the group page, I re-evaluated my feelings and started to think what I felt like a Clover resurrection would be like if this theory were true.

And as I thought on it, I found myself differing with the consensus as to some of the circumstances of the resurrection, namely Ironwood’s motivation for using it, how he would get the staff with the new Maiden, and the sacrificed being that would allow for it to happen. Again, I say this not as a slight to fairgame-is-canon, quite the contrary -- he’s one of the leading figures in the #CloverDeservedBetter movement, and I respect the hell out of him as well as consider him a friend -- but just as a fun ‘it could also go like this’ companion theory, so to speak. This one also won’t reference a lot of the meta aspects that back up this theory since that was all done by people far more apt to take it on than myself, but it will instead be focused on the story and character directions that would ultimately inform and follow this decision, in universe.

Now, with all of that said, let’s get to it!

The biggest point of difference between my version of the theory and fairgame-is-canon’s is Ironwood’s motivation for bringing back Clover in the first place. While I think it does make a lot of sense, I personally don’t fully subscribe to the theory that James will give his life to get Clover back. And to be fair, I think his thoughts on why Ironwood would bring him back are super well thought out -- I’m just coming out of V7 with a less than optimistic viewpoint over whether Ironwood can be redeemed at this point. I’m simply not really convinced he can be.

I can guess what you’re probably thinking: If I don’t believe James can be redeemed, then how will Clover be able to come back?

Well, I have a...darker opinion about how that’s going to happen.

To understate things, James is in a BAD spot right now. He lost control over the Winter Maiden, he no longer has access to the Staff of Creation (More on that problem in a minute), he’s all alone, his resources are exhausted, Grimm are destroying Mantle, and oh yeah -- SALEM IS ON HIS DOORSTEP WITH A FREAKIN’ GRIMM WHALE OF DOOM! So now, even his plan of retreating with the staff is utterly moot since Salem is -- again -- RIGHT THERE!

James needs a little bit of help, and a WHOLE LOTTA luck.

Say, wasn’t there someone who used to provide that for him?

So James hears that Qrow and Robyn were brought in, and goes to find out where Clover is, unaware that Clover’s dead.

But Qrow is fast to let him know that.

He SCREAMS at James for Clover’s death, swearing revenge in a rage. James doesn’t even know how to take all of this. Clover’s dead...he truly is doomed.

But during Qrow’s outburst, James notices something -- Clover’s pin in Qrow’s hand.

And then he gets an idea.

James confiscates the pin, and ignoring Qrow’s loud protests and promises of revenge, takes a walk over to the hospital wing.

He walks past Clover’s bed, oddly and notably offhandedly, and instead goes a few doors down...to where Winter’s hospital bed is.

Winter is apologetic for losing control of the Winter Maiden, but James is surprisingly not furious. Instead, he simply and stoically asks who the Winter Maiden is.

And whether intentionally or not, Winter reveals the answer to him.

It’s Penny.

With that revelation, the last piece of James’ plan falls into place, and far easier than he expected it to be at its conception.

Now, Penny may be the Winter Maiden, and emotionally, she’s a real girl first, but she’s also a robot, and a robot James has assured others in the past is under his control.

What if that wasn’t just fluff, said to comfort the already apprehensive council?

And what if, just like he did team RWBYJNROQ’s scrolls, James can take control over Penny whenever he wants?

From the safety of the airship, Penny is unintentionally propelled away from her friends and through the sky back to Atlas Academy. It’s absolutely HORRIFYING to watch, and tragic as even after receiving the ultimate moment of validation that she IS a real girl, Penny is reminded that real girl or not, she’s a robot at the end of the day and just as subject to a certain level of powerlessness as ever. Ruby stretches out her arm as much as she can to try and grab her -- she might even go into Petal Burst mode...but she fails.

James forces her to open the vault, grabs the staff, sacrifices a random minion of his (Or maybe Watts, and that’s why he kept Watts alive), and brings Clover back.

And the episode ends with James holding the staff, and a blinding blue light taking over.

The next one begins at the hospital. The flatline that is next to Clover’s body slowly springs back to life.

Clover wakes up in the same hospital bed that he was in in the previous episode, gasping as he recalls the last moments of his life. Instinctively, he looks to his stomach, which is now whole once more (Pun intended), maybe with a neat blue scar to match the staff’s color.

The nurses and doctors are astounded, and so is he but before they can say anything, Clover runs out of bed.

He's alive, and he needs Qrow to know that.

He RUNS to the jail and DEMANDS to see Qrow, pushing past the guards and running directly into the line of cells.

Qrow and Robyn are sitting in a cell towards the back when suddenly, Qrow hears his name called by an impossible person.

"QROW!"

Qrow and Robyn barely have a moment to register who is calling his name before Clover shows up on the other side of the cell.

It’s all Qrow can do to not lose his balance, and Robyn (Who is also more than a bit happy herself) helps him stay on his feet as he approaches Clover. You can see in Qrow’s eyes that he’s wondering if this is a dream, or if he’s truly gone insane.

But no...something gets through to him that this is the real Clover Ebi.

Through the bars, forgetting everything and everyone else just for this moment, they hug, unashamed of everything that they mean to each other. Qrow might tear up a bit.

Clover is about to call over a guard to release them, but then remembers...Qrow was put under arrest for more than just his murder.

That’s when both of them (Plus Robyn) ask how this is even possible.

And then, James comes in.

He tells Clover that he brought him back because he is his most loyal aide, and then directs him out of the jail cell. Clover really doesn't want to leave -- not without Qrow -- but James refuses. Reluctantly, Clover complies with James’ wishes, but before that happens, once James has left the cell, he promises Qrow and Robyn he'll figure this out and convince James to free them.

Throughout the volume, Clover comes to realize how fucked up James' priorities are, but still thinks his mind can be changed. During this time, he also visits the prison once or twice to confer with Qrow and Robyn. It's during those visits that we learn just why Clover trusts James so much. My theory is that James never made Clover feel like he was just his semblance, and was useful for his skills and kind heart.

But then, he inadvertently finds out that James indeed did only revive Clover for his semblance. James is stoic once this truth comes to light, and alongside the doubts that had already been overwhelming Clover over James’ priorities, this convinces Clover to finally leave James’ company.

It's exciting, non?

AND there's more

@whipped4qrow helped me out with this one

Clover then goes to the jail to finally free Qrow and Robyn...but they aren't there (Think Zuko trying to rescue Iroh in “The Day of Black Sun” in ATLA).

That's right! The Happy Huntresses freed them!

But Clover knows where they're going, and this time, he’s staying on Qrow’s side until the bitter end.

We catch up with Qrow an episode later, and after leaving the Happy Huntresses to pursue another Grimm, Tyrian finds him, and the two are set up for another fight.

However, Qrow's all alone, and after fighting a bunch of Grimm (Probably not even using Harbinger), Tyrian is FAR more equipped to take him on than vice versa. He has Qrow on the ropes, but suddenly, Tyrian is propelled backwards by his tail, screaming as he flies through the air.

Qrow is on the floor, and panics because snow dust covers his vision. He’s unsure of what will happen next.

But then, he sees a hand through the dust, and takes it.

And as the dust clears, he sees Clover standing there, holding his hand, and smiling.

“Need some help?”

Qrow smiles back.

“You bet I do.”

And together, they beat the SHIT outta Tyrian!

I don’t have any real predictions beyond that, but I think this companion theory gives way to complete Clover, James, Tyrian, and Qrow’s character arcs.

...That’s all, folks.

#fair game #clover ebi #qrow branwen #anti ironwood #staff of creation theory #robyn hill #rwby

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clan-sayeed-fic · 5 years ago

Text

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: strong language, very little fluff/smut? (it turns out I don’t know what I’m writing about at this point hahaha) Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I must say, I wasn't expecting to upload this story at all. And here we are, in the middle of what I have already written. And I haven't even got to the ending... let's say I'm gonna torture you with this story till you'll have enough of it. 😋

Today's chapter is the longest so far, hope you'll enjoy it. The first time I'm not giving hints about what will happen in the next chapter. I hope you like mysteries!😘

~ 2600 words

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

Chapter 11

The smell of sweat filled the room.

Another scream echoed between the walls when Lily went flying through the whole length of the gym, finally hitting the floor.

"Again," Kamilah's cold voice was repeating the same word over and over.

Amy buried her face in her hands. She was sitting on the floor against the mirror on the wall. They were in the private training hall which apparently, Kamilah had in her company building.

"Come on," Lily panted, barely standing on her feet. "How can you not even stumble a little?!"

Indeed, for this whole time, Kamilah was barely touchable. The only moments when Kamilah was within Lily's reach happened because the woman by herself let her to. There was no sweat on Kamilah's body, no heavy breathing coming out of her lungs. She kept her upright posture the whole time. The only thing that had been changing was the color of her eyes, which turned red every time Lily planned to attack.

"Because I'm focusing, unlike you," Kamilah growled, annoyed.

Lily steadied her body. It was easy to recognize that she was losing her temper. Pain and exhaustion were reaching their limits within her. After each strike, her wounds healed impossibly fast, which was the advantage of being a newly turned. But it has its cons too. Her body was regularly devastated and healed.

And even the healing process could hurt sometimes depending on the injury.

Lily looked at Kamilah one more time, searching for weak points in her defensive position. Finally, she attacked, using her vampire speed, which made everything go blurry before Amy's eyes.

And then one more time: sounds of loud breaths, punching, scream, and Lily was on the floor writhing in pain.

Amy stood up momentarily, wanting to help her friend. She had an impulse to do it whenever Lily fell on the floor. And like every time before, now too, Kamilah's red eyes stopped her from doing this. The woman wanted the newly turned vampire to handle herself without help.

"Again," Kamilah was always ready.

"No," Lily stood up, her cracked bones healed loudly, making her bend in pain. "We did it like a hundred times, no more," sweat all over her face.

Amy knew already how this would turn out. Kamilah's eyes were still red. Not because of the fight this time, but the rage that burned inside of her. There was not much that Amy could do in this situation, so she stayed silent and watched the women.

"Do you realize that you are in no position to argue?" Kamilah's voice sharp like it could cut through anything. "The meeting will begin in a few hours. That doesn't give us much time to improve your skills."

"Yeah, exactly!" Lily shouted. "What's the point of all of this?" she made a gesture showing the training hall.

"Degree of your training might be our only chance to convince the Council from giving you a death sentence," Kamilah frowned at how reckless Lily acted.

Since they had no time anymore on convincing members of the Council before the meeting, they had to come up with a new idea. Adrian reminded Kamilah that back in the days the Council used to make its decisions based on how well trained the newly turned vampire was.

Kamilah did great by training Lily. And the girl by herself made enormous progress. But still, Kamilah was afraid that it might not have been enough. And she needed to be sure that it would be, thinking of Adrian's fate.

"I know," Lily became upset. At this point, Amy had a remarkably hard time standing in one place. "Just give me a break, ok?"

"Fifteen minutes," Kamilah ordered.

Lily inhaled deeply and turned to the exit. Finally, Amy moved into her direction, wanting to comfort her. But, to her great astonishment, that was not what her friend needed at the time.

"Don't, seriously," Lily didn't even bother to look at her. "I wanna be alone right now."

Amy stopped heartbroken. They had known each other for very long. Amy had time to learn that the best she could do in such moments was to let her be. No matter how hard it was for her to resist the urge of hugging Lily and telling her that she did great, it would do more harm than good.

Finally, Amy composed herself and turned around to Kamilah, feeling angry at her.

The woman walked to the corner of the hall, where she left her things. She drank water from the bottle and took off her training gloves, throwing them to the opened bag.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," Amy's voice was full of complaint.

"Live won't be easy for her either," Kamilah turned to face the girl. "Besides, I wasn't harsh. I'm sure even you could have dealt with it."

Amy's eyes raised. She was surprised by Kamilah's statement, and looking at her made Amy believe in the woman's words even less.

Kamilah stood in front of her wearing a black, simple sports bra and leggings. Her hair back into a loose ponytail, letting some of the hair fell from behind her ears. Her darker complexion was shining from the effort she put in training Lily. Muscles in her body highlighted by the faint light that was reaching the corner. Amy looked into her eyes and swallowed nervously.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I truly doubt that,"

Amy wanted to turn from Kamilah when she felt her hand grabbing Amy by the wrist swirling her around till she stood with her back against Kamilah's chest. The grip on Amy's wrist was still solid when Kamilah lowered her head to her neck, making Amy shiver.

"Why don't you let me prove you wrong?" a sweet whisper from Kamilah's mouth straight into the soft skin.

Amy barely stopped the moan from escaping her mouth when the other hand moved from her hip, up to her waist. Slowly getting under her shirt, like she was waiting for a reaction.

You're angry at her, remember? Amy told herself in thoughts and with difficulty broke free from Kamilah's grip, causing her smirk with satisfaction.

"All right, I'll try," Amy's breath quickened already. "I can't see how this is supposed to prove anything since your way much stronger and faster."

"I won't use my advantages," Kamilah ensured, taking the position. "Try to hit me."

Amy inhaled deeply, showing a lack of confidence. But despite doubts, she made a fist out of her right palm. And when she wanted to attack, hesitation hit her with doubled strength.

"This is ridiculous," Amy laughed nervously.

"Of course, it is when you're preparing yourself to..." Kamilah said ironically.

Then, Amy hit her, acting impulsively. She certainly caught the woman off guard, but still, Kamilah blocked her effortlessly. She made Amy stumble a little, but there was no pain after Kamilah's defending move.

"Not bad," Kamilah said honestly, "try again."

"Oh no, I know how it goes with your 'again'..." Amy made an impression of Kamilah quite adequately.

Amy wanted to say something more, but she sensed the attack coming before Kamilah even planned to do this. Thanks to that, Amy dodged to the side at the right time, making Kamilah lose full strength on the missed attack.

The woman turned around with an impressed expression on her face.

"How did you do that?" Kamilah couldn't hide how dazzled she was.

"Um..." Amy looked at her own hands.

Then, Kamilah attacked again, trying to prove her theory.

Amy blocked every attack in a similar way that Kamilah did previously. The girl wasn't impossibly strong or agile. She just knew where Kamilah would hit and with what force.

After a series of attacks, Kamilahs stopped, her breath increased.

"This is quite a discovery," this time, the woman took Amy's hand gently, trying to figure out how was it even possible for someone without training to achieve something like that.

She didn't use her vampire abilities, but still. Amy was not muscular, her arms were weak, and she could not even beat properly.

"I guess," Amy smiled, but it was weird for her too. "I'm just better at defending myself."

"That's for sure," Kamilah stopped examining Amy, but her hand was still resting on her arm.

They stood close for long seconds, looking into each other's eyes.

Then, they heard a throat clearing, which ruined the moment.

"I don't wanna interrupt or something," Lily stood in the entrance, smiling widely. Her mood went back to its normal state.

Amy blushed, stepping away from Kamilah. The woman looked at the clock hanging on the wall to see that twenty minutes had passed.

"You're late," Kamilah stated a fact.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Lily couldn't help but tease.

"Why don't you find out and try to fight me?" Kamilah crossed her arms, with a daring look in her eyes.

Lily's smile faded when she understood that she just made her own existence a lot harder.

***

It was the hour of the Council meeting. Amy was told to stay in Kamilah's office while the rest of them went to the conference room to meet with the others from the Council. Amy knew that one of them would be Priya, and she doubted if the woman would vote on Lily's side.

There was the Baron who was at least likable from the men of the Council. Kamilah was sure that they would have to make a deal with him to persuade him on voting- aye. But nothing was certain with this vampire.

She heard about Lester. That Adrian had an argument with him recently, so they didn't even count on his vote.

There was their new Clan leader, Jax. He would undoubtedly vote on Lily's side since he knew how it felt to be Clanless. He remembered constant fear of becoming feral too well.

The last one was Adam Vega, the least predictable. He appeared fine but always needed more power. His vote depended on how beneficial the whole situation would turn out for him.

***

Amy kept walking from desk to doors, with her arms crossed.

It has been nearly an hour since the meeting started. How long could it take? She was curious about how Lily performed her skills before the Council members. If they even wanted to test how well trained she was.

Finally, Adrian walked in, making Amy jump.

"And?" she couldn't wait anymore.

Adrian looked at her with his eyes full of tiredness.

"It's not looking good," he said honestly, "We need to convince Adam to vote on our side," he was deadly serious. "He wants to talk with you."

"What?" Amy was shocked. "Why me?"

"He is considering you a threat," Adrian didn't have to put this gently. "He wants to know how did you manage to convince me to turn Lily. Of course, you don't have to agree on this if you don't want to."

Amy straightened up, feeling ready.

"I do," she forced a confident smile, "we win this today."

Amy followed Adrian to the conference room. When they walked in, the first person that she saw was Kamilah sitting in the most important seat. She was looking through the window, frowning.

Lily was standing by the wall, she wasn't smiling like before. Amy wondered what had happened there in her absence because the tension in the air seemed almost touchable.

Kamilah could smell Amy's perfume, and that's what made her took her eyes off the city. She was surprised to see the girl standing in the room next to Adrian.

"Adrian," her voice cold, "I thought we made a decision."

Adrian gulped unsurely under Kamilah's gaze. He hated to disagree with her.

"I..." he started, but Amy interrupted.

"You wanted to talk with me," her eyes moved to Adam, who was sitting between Priya and Lester.

"I did," he smiled, "I wanted to meet this infamous human being."

He looked over Amy's body like he was worried that someone of her average height could be a threat to him. Amy fought the urge to correct her pose as she managed to hold his gaze.

Priya obviously recognized Amy even if nearly 4 months had passed since they met. The fashion designer laughed loudly and spoke with irony.

"So first you're making me fire my employee... and then, Adrian to change your friend into the vampire," she licked her lips hungrily. "You've got some nerve."

Amy stepped nervously. She knew that Priya's words were not working in the interest of this case. And as she predicted, Adam became even more suspicious toward her.

"How could someone owning such a weak body, convince the most powerful creature walking on Earth to do something against its will," Adam said, wondering.

Amy could sense that Kamilah was trying her best, not interrupting.

"I would say that I can be pretty convincing," Amy smiled sweetly, trying to buy herself some time to collect her thoughts.

"I can see this happening," he said, scratching his beard. "But still, what Adrian could have from saving your friend? What could you possibly give him?"

I'm a fucking Bloodkeeper, Amy's thoughts screamed. She wasn't sure if she should have ever trusted Adrian or Kamilah. But, one thing was clear, Adam was far away from gaining her appreciation.

"Listen to me, Vega," Amy spoke with a strength in her voice, making everyone in the room freeze. "I know that I'm in the way. The human who knows about vampires... it can not be convenient." Adam wanted to deny, but she kept going, "You would like to kill me to keep me quiet, but it's against the rules," she was looking directly into his eyes. "On the other hand, a human who knows about vampires is... also against the rules.'' Noone interrupted her. ''There is only one solution."

Amy made a pause, giving everyone a chance to rethink her words. She knew she was walking a fine line, but there was no way back.

Vega seemed to be shocked by Amy's confidence. Actually, everyone in the room was, even herself. Words just left her mouth like she was a completely different person.

"Then, Amy," Adam said, "what solution would you suggest?"

Exactly, what do you suggest, Amy thought. It's not like she wasn't prepared or anything. She felt more afraid now that it would not be enough.

"We make a deal," Amy gulped, partially losing her confidence. "You, vote aye, and I..." that wasn't smart, she knew that right now, "will owe you a favor."

Everyone in the room moved significantly after those words. Adam let out a whistle as he was considering Amy's offer.

"That's not an option," Kamilah stood up, losing control.

Lily wanted to say something, but Adrian stopped her, keeping her by the arm. He didn't want things to go any more complicated than they already had become.

"Why would I want your favor?" Adam asked, ignoring Kamilah's words.

"You said it yourself," Amy kept his gaze. "How could I control two different vampires, "she kept on repeating his words, changing her tone to more sarcastic. "The most powerful creatures walking on Earth, right?" her left eyebrow lifted for a moment.

Adam leaned back in his chair. He kept on scratching his beard.

In the room fell silence of anticipation.

"Aye, then," Adam's voice, loudly cutting through the silence.

Kamilah let out a breath after hearing this. She should feel happy and relieved because they won. Lily was saved from becoming feral. Adrian, free from punishment. But at what cost?

Right then, Amy realized that she started playing a remarkably dangerous game.

And she was just the beginner since they all had been playing in it for centuries.

Next chapter: 12

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

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound kamilah #bb kamilah #bloodbound mc #bb mc #bloodkeeper #vampires #lily spencer #the council #adrian raines #priya lacroix #adam vega #bloodbound #choices bloodbound #choices bb #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic

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steebharringt0n · 5 years ago

Text

sanctuary - part 7

summary: Subject 001. That’s what you’ve been called your whole life. You’ve known nothing but pain, violence, and isolation. You were their greatest secret weapon, but when your final mission is to ensure the end of the universe, you escape to Hawkins, Indiana to team up with Eleven and to put an end to all this chaos, once and for all - you just never expected to fall in love with the resident bad boy along the way.

rating: m

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

warning: graphic violence, slurs, abuse, curse words.

A/N: this chapter took on a life of it’s own. i know i promised billy fluff but i really want this to be a slow burn so yeah you’ll see.

001. prologue 002. firestarter 003. spitfire 004. friend 005. sister 006. plans

--- 007. feelings

Eleven stirred in her sleep, shifting soundlessly in her sleeping bag. She weakly opened her eyes to see the sunlight peeking through her tent. Becoming more awake she sat upright, rubbing her eyes with her hands, her mouth letting out a long yawn. She looks over at Max’s sleeping bag but it’s empty. She’s probably out with the guys, she thinks to herself.

Eleven slowly pulls herself up, walking over to the entrance of the tent and pokes her head out, “Max?”

She’s met with silence.

Frowning, she tries again, “Max?”

Nothing.

She quickly slips on her shoes, shoving them in her feet, not caring that they aren’t properly put on. She steps outside the tent, but sees no one.

“Mike?! Hop?!”

She spins her head around, but all she sees are the tall trees that surround her. She’s trying to find someone, anyone at this point. Panic starts to gnaw at her stomach when she realizes the tents are empty and everyone is gone. Like vanished into thin air. She swallows hard, tears start to prick her eyes as she screams, her voice booming through the trees, “MIKE!”

“They’re not here, they’re all dead”

Her head whips around to the voice. She recognizes that voice, she hates that voice. Her bottom lip trembling, she squints her eyes, trying to get a better look of the figure coming towards her. She’s fully ready to fight, whether it be a human or anything from the Upside Down. The figure comes closer to her and the color drains from her face, her stomach feels like it’s going to fall out of her body.

“B - Brenner … “

He moves towards her like a snake, slithering towards her. A wicked smile on his lips, black veins protrude from his face. He’s not human anymore … he’s something much more evil, and she can sense it.

“Eleven … my little girl … we’ve been waiting for you … we’re building it for you … and your sister” his voice comes out smooth but she feels his dark undertone. Next to him suddenly you appear from the shadows of the trees. Brenner glances down at you and grips your shoulder. Eleven recoils, she takes a step back as her eyes quickly scan you. You’re definitely the girl she saw with Billy, but you’re in a hospital gown, similar to how she used to wear one. Your face is stoic, blank but Eleven knows that you’re powerful, way more than her.

“Where’s Mike?!” she barks at him, trying to ignore your presence. Her fists are balled up at her side as tears are freely falling from her face. She’s terrified, almost paralyzed by fear. She knows she can take Brenner down but you? You’re a whole different challenge.

“Jane … he’s dead. They’re all dead. Hopper, Max, Dustin, Will, all your little friends, are dead.” He speaks so nonchalantly it sends chills down her spine.

“No … no, you’re lying, you’re dead!” she screams at him.

Brenner and you walk closer to her, the only thing that stands between them is the campfire that has now been reduced to ashes. He chuckles darkly at her, cracking his neck slowly as she starts to notice the dark veins around his face have traveled down to his neck, his voice morphs into something darker, menacing, “We’re going to kill everyone and everything, including you!”

Eleven’s feet are planted, she can’t move. Before she can react, she finds herself facing you, towering over her small frame. Your mouth is twisted into an evil smirk and Eleven knows that she’s met her demise. Your hand suddenly reaches out and grips her neck tightly. Eleven can’t fight back, you’re far too strong for her. She tries to scream but nothing comes out of her mouth. Her powers as useless as kicks her legs, being lifted in air.

“If you’re not with us. You’re against us” you speak to her, but it’s not your voice. It’s something much more evil.

She grabs your hands in an attempt to fight back but she starts to feel light. Her head begins to pound and her eyes start to close...

“El! EL! WAKE UP!”

Eleven jolts up from her sleeping bag. She lets out a loud wail as Mike holds her close in his arms. Her eyes are bloodshot, tears constantly flowing out of them. She grips onto Mike for dear life, sobbing hysterically into his shirt as he presses gentle kisses on the top of her head.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here, it was just a nightmare” he croaks out, rubbing small circles with his hand on her back.

Hopper quickly runs inside the tent, crouching down. He lifts Eleven head to meet his gaze, but she’s a babbling mess.

“Hey, hey sweetheart, we’re all here. No one’s gonna leave you” he comforts her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“H - Hop … He’s back … he’s back” Eleven splutters out, her bottom lip trembling. Hopper’s face hardens, “Who’s back El?”

“I - I think Brenner is back, and I - I think he has my sister”

Hopper and Mike exchange concerned looks. Mike glances down at the trembling girl in his arms. There was no way that Brenner could be back. Brenner died, Mike saw it. There has been no sign of him since.

“What do you mean, your sister?” Mike carefully questions.

“I - I saw her, with Billy last night. Max and I were spying on him. She has the same tattoo I had … something’s not right Mike. I feel it” her voice is quiet as she speaks.

Hopper swallows hard, as Eleven continues to speak, “We need to go home Hop, I think we’re in danger”

---

“Not this one, not this one, definitely not this one”

You sat on Nancy’s bed holding piles of clothes, watching as Nancy rummaged through her closet for something decent for you to wear to the party tonight. Nancy had a little sister, but she obviously wasn’t old enough to take to parties. The only friend she really had was Barb, but since passed away she spent a lot of her time with Jonathan (not that she minded). So when the opportunity arose to take you under her wing, Nancy was more than happy to be the Max to your El.

“Uh, Nancy … are you sure these are going to fit me?” you question hesitantly, glancing down at the white skirt in your arms.

“Yes, I promise you they will. Now I just have to find that black top and … a-ha!” Nancy jumps out from her closet, in her hand a black blouse that looks like it could fit a toddler. You frown at her, “That looks tiny”

“It’s a crop top, it’s supposed to be tiny” She throws it at you, landing in your face. You grab the crop top and hold it out with both hands, you stare at it in disgust.

“What’s the point of wearing half a shirt?!” you exclaim.

“It’ll go with the skirt, I promise!”

There’s a sudden knock at Nancy’s door. Both of you whip your heads, exchanging looks to each other. “Nance, is everything okay in there? I heard a voice, but Jonathan’s car isn’t here”

Nancy raises a finger to her lips, signifying to you to keep your mouth closed. Just as with Billy, you silently nod back.

“Just helping a friend out with a makeover, girl stuff, you know!”

Nancy hears shuffling outside her door, “Okay, well let me know if you need to borrow any makeup! I’ll be in the kitchen!”

The both of you stay quiet until you hear Karen’s footsteps go back down the stairs. Nancy lets out a sigh of relief, “Close one … now let’s see you try it on!” she suddenly changes subject, focusing back on the task at hand.

You groan loudly, lowering your head, “I’m starting to think this party isn’t such a good idea”

Nancy grabs your hand and pulls you from the bed. You stand up sluggishly, dragging your feet as she takes you to her bathroom, shoving you there. “Change, now” she orders.

“B-but Nancy … “ you turn to face her, your mouth is set into a pout. Nancy doesn’t answer you, instead she slams the bathroom door in your face, leaving you alone in the tiny illuminated room. You groan loudly, placing the clothes on top of the bathroom counter. You lazily take of your clothes piece by piece. You manage to shimmy your way into the high-waisted white skirt. It’s form fitting, hugging your hips and legs. You then manage to then put on the black crop top, which really volumized your figure.

You open up the bathroom door and Nancy squeals.

“You look amazing!”

You can’t help but smile at her joyfulness as she instructs you to spin around, showing off every angle in your new outfit. She claps excitedly, getting up from the bed and dragging you back into the bathroom.

“Now, your makeup and hair”

Nancy looks through one of her drawers, rummaging around loudly while you stare at her confused. She pulls out an iron curler and your eyes widen, more in fear than confusion, “What in the hell is that thing?”

“Just sit still and let me handle the rest”

---

Billy takes a long drag of his cigarette, his body leans against his blue camero as he stands outside Stacy Peterson’s house, his eyes surveying the large crowd that is starting to form outside of her house. He’s debating about whether or not he should go in, something in him doesn’t sit right and he can’t quite put his finger on it but it’s really fucking bugging him and he swears it has something to do with you.

But you’re not his problem anymore. He’s wiped his hands clean with you and now he can enjoy living his life. All he has left to do is to graduate in a couple of months and back its to California.

“Hey Hargrove! I got a bone to pick with you!”

Tommy H’s voice pulls him away from his thoughts. He turns his neck to see the dark-haired boy stomping over to him, his hand in a cast. He’s pissed, he knows it, but then again, he wasn’t the one that broke his arm. Besides, Tommy was asking for it.

Billy throws his cigarette onto the ground, stomping it with his boot. He says nothing as Tommy appears in front of him, his nostrils flared and his eyes wide, “Where the fuck is your little girlfriend Hargrove? She broke my hand in three different places!” he shouts at Billy, his voice almost cracking at the end.

Billy bites his tongue, trying his hardest to hold in a chuckle. He knows if he laughs it’ll just set Tommy off even more, so he just stays quiet. He should have listened to him and should have just left the diner.

“Hargrove are you even listening to me?!” Tommy fumes at him.

Billy rolls his eyes, pushing himself off of his camero and turns his back on him,

“You got what you asked for Tommy, should have left the diner”

He leaves Tommy in a frustrated rage. Ignoring his yells and screams as he starts to make his way towards the front door. But a sudden familiar car catches his eye and he stops in his tracks, turning his neck towards it.

It’s as if everything is happening in slow motion and Billy’s breath suddenly hitches. He watches you slowly come out of Nancy Wheeler’s passenger car in the most skin tight skirt he’s ever seen. His mouth starts to water as his eyes eat you away, ravishing you from bottom to top. Your hair is perfectly curled, and your bruises are nowhere to be seen. The dark, smokey eye shadow makes your [E/C] eyes pop, and the pink blush makes your cheekbones stand out. For a second he wonders what the pink lipstick you have on would look like on his neck but he quickly throws those thoughts out of his head when he realizes that Nancy has brought a girl with super-human powers to the party.

He walks into the party, his feet guiding him to kitchen counter where he knows they’re handing out pure fuel.

It’s going to be a long night, he might as well be prepared for it.

---

“Nancy … Nancy, everyone is staring at me and it feels weird”

You tighten your grip on Nancy’s arm as the both of you walk into the party, Jonathan trailing behind as he stops to say hi to some of his friends. You could feel the male gaze of the party devour you with their eyes, and the girls look away from you, scowling. You weren’t quite sure what to make of it, but Nancy told you to just go with the flow. The music is loud, there are people everywhere and you suddenly feel claustrophobic. You turn to face Nancy and you’re met with a reassuring smile.

“It’s crazy in here!” you scream at her over the music. Nancy giggles, squeezing your hand as she leads you over to the counter where pure fuel was being served. This was your first night as a teenager, and she’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy it. You let your grip on her go as she grabs two red solo cups. She grabs the ladle and carefully pours in the red concoction in your cup, then into hers. You stare at it as she takes a large glup, watching as the liquid dribbles from her bottom lip.

“Drink! It’s good!” she urges, grabbing your hand and pushing the cup towards your mouth.

Pure fuel is dangerous. It’s a fruity mixed drink in where the amount of fruit juice overpowers the taste of alcohol. No one can taste the alcohol, but they know it’s there. Two full cups can even make Billy stumble around. You carefully take a sip of the drink, smacking it with your lips as the cool liquid slides down your throat.

You don’t taste the alcohol, so you decide to chug the whole thing.

“Whoa, whoa! Small glups!” Nancy remarks, grabbing your wrist and pulling the cup away from your mouth this time.

“What is this?! This is great!” you shout enthusiastically.

“Pure fuel! Don’t drink it all! Small sips okay?” Nancy warns, sticking her finger in your face. You nod, pushing the cup towards your lips as you take another sip.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you around before, do I know you?” a voice suddenly booms behind you. You turn your body around and face a tall dark-haired guy. He smiles at you and you almost get weak at the knees. You’re not sure how to respond so glance over to Nancy.

“Uh, she’s my cousin! Out of town! Actually from Europe!”

His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip as his eyes hungrily run down your body, “European huh? I love me European girls” he says huskily. Nancy nudges you, and you turn your attention back to the guy in front of you.

“I’m Y/N.” you proudly state, eager to show of your newly picked name. The guy outstretches his hand, “I’m Kyle, Kyle Thompson”

You take his hand into yours and you shake it. His hands feel cold compared to your warm ones, his thumb sweeping over your skin. It feels nice, but it doesn’t sit right with you.

Over in a corner, Billy’s eyes zero in on you. Watching you as you give Kyle Thompson a half-smile, taking a sip of your drink.

Kyle Thompson is a dud. He knows he can’t get any girl in Hawkins so of course he chooses the girl who everyone can’t keep their eyes off of, including himself. He grips the beer in his hand, bringing it to his lips and taking a large gulp.

She’s not your problem, she’s not your problem, Billy keeps telling himself.

“Baby, do you want to go somewhere quiet?” coos a girl next to him. He’s forgotten her name at this point, and he’s been paying no mind towards her. She’s hanging onto him like a leech and it’s getting to the point where he wants to shrug her off. His eyes narrow as he watches Kyle lean in towards your ear, probably telling you a stupid joke, but you laugh out loud anyways.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m gonna go meet up with Jonathan” Nancy tells you, momentarily breaking the conversation between you and Kyle. Nancy quickly leans in towards your ear, “Remember, no powers and have fun okay? Jonathan and I will be around, look for us if you need us” she whispers.

You quickly nod at her, and she gives you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. You watch as she disappears into the crowd, turning your attention back to Kyle who was pouring himself more of the pure fuel.

“So uh, what’s a pretty girl doing here in Hawkins? Nancy’s your cousin?” he asks, leaning back on the kitchen counter. You nod at him, “Yeah, from Russia actually”

You weren’t really from Russia, but the lie fit.

“Nice, nice. So uh, do you maybe wanna go somewhere quiet, get to know each other better?” His lips curve into a sly smile. His hand suddenly finds itself placed on your waist and you instantly tense up. You know he means no harm but the gesture makes you nervous.

Billy catches this. He watches as your face hardens at his touch, and he wonders if you’re going to snap his hand in half for touching you in such a way. But you don’t, you let his hand linger there, trying to let the uncomfortable feeling your stomach settle away. You’re not quite sure how to answer him, “Uhm, I think I’m okay with being out here. Meet new friends you know?” you tell him.

But Kyle is persistent. His hand starts to wander up to your waist, squeezing the sliver of bare skin softly with his cold hand. Your breath hitches and now you’re really not sure of what to do. You don’t want to be mean, this is your first interaction with someone outside of Nancy, Jonathan and Billy, but the unsettling feeling is gnawing at your stomach, and you can’t shake it. You look behind him and you suddenly see a familiar face stomping over. You feel relieved, almost happy.

“Hey Thompson, fuck off”

Kyle’s hand leaves your waist and his face turns into a scowl. He recognizes that voice before he even turns around to face him. “Fuck off Hargrove, can’t you see we’re having a conversation” he spits back. You quickly use this opportunity to walk towards Billy, standing beside him. You look up at him and unsettling feeling in your stomach suddenly disappears. Billy’s gaze is hard, leering down on the dark-haired boy. His burgundy button up is buttoned half way, revealing his sun-kissed skin as it shines in the light.

“A-actually, I’m gonna stick around with Billy” you tell Kyle. Billy takes this opportunity to lazily swing his arm around your shoulder, throwing a smirk at the now fuming boy. Kyle throws you a dirty look, taking a swig of his drink, “Whatever, fuck you” he mutters, walking right past you and into the crowd.

You let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders relaxing, “T-Thanks Billy I - “

“What the hell are you doing here?” he suddenly snaps at you.

You frown, turning your whole body to face him. “Nancy invited me. I’m allowed to go out Billy. I’m allowed to have fun”

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. He was going to try to have sex with you, did you know that?”

He’s angry. He’s angry that Nancy brought you here, angry that he’s been watching you this whole time, angry that Kyle Thompson had the audacity to touch you and not him, but most of all, he’s angry that he cares this much because you’re not his problem. He watches as your face twists into a confused expression, trying to process everything he’d just said. But you’re resilient, you stand strong against him.

“What if I wanted him to have sex with me?” you retort back. Quite frankly you’re not even sure what sex is, but you decide to fuck with him anyways.

His nostrils flare and the muscles in his jaw tenses. He knows that you can push his buttons and he fucking hates it.

And he hates that you look good doing it.

You both are silent, leering angrily into each others eyes, waiting for someone to speak.

“You’re supposed to be my friend Billy” you suddenly say, your voice almost cracks, your expression softening. But his doesn’t, he doesn’t dare show any ounce of emotions, especially during a party.

He swings the beer bottle to his mouth, chugging it down. He then shoves right past you without saying a word, trying to find Samantha, or Gina, or Tina, whatever the fuck her name was. You watch as he walks away, your heart beating wildly. You feel like you’re on the verge of tears but you’re not going to cry, because you don’t cry over stupid boys. Especially since you’ve literally murdered men with your bare hands.

You look at the drink in your hand and you chug it down, letting the fruity taste melt away your emotional boy wounds. You wipe the dribble with your hand and you walk over to the punch bowl, pouring yourself a full cup of pure fuel.

Fuck Billy. Fuck him and his stupid blond hair, and his stupid blue eyes, and especially his stupid face.

You watch him as a girl attaches herself to his arm, throwing him a sultry smile, her finger tracing his bare chest. He looks down at her, a similar smile on his face as he whispers something in her ear. You feel as if your chest is about to cave in, tears prick your eyes but you angrily wipe them away.

“Hey, Y/N, is everything okay?” you suddenly hear Jonathan’s voice behind you. Your legs have become wobbly, but you ignore it.

“Fuck Billy, fuck him” you slur out, resting against the counter for support.

“Whoa, okay, how many of these have you had?” he asks, taking the empty cup from your hand and placing it down.

Your head is pounding and the room is suddenly spinning. “I dunno, 3 maybe, I dunno, it was good, I had a lot, it was a lot Jonathan” you sputter out, closing your eyes and letting your head swing.

You hear Jonathan groan loudly, but you’re enjoying the way the alcohol is making you feel, lightweight, happy, giggly.

“Stay here, don’t move. I’m going to get Nancy”

You wave him off, continuing to bask in your own drunken world. You gaze up, staring at the ceiling, the lights are starting to multiply, as if you were stuck in a kaleidoscope. The loud bass of the music reverberates through your body, sending tingles down your spine. For once you’re not a 19-year old science project brought on by crazy scientists, you’re a normal teenage girl and you’ll be damned if Billy is going to ruin your first party.

You steady yourself on the counter, a look of determination sweeps over your face.

“Well, well if it isn’t Hargrove’s little girlfriend, looks like you’ve had too much fun”

You turn to face the voice, but due to your drunken state you can’t quite remember where you’ve seen him before. His arm is slung in a cast, and he has a devilish look on his face. You frown at his comment, “I - I’m not Billy’s girlfriend, he’s a fucking moron, fuck him, I hate him” you start to quickly vent.

“You know, you really did a number on my hand …” Tommy H. pauses, his eyes looking you up and down. “ … but I know how you can make it up.”

His hand is suddenly on your waist, slowly rubbing up and down. He thought you were cute that night at the diner, even with all your bruises, and now, you were looking extremely fuckable. He liked a woman with a fiery temper, hell he dated Carol for 2 years. You were drunk so he knew you’d be easy to coerce.

“Mmm, that feels nice” you murmur, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

Tommy H. gives you a sly grin, then he quickly drapes his arm around you, dragging you towards an empty bedroom. Your legs feel like they’re about to give out but Tommy hoists you up, “Shhh, this will be our little secret”

He opens a door with his free hand and walks in, not before poking his head out and making sure no one saw him. The light that cracked through your eyelids is suddenly replaced by darkness, “W-wha, what’s going on” you breath out, still leaning on Tommy for support.

He gently places you down on the bed and the room is suddenly spinning out of control. You open your eyes and panic starts to set in, but you’re too drunk to do anything.

To say that Billy wasn’t carefully keeping an eye on you after your little tiff was a lie. He was on his 7th beer, his hand was gripping some girls ass while she was harshly sucking on his neck. But his eyes would still wander back to you to make sure that you weren’t doing anything stupid. But god forbid he looks away for a minute and you’re suddenly gone. He sees Nancy and Jonathan standing around, frantically looking for you.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

He shoves the girl off of him and takes large strides towards the pair.

“Where is she?” he questions hotly.

“I - I don’t know, she was just here! I told her to stay here while I grabbed Nancy - wait, why do you care? Didn’t you just make her cry?” Jonathan accused the blond. Billy clenches his jaw, stung by Jonathan’s words but he decides to ignore the question and turns his gaze to Nancy.

“You should have never brought her here. She could get hurt, she doesn’t know any better!” he barks at her.

Nancy sneers, rolling her eyes, “Real fucking rich coming from you! I don’t know why she defended you today, I don’t know what she sees in you!”

Billy blinks, confused, “Defended me?”

“Ugh, not the point! Where is she?!” Jonathan quickly cuts their bicker short.

“Hey if you’re looking for that cute girl with the white skirt, Tommy H. took her into a bedroom, she’s super wasted” a voice behind them suddenly speaks. The trio turn to face the voice and are met with a short girl with a tight ponytail, munching quietly on a chip.

“Do you know which room?!” Nancy asks, her voice is frantic at this point.

The girl shrugs, “Beats me”

The three of them share a look.

Fuck.

Billy feels the color leave his face, and his stomach sinks to the ground. He quickly runs down the hall, Nancy and Jonathan following behind him and they all start opening the doors, looking for you, hoping that they’ll find you in time.

Your breathing is coming in as shallow pants. Your stomach is swirling around, you’d figure death would be heavenly at this point. You feel a large weight on your body as Tommy starts to crawl over you, a wicked smile on his face. His hot breath hits your face, it reeks of alcohol and cigarettes but you’re too disorientated to figure out what’s going on.

His hand starts to creep up your thigh, “You’re gonna be a good girl and make up for what you did” he whispers in your ear.

Your eyes suddenly widened, and your body freezes.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for papa and do what you’re told okay?”

Brenner’s hand slithers up to your cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb.

You were only 12 when you were given your first hit. They knew what you were capable of, they knew what you could do. You were their secret weapon and they were going to use and abuse you as much as they wanted.

“B-but papa … I don’t like hurting people … “ you protest, fiddling with your thumbs in your lap.

“These are bad people sweetheart, if you love your papa you’ll do it for me” he croons at you, giving you a smile. “You love your papa don’t you?”

You nod quickly, “Of course. You’re my only papa” you return the smile. He leans forward, placing a kiss on your forehead. He then grabs your hand and takes you down a dark hallway. You hear screaming, wails of pain coming from the doors. You gaze up at the man who you call father and he nods his head, stopping in front of the one of the many doors. He opens it, and you find a man cowering in the corner, sobbing hysterically. He screams at you in Russian, begging and pleading. Brenner walks in the dimly lit cell with you, he gently pets your hair.

“You know what to do”

He then turns on his heel and leaves, slamming the door shut. You turn your attention back to the man and your gaze is suddenly fixed on him. You clench your jaw, feeling the muscles tense up. He’s howling at this point, praying to whatever gods exist and on his knees.

With the flick of your head, he instantly catches on fire.

You ignore his screams as you look back to face Brenner through the tiny window on the door. He nods at you, a proud smile on his face as he opens the door, outstretching his hand to guide you back out. You turn to face the man whose skin has melted off at this point, he’s nothing but bones and ashes. Brenner crouches down, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Good girl”

“NO!”

You scream at the boy hovering over you. Tommy H. frowns, in his mind you’re too weak to fight back but the painful memory suddenly sobers you up. Your hands suddenly find itself attached to his shoulders, gripping tightly.

“I am not your little girl!” you scream at him, you feel your fingers digging into his shirt.

“Hey, hey, okay, OW!” Tommy H. tries to escape your tight grasp but you’re unaware of your own strength as you feel his shoulders snap under your grip.

Billy hears the screams, his feet suddenly lead him to the room that’s tucked away in the corner, but before he could even reach the room, Tommy H. comes flying through the door, slamming on the wall in the hallway. For some miraculous reason he’s still conscious, groaning loudly as he wipes away debris from his face.

Billy, Nancy and Jonathan rush into the room. They find you standing on top of the bed, your nose bleeding profusely, your eyes are bloodshot. Your hands are clenched by your side as you angrily stare Tommy H. down. A crowd starts to form around the chaos, but too many people are too drunk to realize that a girl with super-human powers has literally thrown an almost rapist through the door.

“Y/N ... “ Nancy whispers out. Their eyes are wide, in complete shock.

Your legs suddenly give out, and your vision becomes blurry. The last thing you see before you black out is Billy running towards you as you fall limp into his arms.

tagged list: @thefandomzoneisdangerous @jujurandy @littlebrownngirl @harduy @art-flirt @bish-ima-clown @lynnskata @snakelaufeyson @creativedogs @nightshade7117 @letsloveimagines @sorry-didnt-mean-to-stab-you @sighsophiia @blackravena @universefinds @jesus-jagiya @justatadbonkers @thedarkartsstuff @asheseiler @rad-lad-gone-mad @sophiajiyeon @sweetamren @frostygilbert @hufflepuff-writings @strangerchalamet @frenchzodiacgirl @sadgirlnumber92899 @all-american-fangirl @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @solfolgi @magnitude101999 @helena-way07 @skimpyharry @alicecooper19 @mikariell95 @heyhargrove @jyanasia @suoheiwajima @tegan-eva @xxshortclubxx @qtmeryr @colie87 @theshortmajesticsquirrel @silver-winter-wolf @synthsoup @thesleepykaijuu @seasiren96 @helen-of-troi

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

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noonachronicles · 5 years ago

Text

You, Me, and Satan Himself

Lee Jooheon X Reader

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: mild language. there are a couple of mentions of suicide/attempted suicide, not member or reader related. also mentions of child death, also not member or reader related. ummm I think that’s it.

Genre: bffs to lovers. idiots to lovers. alludes fwb but not LJH/Reader. It’s got some spooky themes, but ultimately it’s fluff.

A/N: It’s a Halloweeeeeen story! Ghosts and ghouls, firemen and pirates and of course Satan himself. ;D Happy Birthday @nemesyis! This one is for you. It’s not really an attack story, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Wind was howling through the naked branches of the trees that lined the path you were on. The brisk chill of the fall air made you shiver. Much to your chagrin the dress and tights combo of your costume was doing almost nothing to keep the cold from consuming you. Clicking of your black lolita heels against the pavement beneath you echoed down the avenue you were walking down. Luckily it was a full moon, which meant that the path was fully visible despite the lack of lights. It might have been romantic if you weren’t mentally preparing yourself to be spooked. Focusing in on the sound of every branch that cracked, every hoot of an owl, every flicker of movement in your peripherals was being noted and you were thrilled by the way it all made the blood tingle in your veins. The only thing putting you off was the chattering of your teeth. It was hard to focus on getting in the mood when you couldn’t stop thinking about how cold you were.

“I told you to bring a jacket.” Jooheon muttered beside you.

“A jacket doesn’t go with this costume.” you advised him for the hundredth time that night. “And the dress has sleeves...I thought it would be warmer.”

“Yeah well my costume doesn’t require a jacket either, so thanks for that.” he complained.

Stopping, you looked over at your very grumpy best friend. It was cute, his outfit. Plaid button down shirt tucked into brown cargo shorts. Round glasses sat on his nose. Pocket protector, complete with pens, sat against his chest. Tube socks pulled all the way up his calves and dirty sneakers on his feet. Every little detail made you smile, you’d done wonderfully putting it together for him, you knew there was even an inhaler in his pocket. He was the perfect Joel Glicker to your Wednesday Addams.

“Honey…” you said lifting your hand to his cheek as he pouted at you, “you look so cute. Thank you for being the best best friend a girl could ask for. I promise that next year I will have a boyfriend of my own and I’ll make him do couples costumes with me, and then you’ll never have to deal with it again.”

He sighed deeply and then gave a tight smile, you still caught a glimpse of his dimple, “It’s fine.”

Once the two of you got moving again you fell back into a comfortable silence, like the pair of you usually did. Instead of going back to your mood setting thoughts you considered Jooheon. He really was the greatest guy you knew. Growing up neighbors left him destined to be either your best friend or worst enemy and at different points in your life he’d been both.

From toddler to teen you were inseparable. Then at some point you couldn’t remember hormones tore you apart. That was when he met the boys. You could still remember how jealous you’d been that first summer watching them hanging out all the time, wishing it was still you he wanted to spend his time with. You’d tried making new friends but mostly became a recluse, playing video games all the time and reading libraries worth of books. In high school you got your first boyfriend, an athlete in the year ahead of you, and you dated for three years. On the first day of summer before your senior year he ditched you because he wanted to be single for university.

You never knew how he’d heard about the break up, you never asked, but the very next day when you had convinced yourself you were never leaving your blanket burrito ever again Jooheon showed up. The moment he walked into your room, after your mom had let him in the house, it was like there had never even been a second that you were apart. He spent every single day with you that summer. Even if he’d had plans with the boys, he always dragged you along. You barely spent a second alone and by the time senior year started you had practically forgotten you’d ever had a boyfriend in the first place. From then on you were back to inseparable even now as adults.

“I hate this.” he grumbled beside you.

The shrubbery along the path was thickening and it was getting darker the further you moved along. You reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing your fingers around his.

“Don’t worry so much. I’ll protect you, I swear.” you smiled over at him. “We’re almost there.”

There was the sound of another snapping branch from the trees and you could feel his body vibrate in fear, “We’re going to die, I hope you know. This is the worst night of my whole life because I’m going to die...dressed like a nerd.”

“Thank you.” you said again.

“For what? Dying with you on this cold, dark, abandoned path to some haunted house in the middle of nowhere?”

“Kind of,” you laughed quietly, “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I know you would have much preferred to stay at the party picking up chicks. Instead you came with me and that means a lot.”

“Oh,” he seemed to ease at your words and even puffed out his chest slightly, “It’s cool. Honestly, no big deal at all. I didn’t want to be at that party if you weren’t going to be there anyway. And yes, this may be a weird, creepy idea that I hate more than anything, but you know I’d do anything for you.”

You squeezed his hand again and smiled, “I love you, Honey.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled all the same, “I love you too.”

“We’re so close, the house is right up here, just around that curve.” you couldn’t help your excitement and you moved faster down the path.

As you had nearly reached the end of the path, the abandoned house in your sight, you could see a large dark mass speeding towards you, but you didn’t process it fast enough. Not until the cloaked figure was already rawring loudly into your face. Jumping back you clutched your chest, heart racing. Seconds passed and you finally registered Changkyun’s laughter, and your eyes adjusted enough to see his devilish face clearly. Jooheon was long gone, having sprinted back down the path quite a ways, he was still shrieking.

“That’s so fucked, Kyun.” you let out a large breath.

Devil horns atop his head, he held up his finger, an evil grin on his lips, “Just wait, it gets better.”

By then Jooheon’s screams had petered down. When you looked down the path to the silhouette of his figure you could see he was making his way, slowly, back to you. He was still several yards away when you saw the two new dark figures creeping out of the brush behind him. It was very clear he hadn’t noticed their presence yet.

“No, my poor Honey.” you mumbled, “Minhyuk?”

“And Hyungwon.” Changkyun snickered beside you.

After just a moment more of silence you could hear their collective “Boo!” as they lunged towards Jooheon. The sound of his screaming and cursing echoed through the night as he sprinted full speed back to you.

“Assholes!” he shouted, “All my friends are assholes!”

He clung to you as he panted, catching his breath and you gently patted his back, “You’re not wrong about that.”

“I knew it was going to be good,” Minhyuk said still laughing as he and Hyungwon made it to the group, “but that was so much better than I ever expected.”

After finishing rolling your eyes you saw a flicker of light bouncing its way out of the front of the building.

“Shownu!” you called out cheerfully as you recognized the man behind the flashlight in his fireman costume. He gave a small wave as he made his way over. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Kihyun and Hoseok met some people at the party.” He shrugged as he moved out of the hug he’d given you. “Hoseok said to say sorry. Kihyun said to tell you he was not sorry and that if you couldn’t understand you weren’t really friends.”

You laughed, knowing that it was likely that’s exactly what he said. “Wait so you just went in all by yourself?”

“Yeah, no one was here when I got here so I went in and took a look around. Not very exciting as far as haunted houses go. I didn’t find any workers. There’s no smoke machines or creepy music.” he said sounding very unimpressed.

“Nunu…” you shook your head, “Oh sweet man, it’s not a haunted house, it’s just creepy and abandoned.”

“Ohh.” he nodded in understanding, “That makes more sense.”

Jooheon quickly went from clinging to you to clinging to the pillar of muscle and fearlessness that was Shownu. “Full offense to everyone else here, who sucks, but dibs on Nu as my partner.”

“Dibs on y/n.” Minhyuk said throwing his arm over your shoulder, “Unintentionally wearing couples costumes and everything.”

You looked him up and down in confusion, “Min, you’re a pirate. How are we at all a couples costume?”

“You see, after tonight, when you’re wowed by my courage, strength, and overall ability to protect you, you won’t be able to resist me.” you did your best to hold back a snort, “After that, we will be a couple and then no matter what our outfits are they will always be couples outfits. ...because, you know, we’ll be a couple.”

“I think I got it.” you laughed.

As he’d been talking everyone, with the exception of Minhyuk himself, watched as Hyungwon slipped silently behind the brazen pirate. In a swift motion he reached out, grabbing his hips, with a quick boo! Minhyuk jumped about a foot in the air, his pirate hat was thrown off his head and his shrill shriek pierced the cold air.

“Yeah...good luck in there, y/n.” Hyungwon said shooting you a wink.

“She’s a goner for sure.” Changkyun smirked.

“Alright, alright.” you said anxiously, “Let’s do this. I don’t want to be standing out here until the sun comes up.”

Pushing through the group you made your way to the dark house. The pirate and the devil followed closely behind, the others with slightly less enthusiasm. Once you hit the porch steps of the old colonial house you pulled your flashlight from the pocket of your dress. One of the double doors had been broken or removed and was leaning against the door frame. It wasn’t really breaking and entering, you thought to yourself, just entering really.

You ducked through the open door to avoid the giant cobweb in the corner. Inside the house was covered in a thick layer of dirt and dust. Dead leaves scattered across the floor as far as your eyes could see and you wondered just how long the front door had been down. Rebellious teenagers had left graffiti a top the peeling wallpaper. There were giant holes all along the walls and you were sure there wasn’t a foot of copper wiring left in the old bones of the home.

The foyer was huge and as the beam of your flashlight moved over it you could just imagine how beautiful it had been in its youth. There was a staircase to the second floor to the left of the room. Beyond it were two hallways leading off in opposite directions. You looked over at the giant landing at the base of the staircase and nodded to yourself.

“Changkyun,” you said and flashed your light over at the area, “how about here?”

He nodded in agreement, “Perfect.”

He handed you candle after candle from a brown satchel at his side to light and place around the area. When the fireman, Glicker, and Hyungwon as the ghoul all made it inside the whole group of you got comfortable, or as comfortable as you could, on the landing of the staircase. The devil stayed standing, his red cloak swooped around his legs and the light from the candles lit up his face dramatically as he prepared to tell the group about the history of the home. The shadow of his horns illuminated against the wall behind him.

“The year,” Changkyun began, “was eighteen oh six. Doctor Leonardo Fitz had just wed the love of his life, Maria Vanderson. As a grand gesture of his love for her he had this house built just for her and what was meant to be their large, happy family. However, after many years had passed the halls of the home remained without the laughter of children. It seemed that the couple was not fated for the family they had dreamed of. Maria was devastated and heartbroken, believing herself to be at fault for their misfortune. Unable to take the guilt of it all she attempted to drown herself in the couple's claw footed bathtub, that remains upstairs to this very day.”

Jooheon let out a hiss of a breath and burrowed closer to you.

“Maria Vanderson was unsuccessful at her death, found too quickly by the house maid and dragged from the water. Though when she woke her husband feared the damage had already been done. His wife had become delusional. Nightmares haunted her sleep and visions attacked her in the light of day. To anyone who would give her a minute of their time she babbled on about what had happened in her time in the great beyond. She spoke of a man that had come to her just before the light took her for good.

The man with eyes as black as the darkest night sky pressed the palm of his clawed hand against her flat stomach. Locking his dark stare with her fearful one he whispered, ‘my son’. A little over a month after the incident occurred they found out that Maria was pregnant. The doctor, desperate for an excuse for his wives apparent insanity, blamed her delusions on the pregnancy hormones. Nine months to the very day of her attempted suicide, Maria gave birth.”

“Nooooo.” Minhyuk gasped. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at the look of absolute horrified realization on his face.

“What?” Jooheon asked with morbid curiosity, even as he wrapped himself even tighter around you.

Minhyuk looked over at him with raised eyebrows and mouthed, “It’s the devils baby!”

Changkyun sighed in annoyance. “Well if Minhyuk is just going to spoil everything what’s the point of even going on with the story.”

“Oh, Kyunnie, please!” You pouted cutely, “It’s so good and you worked so hard on all that research.”

“I did.” He nodded smugly, “I researched the entire history of this home… So I will continue, but everyone better keep their theories to themselves.”

“Sorry,” Minhyuk said as he coward at the pointed look from his junior.

“What had been more shocking than the timing of Maria’s labor,” he started once more, “was that she gave birth to twin boys. One with flaxen hair like his father, the others black as a raven’s feather.”

Minhyuk let out another dramatic gasp but quickly slammed his hand over his mouth.

Changkyun continued, “Both boys grew up portraits of health and seemingly as normal as any other child might. The only difference between them besides the color of their hair was that Damian, the raven haired child, had been fussier than his brother Gabriel. He required much more attention but only that from his mother was able to comfort him. As they aged the changes and differences between them became more and more clear. Gabriel was a playful, independant boy that enjoyed spending his time outside in the sun. He liked to run around the giant yard, swinging on the swing set, and climbing trees. He liked to be dirty and to laugh.

Damien did not enjoy those things. He was quiet, an observer of the things around him. Even though he was just a boy he still knew things about the people in the home, their secrets. He preferred to do whatever his mother was doing, always at her side. She called him her little shadow and adored him with every ounce of her being. The doctor did not feel the same way about the boy. He felt he could see a darkness in the child and was watching it grow every day. It terrified the doctor to see how he manipulated Maria and the others in the house into loving him.

One afternoon Maria had been getting ready for a gala she was to attend with the doctor. She’d been in front of her vanity doing her makeup. The boys had been running up and down the hallway and in the playroom quite loudly. After some time had passed she realized the house had grown silent.”

“I don’t like it,” Jooheon whispered just to you, and pressed his face into your shoulder. You squeezed his hand comfortingly and listened to Changkyun go on.

“When she stepped from the bedroom into the hallway the only thing she could see was Damien at the top of the stairs holding a wooden toy airplane at his side. As she moved closer to her son she could see the mortifying view at the bottom of the stairs. Her fair haired boy laid mangled across the bottom step, blood oozing around him. She wrapped Damien in her arms, pressing his face to her chest to protect him from the sight. The help claimed they could her screams for hours after, just echoing up and down the halls. Maybe we’ll even hear them tonight.”

“Wait...these stairs?!” Hyungwon asked in a panic, shooting up from the bottom step he’d been sitting on. He cleared his throat and said a little more casually, “I mean ...these stairs?”

“One and the same.” Changkyun confirmed.

“What...that’s it?” Shownu asked high key unimpressed. You watched as Hyungwon slowly made his way from the staircase to the opposite side of the circle, otherwise unnoticed.

“Worry not, the story doesn’t end there.”

“Oh god damn it.” Jooheon groaned beside you.

“Alright, everyone, settle down and focus.” Changkyun waited for everyone’s attention before going on with the story. “Doctor Leo knew right away what had happened to his son and was furious. He wanted to get rid of the evil boy. However, Maria loved her son and she refused to believe the ravings of a madman. One day while she’d been out the doctor had even brought a priest into the home to try and exorcise the boy. Maria was enraged when she arrived home. Unable to handle the pained cries of the only child she had left, she tore the restraints from his body and banned the clergy from her home.

A decade had passed and the doctor’s fear and anger had torn him and Maria apart. They stayed on opposite sides of the home. She refused to speak to him because every time she did he would just say some hurtful things to her about Damien. The doctor began to drink heavily, he was falling apart having lost his son and then his wife.

On his fifteenth birthday, what would have been Gabriels as well, Maria took her son into the city for lunch and then to the zoo. When they arrived back home they found the doctor had ended his own life. Unable to handle the evil consuming the home any longer. His limp, lifeless body was found hanging from the railing, just there,” Changkyun pointed up to the railing of the second floor that was broken, leaving dangerous open gaps, “He’d made a noose out of bed sheets.”

“Two down, one to go.” Hyungwon joked, though he eyed the railing warily

“He won’t kill the mom.” Shownu argued. Both Minhyuk and Jooheon shuddered at the thought.

You sighed, “Come on, guys. He’s almost to the best part.”

“Which is?” Shownu asked.

“The end.” Jooheon grumbled.

“The best part is when he finally gets to the reason we’re really here.” you corrected.

“Just get it over with then.” Minhyuk whined, pulling his knees to his chest.

“For three years following the death of the doctor, mother and son lived here quite harmoniously. The only complaints to be had were from the help. Maids and gardeners often complaining about the property being overrun by creatures that always ended up dead. In the home and around it they found rats, cats, birds, foxes, rabbits, and snakes. As if they’d come to the house for the sole purpose of dying.

One afternoon, not long after Damien’s eighteenth birthday, Maria was just coming home from a short trip to the city. Out on the lawn, she found the old gardener facedown on the ground, dead. When she ran inside the maid and the cook where both here in the foyer. Deep gashes like those from the claws of an animal covered their bodies. Blood was seeping from their wounds. She could see, dug into the wood flooring, were marks left by the cooks nails as she’d been dragged down the hall. Terrified for her son’s life, Maria searched the whole house for Damien. She found the door of the study, the last place she’d checked, slightly ajar. She peered inside and what she saw made her sick with fear.

Her son was standing in the center of the room with his eyes closed and naked as the day he was born. Behind him the fireplace was burning and she watched with wide eyes as a horned beast stepped out from the flames half man, half animal. Ten feet tall it had hoven feet and eyes as black as the darkest night. In his clawed hands he held a gold chalice. He spoke in a language she could not understand and from the chalice poured what seemed like an endless stream of dark red blood on top of her son’s head.

In a voice she’d heard before the beast whispered, my son.

Damien’s eyes opened under the shower of blood, and she gasped when she saw they were as black as his fathers. The door swung open, exposing her. The last thing she saw was the sick twisted smile of her demon son as his father came for her.

Some people say you can hear the sound of hoven feet against the hardwood floor, the pained screams of Maria, the giggles of young Gabriel, and warnings from the doctor himself, whispered against your ear, begging you to leave this damned home.”

“I’ve seen the fireplace in the study. It’s huge. The devil coming out of it,” Shownu shrugged, “that’s actually pretty believable.”

“The devil!” Jooheon whined, “That’s so much worse than just a regular ghost story! I hate this, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Who is going to explain why we’re here?” Shownu asked, “I thought that would be made clear.”

“We’re here to find the chalice.” Changkyun answered. “Somewhere in this haunted old house is the devil's cup. We will go in our pairs and search until it’s found or the sun has risen.”

“What do we get if we find it?” Hyungwon asked intrigued.

“Pride, honor, a golden chalice to drink all of your future drinks out of.” you said as if the answer were obvious. “Also, the winning team gets breakfast paid for by the losers.”

“Yeah, we’re winning. Let’s go.” With that Shownu grabbed Jooheon by the wrist and dragged him down the hall to the left.

“Game on.” Changkyun said with a wicked laugh before running upstairs with Hyungwon hot on his devils tail.

The house was much scarier than you expected it to be. It might not have been that bad if it weren’t for the fact that Minhyuk was trembling with fear everywhere the two of you went. You’d searched the kitchen and the dining room together. The pair of you clung desperately to each other with every step you took down in the basement. You were sure if the chalice had been down there you’d missed it. The only thing you were focused on while you were down there was getting back upstairs and Minhyuk had been much worse off than you. He made you search the study by yourself while he stood by the door holding a shaking flashlight in your general direction. The pair of you passed by Shownu and Jooheon on the way to the sitting room and the sun room on the opposite side of the house.

Once you were sure you’d been to every room downstairs you went upstairs. In the children’s room, instead of the chalice you found a dust covered, wooden toy airplane. When you showed it to Minhyuk he screamed and for several minutes you were certain he was going to cry. Then, walking across the hall from one bedroom to another, a toy ball rolled passed your feet and Minhyuk swore he heard a child’s laughter. Though the whole situation made your chest tight with fright, part of you was also sure that Changkyun had something to do with it. Especially since you hadn’t seen him or Hyungwon the entire time you’d been upstairs.

The two of you were headed to the master bedroom next. Minhyuk was a few feet in front of you. He passed by an open bedroom door without a second thought but a quiet whistling from the room caught your attention. You’d looked everywhere in the small room, and were standing nervously in front of the closet when Minhyuk called your name from down the hall. You turned to call back to him but when you opened your mouth a hand slammed down against your lips. Screaming into the hand, you were dragged backwards into the closet and the door closed in front of you.

“God, Y/n, stop screaming.” Changkyun whispered against your ear and spun you around.

“What the hell, you scared the fuck out of me.” you hissed as your eyes started to adjust to the darkness.

“All of the fuck?” he grinned, “Not even a little fuck left for me?”

“Apologize,” you whispered, sliding your hand from his chest to his hip, “maybe then I can find a fuck for you.”

He leaned in and dragged the tip of his nose from your throat to the base of your ear and whispered back, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

You hummed in pleasure, “Oh, look, I think I found one.”

“Mm, that’s good.” he said before leaving kisses along your neck, pulling the soft skin between his teeth until you were groaning. You squirmed beneath his hands as they pinned your hips against the wall.

“Kiss me for real.” you whined. He lifted his face to yours and let you pull his lips between yours. You kissed him for a full minute before you realized he wasn’t kissing back. “What? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you kissing me?”

He cupped your face in his hands with a smile, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay, then kiss me.”

He leaned in again, this time pressing his lips against yours in a true kiss. His tongue slipped between your teeth and you pulled his hips closer, practically slamming them into yours. He kept you pressed against the old, dirty wall of the bedroom closet until your lips were sore and swollen and you weren’t sure which tongue was his and which was yours. When he finally pulled away, he kept his eyes on you for a moment as you caught your breath.

Then he pressed a sweet kiss against your forehead and smiled, “We had fun right?”

“What? Why did you say it like that? Had?” you asked confused.

“That was our last kiss, kiddo.” he said as if it was just any ordinary conversation.

“What?”

“Jooheon is going to ask you out later.”

“What?”

He chuckled, “You should say yes. He likes you, is in love with you, likes you.”

“What?”

He grabbed your face in his palms, “Please stop saying what.”

“Um,” you looked at him trying to process but not being able to, “What?”

“Jooheon, you remember him?” he asked. You nodded, “He’s in love with you. He’s going to ask you out on a date. A real date, not just you two being besties like you’ve always been. I really think you need to say yes. I think you want to say yes. He really wants to be with you and you deserve that.”

“So...what does that mean, you don’t” you asked feeling a little hurt.

“Oh baby girl, I don’t want to be with anyone. I’m just having fun and we did that, right? You had fun?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He frowned seeing how upset you were, “You want more than secret rendezvous every once in awhile. I’m not totally clueless. I know you’ve been wanting more from me for awhile now.”

“I guess I was the clueless one.” you sighed.

“No” he said, “what I do just isn’t for everyone. You deserve more. You deserve real dates where you go out to dinner and then get ice cream after. You deserve sleepovers that end in you falling asleep together on the couch while the movie is still running. You deserve someone that’s going to drag you around everywhere and tell anyone who’ll listen that you’re his girl, because nothing makes him more proud than being with you.”

A small smile found its way to your lips, “Honey.”

“Exactly.” Changkyun smiled.

“You really think he loves me? I mean, I know he loves me like a best friend but…”

“He would not be trembling his way through this dark abandoned home on Halloween night, if it wasn’t for you. He would do anything for you and he’d do it because he loves you. Loves you loves you.” He shook his head as if amused, “You love him back, you know. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for that delicate little man.”

“What if it’s not supposed to be like that. What if it ruins our friendship?” you bit your lip.

“You would never let that happen, either of you.” Changkyun said with certainty, “You’ll never let him out of your life, and he’ll never let you out of his. Even if things go horribly wrong, which I guarantee they won't, you two are going to have each other forever.”

~~~

It wasn’t totally clear how long you’d been in that closet with Changkyun but you knew it had probably been too long. Minhyuk was nowhere to be found upstairs and you immediately felt horrible having left him alone for so long. You had run into Hyungwon who asked if you’d seen Changkyun and you gave a vague response about him maybe being in the master bedroom before heading downstairs again.

Your flashlight had gone dead just before you’d run into Hyungwon, so you were pretty desperate to find your partner. The way down the stairs was slow going as you cautiously felt for each step before moving forward. Midway down the light from a flashlight hit you in the face. You squinted, unable to see who was coming up the stairs.

“Hey!” Jooheon grabbed your arms looking panicked, “Where were you?”

“I was just searching upstairs. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You asked concerned.

He dropped his hands to his sides with relief, “We ran into Minhyuk, he said he lost you. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I was so worried. Where’s your flashlight?”

“Oh...it died. You were worried about me? You searched a dark abandoned house for me all by yourself?” You grinned.

“Well...yeah. I just, I didn’t want you to be alone or get hurt or something.”

I wasn’t,” you paused, he didn’t need to know you weren’t exactly alone, “I was okay. Thank you for coming to find me though.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of footsteps on the stairs and nodded at Changkyun as he passed the two of you, Hyungwon following close behind. You watched him all the way down the stairs and into the dinning room before looking back at Jooheon. He looked from you to where Changkyun has disappeared and then back again.

“You were alone, right?” He asked quietly.

“Mostly…”

He bit his lip nervously as he looked up at you, “Do you want to be with him?”

“Be with who?” You gulped.

“Kyun. Are you into him?”

A small smile spread across your lips, “No, actually I think I might be into someone else.”

“Oh.” His shoulder fell with disappointment. “You never told me about anyone new. Usually you tell me that kind of stuff.”

“He’s not really new. I’ve known him for awhile.”

Jooheon’s face creased in confusion, “Who do you know that I don’t know?”

“I never said you didn’t.” You laughed.

“Someone we both know and it’s not Changkyun?” He asked. You could see the gears turning in his mind. “Oh god. Please tell me it’s not Minhyuk.”

“I found it!” Hyungwon screamed, running into the foyer holding the golden chalice high above his head. “We win!”

“Noooooo!” You could hear Minhyuk whining before you saw him tear into the foyer from the opposite hall. “Where?!”

“Kitchen.” Changkyun was leaning against a post, you hadn’t even seen him stroll in after Hyungwon.

“We looked there!” Minhyuk spun around the room with his flashlight until he spotted you under the beam of light, “Didn’t we look there, y/n?”

You blocked the light from your eyes with your hand, “Yes, Min.”

“Well not good enough. Haaaaah!” Hyungwon laughed as Minhyuk chased after him through the foyer, grabbing for the chalice.

“Hey!” Shownu shouted from the balcony, the light from his phone illuminating his face, “Kihyun and Hoseok are already at the diner for breakfast. They want us to meet them there.”

Finally gathered together once more the whole group took off together, back down the avenue of trees. Dawn was coming and what once was pitch black was now a muted gray. Everything looked a little different in the soft light. You turned around and looked back at the old house, it didn’t look very threatening at all.

Changkyun had thrown his arm over your shoulder, in what you knew was now simply the action of a good friend. Though Jooheon didn’t and he pouted as he walked with Shownu behind the two of you. With a yawn you wondered how Minhyuk had the energy to chase Hyungwon down the sidewalk, still desperate for the golden chalice.

Hoseok and Kihyun met the group outside of the twenty-four hour diner looking a little worse for the wear. Hoseok was half asleep and stumbling drunk as you made your way inside. The group packed into two red vinyl booths.

Jooheon looked up from his plastic covered menu at you in surprise as you slipped into the booth next to him. “Wouldn’t you rather sit with your boyfriend?”

“Who? Changkyun?” You asked, pulling the menu between the two of you so you could read it too. “I thought we cleared that up. I like someone else.”

“Yeah but you never said who. Are you going to tell me?”

You opened your mouth to say something and he watched you wide eyed with anticipation. However the waitress had arrived for drink orders, giving you a second chance to avoid the question. It wasn’t that you weren’t going to tell him, just that you enjoyed the frustrated look on his face, it was too cute to resist.

When the waitress left to get the drinks, instead of telling him what he wanted to know, you engaged with Kihyun who was sitting across from you in a very serious discussion about what to order. You couldn’t decide between dinner and breakfast. In the end you did what you always did. Jooheon would get breakfast and you would get dinner and then you’d split your meals.

“Did you have fun at least?” You asked Jooheon as the waitress came around with your food. “It wasn’t that bad was it?”

“No, not as bad as I expected.” He sighed as he separated his meal into two. “It was fun. I scared Hyungwon once, did I tell you?”

“No! You didn’t!” Laughing at the thought, you put half of your cheeseburger on his plate. “I’m so happy you had fun, Honey.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t win.” He said quietly

You grinned, “Oh it’s okay. Maybe next year.”

“Next year?!” He asked in an instant panic.

“Yeah. It’ll be better. We’ll just make sure we get to be partners next time.”

“You’d want to be partners with me?” He asked genuinely surprised, “I thought you were going to have a boyfriend by next year. Whoever this secret guy is that you like probably likes you back. If you’re dating then he’ll want to be your partner and I’ll get stuck with someone else.”

“Well, do you?” You asked grabbing a piece of bacon from his plate.

“Do I what?”

You looked across the table where Hoseok and Kihyun had passed out on one another, their food left almost completely untouched except for a french fry hanging from Kyihuns mouth.

“Do you like me back?” You asked.

“Yeah of course I like you back I-“ his eyes went wide when he realized that you meant. “Me? I’m the guy you’re into?”

“The one and only.” You were sure you’d never seen his dimple get so deep he was smiling so big.

“I want to kiss you.” He said, eyes sparkling.

“Wait, there’s something I want to tell you first.” You felt nervous, but telling him about Changkyun seemed like the right thing to do. If you were really starting this you wanted to start it the right way. “Kyun and I were…”

“I know.” His smile dropped slightly but he shrugged, “I’ve known for awhile, you guys were pretty obvious.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked grabbing his hand beneath the table subconsciously.

“I wanted you to want to tell me. I wanted you to be happy. It was hard being around you two, poorly hiding flirtatious looks.”

“I’m so dumb. I’m so sorry.” You whispered as you thought back at the last few months realizing Jooheon had almost never spent time with you and Changkyun together.

“Kyun figured it out. He asked me the other night and I told him the truth. That I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows shot up but you weren’t sure you were entirely surprised. “Honey…”

“Kyun told me to ask you out, he said you were… that you might… maybe...possibly.”

“I’m in love with you too.” You laughed, ending his small suffering of trying to avoid asking you if you loved him back. “I think I was in some denial but Kyun showed me the light.”

“He did?” Jooheon seemed genuinely shocked when you nodded, “well what do you know, Satan himself thinks we should be together.”

“Who are we to deny him?” With a small smile you leaned over and pressed a kiss against his dimpled cheek.

He covered his face with his hand shyly. “Aish, not in front of everyone!”

You laughed at the cute way he blushed, “You’re the one who wanted to kiss me!”

“Still do...” he grinned and lifted his hand to the back of your neck pulling you in for a sweet first kiss.

#jooheon scenarios #Monsta x scenario #Kpop scenario #no smut so... we'll see if anyone reads it fr? lol #maybe next time Honeybun #Happy Birthday Nem!

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skiesoftwilight · 5 years ago

Text

Stay You (Jason Todd)

This one was super fun to write, despite me changing my whole plot for it last minute. I thought I was going to turn it into a fluff piece with a little angst, but I did the complete opposite, (at least I tried to lol). I hope you all enjoy!

Requested by: @randomdcfangirl

Prompt Inspiration (#21 - “I’m trying to be everything you want me to be.”)

Word Count: 2090

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“Jason?” His name fell from your lips the moment your eyes spotted him through the darkness in your living room; lying on his back, barely moving. Anger and annoyance were clearly shown through your narrowed gaze and scrunched nose, yet there was a rising feeling of worry in your tired eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Your boisterous voice bounced off the walls and rang loudly in Jason’s ears. His blue eyes slowly fluttered open to stare up at the ceiling; the small amount of moonlight in his eyes made him squint and groan with displeasure. His head lazily fell to the side where he heard your voice, through his squinted gaze, he saw you standing there, using your metal bat as a cane with a look of pure anger and disappointment clear on your face.

“I know you told me...not to come here...anymore… but I…” His eyes squeezed shut, his chest struggling to rise and fill with air. His gloved hands frantically rose to his throat, clawing at the bruised skin as a strangled gasp of air left his busted lips. Slowly, his whole body relaxed and his eyes opened again to look at you. He began to speak again, but in a much hushed and raspier tone, “I didn’t know...what to do...or where to go...I panicked…”

Making your way to the lamp near the couch, you turned the nob and let its warm light fill the room. A sharp gasp fell from your lips as you saw Jason’s battered body more clearly. Tossing the bat on the couch, you made your way to him and knelt beside him. A growing puddle of rich crimson blood seeped into your carpet. All the exposed parts of his skin were littered with cuts and blooming violet bruises that seemed to grow darker by the minute.

“Goddamnit Jason…” A shaky hand ran through your disheveled hair as panic began to bubble in your stomach. Your soft fingertips gently tilted his head to one side to fully assess the damage that had been dealt to him. He looked like he was on death’s doorstep, leaning against his door, begging to be let inside. “What did you get yourself into?”

Jason opened his mouth to answer, but another strangled gasp of air was the only sound he could produce. Your hand snaked under his neck and slowly lifted his upper body off the ground, but Jason struggled to let out a pained scream, opting to grab your forearm and squeeze tightly as you gently laid him back on the ground.

“I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know…” You shook your head, removing your hands from his body and resting them him your lap. Looking down at your hands, a little of his blood covered your fingertips and it made you uneasy. Wiping his blood on your T-shirt, you started racking your brain on what you could do for him. “Don’t talk, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Running to your bedroom, you pulled the comforter off your bed and dragged it back to Jason who was trying to prop himself on his forearms. Bringing the thick blanket down beside him, you knelt beside him once more, your hands gently wrapping around his arms, “I have to get you to the bed, okay? This is the only way I can think of that will cause you less pain.”

Jason’s dull blue eyes looked at the blanket and then your worried expression, “No...just help me...help me stand…” He shook your hands off his arms and reached for your hand and took it in his, squeezing as he slowly got onto all fours before using your hands to stand up, not without letting out stifled groans and grunts. Leaning his body against yours, his lips were close to your ear, “just walk slowly…”

Nodding your head, you began to make your way to your bedroom with Jason’s body weighing down your side. When you finally made it to the bed, you let him crawl up on the bed and settle down in the spot that used to be his own. Seeing him laying there...broken...it brought up memories that you didn’t want to see.

“Alright, let me get the supplies.” You rested a hand on his forearm, looking at him with soft eyes and a shaky smile. Running to your bathroom and rummaging through your medicine cabinet, you dumped pill bottles and medical supplies into your basket before returning to Jason’s side.

Pulling the scissors out of the basket, you started to cut his shirt down the middle. He hissed in pain at the blood-soaked fabric resting on his bruised chest. Peeling away the fabric revealed both sides of his ribs were deep purple and littered with mini cuts. Tears began to well in your eyes as you watched his chest continue to take rise and fall in shallow breaths.

“Jason, your ribs…” You looked up at him to see his hooded gazing staring at you. With your mouth opening just slightly, small noises fell from your lips before you got an actual sentence to form, “They’re broken. They’ve got to be...seriously, what the hell were you doing that got you into this much trouble?”

“An ambush…” He mumbled softly, looking at your face before turning to look at the ceiling, “I’ll tell you more...when I get better…”

“That’s a big if…” You mumbled, turning away from his face. His hand lightly tapped the top of yours, causing you to look at his wide eyes, “Sorry…”

Not wasting any time, you got to work cleaning the dried blood on his skin, trying to find the source among all the bruising. Jason winced and whimpered with every soft graze of your fingers against his skin, but it hurt you more to hear him make those sounds. You didn’t want to cause him any further pain, but you knew you had to in order to make him better.

The air in the room was tense. Both of you were trying to find the words to say to each other, but they always got caught in your throat, and the only sounds that would leave your lips were soft hums or incoherent mumblings. There was an obvious heavy elephant in the room, you two just couldn’t find a way to address it.

“I’m almost done, okay?” Your voice was soft. Dropping the bloodied cloths on the floor beside the bed, you began to stitch up the large cut across his chest adequately, paying little mind to slight urgency. “Just stay awake for me, can you at least do that?”

Jason softly hummed in response, opening his eyes to watch your hands pierce his skin over and over again with the needle. He took note of how your hands were shaking and how you brought your forearm up to your eyes to dab away the stray tears that fell silently.

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking your head, you cast him a brief glance before returning your gaze to the wound on his chest, “You got a lot to be sorry for, are you doing a collective or individual apology for all the shit you’ve put me through?”

“(Y/N)...” His voice was soft, barely audible when he reached up and grabbed your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. You stopped stitching, but you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I thought I made myself clear weeks ago…” Your voice was stern, yet the consistent stream of tears gave away what you were truly feeling, “I won’t do this anymore. I can’t.”

A shallow sigh left Jason’s lips as watched you look at the bruises across his body, “I really didn’t want to come here, but I…” He paused, thinking on what to say that would warrant a reasonable explaination for putting you through all this pain, but he couldn’t find one. “I panicked because I thought this was the end. I...I didn’t want to go without seeing you one last time. It was...foolish and cruel…”

“Jason…”

“I’m trying to be everything you want me to be.” His voice rose above a soft whisper, his hands squeezing your wrists lightly, trying to get you to look at him. “I know it doesn’t seem like it but I am.”

You turned to look at him, anger making your throat tight and sadness blurring your vision, “Well, it looks like you need to try a helluva lot harder, because this,” You pulled your hand from his gras and gestured to his battered body on the bed, “This isn’t improvement, this is worse than before. Way worse.”

“I took a step back from fighting crime, I did…” Jason tried to adjust himself on the bed, but the pain still lingered, causing him to just settle back where he was, “But I just couldn’t let it go. It’s like telling an addict to cut cold turkey with the presense of drugs all around them. I couldn’t do it.”

“I don’t want you to change who you are, Jason. I never did,” You stated, wiping a tear from your cheek before hesitantly reaching for his hand, “It was what all the fighting and what it did to you that put a strain on me...on us.”

“I know, and I never wanted to drag you into my messes, but I got carried away with using your kindness. I took it for granited and I regret it.” Jason confessed, looking at you with his sullen gaze. “I’ll never get angry at you for what you said to me all those weeks ago…”

A heavy sigh left your lips while you dabbed the tears away from your eyes. Your gaze took in his own before looking over his body one last time before you picked up the needle and continued to stitch him up. “Let me just finish this…”

After you finished his stitches, you began to clean up the bloodied cloths and sheets, tossing them in a basket that you had designated for these kinds of messes. Jason watched you quickly move about the room, but the adrenaline was wearing off and he was beginning to feel the full effects of his injuries. You brought him back icepacks and rested them on his sides wrapped in towels to ease the coolness.

“I don’t see you leaving tonight, if that was your plan,” You spoke, changing your shirt for one that didn’t have blood on it, “If you want, you can rest here for the night and the best I can do is call Alfred to get you tomorrow.”

“I think it’s best if Alfred doesn’t know, then Bruce will know…” Jason explained, watching you approach his side of the bed once more, “I’ll figure it out early tomorrow, I just don’t want to be a burden more than I already am…”

“Will you just be quiet?” You turned to him, giving him a look that held a glint of mirth, “Stop talking and get some rest, you’ll definitely need your strength for tomorrow.” Watching him crack a small smile you fixed his pillow before backing away, you moved to your side of the bed to crawl under the covers.

“You don’t have to watch over me, I’ll be fine,” Jason told you, extending his hand to your spot on the bed, “I look a little worse than I feel.”

A dry laugh fell from your lips, “Sleeping beside you will put my mind at ease; plus, this is my bed and I usually sleep here.”

Jason’s smile grew as he moved his hand and rested it at his side. Looking at him lying stiff as a board, you reached over and grabbed his hand and ran your thumb over it softly, looking at him as he looked at you. Hesitantly, you leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, then on the corner of his lips. Your lips lingered for a moment, but neither of you spoke.

Backing away to lay your head back down, you looked at him with hooded eyes. You took your free hand and rang your fingers through his disheveled hair, earning a soft moan from your gentle care. “Thank you.”

“Just close your eyes and get some sleep; I’ll be here.” You moved closer to him and soon felt yourself drifting off. Having Jason beside you once again felt strange, and the issues that you both had were still fresh, but you knew you two would get through them, you had to.

#Jason Todd #Jason #Red Hood #Batfam #Batfam imagines #Batfam imagine #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd imagines #Red Hood imagine #Red Hood imagines #Jason Todd x reader #Jason x reader #Red Hood x reader #DC comics #DC imagines

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