#mad when I go downstairs but I literally can’t without nearly passing out

[spoopy-fish-writes]

Spoops Pookie are you ok are you alright how's everything going

The horrors got me. Ill be normal eventually

#me Ill and ended up sleeping all day and missing my classes without my mother telling me and she’s gonna be sooooo #mad when I go downstairs but I literally can’t without nearly passing out #she’s called me phone nine times and I haven’t responded even once #plus I’m fasting so extra horrors #everything hurts really bad #+ I had a miserable little flashback #saki 💜 #chatting with my beloved moots 💜

[moemoemammon]

So bear with me. MC sleeps like a rock. A bomb could go off next to them, and they don't wake up. Now, add shallow breathing, and they look like a corpse. You could mistake them for a corpse if you don't check their pulse.

How would the brothers (+ datables if you're not too picky hehe) react to the first time waking them up for school only to think they probably died in their sleep on day one??

Sleeping Like a Corpse!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer didn’t think much of you when you arrived, now could he be bothered to personally make sure you peeled yourself out of bed in the morning. So naturally, he sent Mammon to go do it.

But when Mammon came back complaining about how you didn’t budge an inch, big bro realized he’d have to take care of it himself, like usual.

He figured slamming your door open would’ve done the trick, but you remain still. And as much as he wants to drag you out of bed by the ankle, he knows how fragile humans can be. He opts for giving you a vigorous shake, and.... you don’t budge.

He calls your name, nothing. He literally pulls you upright by the shoulders and jostles you around like a protein shaker bottle, but you don’t move, and- wait... are you breathing? MAMMOOOOOO-

“Haaah... It’s your first morning with us, and you’re already causing me trouble. If it weren’t for the warmth of your skin, I’d have thought you were dead. Perhaps I should give you an enchanted alarm clock, if you prove to be this difficult to wake every morning.”

Mammon

Tch, he seriously didn’t get why THE Great Mammon had to do this sorta grunt work! Why should he have to make sure a lousy human gets up for school? It’s not like he’s their babysitter! but we all know he’s a p*ssy so he’s not gonna say that out loud

But that means he’s gonna make sure you know how irritated he is! Mammon bursts into your room, calling you a ‘stinkin’ human’ at the top of his lungs, and... you don’t move a muscle. So his next step is to stomp over and rip your blankets off, and..... you still don’t move.

What the hell? It’s like trying to wake up Belphie! He leans in to try to smack you awake, when he finally notices how it...kinda...looks like you aren’t breathing.

Wait. Wait wait wait-! SURE he didn’t feel like having to watch you, but that didn’t mean he wanted you to die on the first night! Lucifer was gonna KILL him-! Did you die of fright or something?! He didn’t really mean all that stuff he said about eating you, you know?! Hey, snap out of it-!

“What the- You’re ALIVE?! I thought you died in your sleep, dammit! TCH! What’s the big idea, playin’ dead like that?! Ya tryin’ to get me in trouble?!” “-N-no I wasn’t worried about ya!”

Leviathan

Why does HE have to wake you up..? Sure, he has to go to school today anyway for the student council meeting, but what does that have to do with a human..? Couldn’t Lucifer have asked ANYONE else..?

Beyond annoyed when he enters your room. What’s he supposed to do?? Shake you?? Hit you with something???? Levi opts for awkwardly poking your side, and noticing how you don’t react. Great. Ugh... this sucked....

He tries again, then pokes the back of your head, tugs your sleeve, shakes your arm... then you roll over from the movement and he nearly has a heart attack. Not only because you surprised him, but because you.. wait, did you die?!

Stuck between “LMAOOOO ROFLMAO the human died on their first night! What a noob! #fail!” and “KDAKLFHLDSJFKL OH NO HELLO?????”

“WH- Ahhh... I thought you were dead. You know how long Lucifer would've lectured if if you died, right? He'd be so mad, i bet he'd even confiscate my D.D.D.! Normies like you are nothing but trouble. This is why a human shouldn't even be here..."

Satan

What a chore... This felt like more of a punishment than anything, and Satan hadn’t even done anything yet. Unless Lucifer already discovered the ink he dripped into his shampoo? Either way, he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in you.

But seeing as he got to hang around you in your most vulnerable state, wouldn’t it be funny if he put a curse on you? He was sure that whatever he chose would become a headache for Lucifer in some way, so the possibilities were endless.

Temporary blindness, backwards speech, rainbow colored skin, extreme bad luck, he didn’t know what to choose! Ah, and there were a few curses he wanted to use on Lucifer that needed to be tested out, so why not experiment on you?

He had plenty of time to pick the perfect one and- ah. Were you.. dead? Did someone beat him to the punch?

“Ah, so you’re alive after all. And here I thought I could harass Lucifer with knowing his human had died in their sleep. Well, it’ll have to wait, I guess...I was really looking forward to the expression on his face...”

Asmo

What? Lucifer was ACTUALLY letting him go in the cute little human’s room, completely unsupervised? What a bold move, dearest big brother~! There’s no way he’d pass up the chance to take a peek at your sleeping face! You were pretty cute, but he’d like to see if you were worth his attention.

That being said, Asmo creeps into your room like a sneaky toddler, and doesn’t hesitate to grab your shoulder and roll you over to get a good look at your sleeping face. Hmm... Not bad! 

So with that, he hops right into your bed unannounced, bouncing you around and giving you that innocent giggle of his. Aren’t you lucky? You get to be woken up by the endlessly charming Asmo-chan~! The first thing you’ll see is his gorgeous face, and you’ll be blessed with the perfect first school day! 

Why, there are hundreds and thousands of demons who wish they were as lucky as you were right now! He’s seen how they’ll fight tooth and nail for a chance to-..... hey, how come you’re not breathing..? Er, he’s not really into that sort of thing...

“Oh thank goodness! I thought you up and died before I had a chance to get to know you! You know how disappointed I’d be, right? Knowing I wasn’t able to explore the cute human living in our house... it’d be a tragedy!”

Beel

Surprisingly, he doesn’t mind that much. Having to go and wake you up reminds him of when Belphie was still around, so it’s familiar and feels kind of nice. What DOESN’T feel nice is that he’s missing valuable time he could be spending inhaling his breakfast, because you won’t wake up.

Hangry Beel enters your room with a bagel in his mouth, so you couldn’t understand what he was saying even if you were awake. Just know he’s calling your name and threatening to eat your breakfast. It’s your loss if you miss out.

Hm... You don’t wake up even after he shakes you, so he’s tempted to just leave. But he knows Lucifer will scold you if he returns downstairs without you, so he’s got to improvise.

It’s fine if he just carries you downstairs, right? He’s just tryin to eat man why can’t you- ...Beel is noticing a distinct lack of breath coming from you when he picks you up. Uhhh

“Oh, you aren’t dead. I was going to ask Lucifer if we could have you for breakfast too, but I guess that’s not an option anymore. He says hurry up and get dressed, and that you should give me your breakfast. Bye.”

Belphie

He’s in the attic, so same lmao.

Twins! Still gonna strangle and throw you down the stairs in the future tho

Couple goals amirite?

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #shall we date? obey me! #shall we date obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me writing #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 

 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 

 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…

 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

 “Why was I—”

 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 

 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 

 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 

 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 

 *

 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 

 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 

 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 

 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 

 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 

 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 

 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 

 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 

 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 

 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 

 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 

 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 

 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 

 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 

 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 

 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 

 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 

 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 

 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 

 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 

 *

 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 

 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

 "Who's going?"

 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 

 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 

 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 

 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

 Mike ends up going. 

 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 

 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 

 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 

 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 

 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 

 "Man, fuck off."

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 

 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 

 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 

 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 

 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 

 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 

 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 

 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 

 Good. 

 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 

 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 

 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 

 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 

 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 

 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 

 "You know what."

 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 

 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 

 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 

 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 

 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 

 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 

 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 

 Not together his ass. 

 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 

 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 

 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 

 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 

 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 

 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 

 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

 "Literally what did I just say?" 

 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 

 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 

 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 

 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 

 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 

 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 

 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 

 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 

 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 

 "About eleven thirty."

 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

 But nothing. 

 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 

 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 

 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 

 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 

 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 

 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 

 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 

 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 

 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 

 "That's not what I meant."

 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 

 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 

 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 

 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 

 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 

 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 

 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 

 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 

 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 

 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 

 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 

 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 

 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 

 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 

 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 

 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 

 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 

 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 

 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 

 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 

 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

 "See what?" 

 "You and me—"

 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 

 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 

 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 

 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 

 "You caaare about meee."

 He scoffs and looks away

 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 

 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 

 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."

 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 

 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 

 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

 "Wow, fuck you."

 "That's the idea," he smirks. 

 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."

 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 

 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 

 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 

 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

 "Sounds like a challenge to me."

 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 

 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 

 "Stop making that face."

 "What face?" 

 "That—that—"

 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 

 "What face, hm?" 

 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 

 Damn. He's good at this. 

 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 

 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 

 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 

 Maddening. He's maddening. 

 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 

 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 

 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 

 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 

 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 

 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 

 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 

 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 

 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.

 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 

 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 

 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 

 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 

 ��I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”

 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

 That’s not important. 

 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 

 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 

 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 

 “Want me to wear a condom?”

 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 

 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 

 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 

 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 

 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 

 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 

 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 

 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

 “Shit, shit, shit—”

 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 

 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 

 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 

 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 

 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 

 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 

 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 

 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 

 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 

 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 

 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 

 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 

 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 

 “Fuck—shit—”

 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 

 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 

 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 

 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 

 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 

 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 

 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 

 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

 “Yeah, probably not.”

 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 

 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 

 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 

 “M-Mike?”

 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 

 “Are you drunk again?”

 “No. Little buzzed.”

 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

 "What?" 

 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 

 "Mike?"

 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 

 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 

 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 

 “Why have you been lying to me?”

 And, there’s that drop. 

 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 

 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 

 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 

 “I… I’m sorry.”

 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 

 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 

 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 

 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

 “Why does it matter?”

 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 

 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  

 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 

 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

 “Mike…”

 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 

 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 

 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 

 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 

 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

 “That I’m not good enough.”

 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

 “Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 

 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 

 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 

 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 

 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 

 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 

 “I won’t bother you.”

 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 

 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 

 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 

 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 

 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 

 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 

 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 

 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 

 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 

 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 

 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 

 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 

 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

[ignitedbynatsu]

Flour Bomb

A/N: Do I post at the most ungodly hours for my readers in the US? Probably. Do I screw myself by doing so? Yeah, I guess... BUt don’t care 🤷I have this weird obsession when I’m done writing something that I have to get it out as soon as possible 👀 That being said, here is the Natsu x children shenanigans @pro-crastinator14 requested! Hope you like it ❤️

Warnings: swearing

Genre: crack, fluff

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

"Please don't leave us with those three" Gray pleaded as you bid your goodbye to the guild.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," you told the ice mage as you gave Mira-Jane a hug.

"Then take them with you" he huffed. He was absolutely not looking forward to spending the day with those three troublemakers, especially with you gone.

"I can't, it's some private stuff with the family about our father's will" you explained before giving him a reassuring smile "You'll be fine, I'll be back by tonight.

"Nalu! Kenji! Promise me you'll behave and don't make it too hard on your dad" you crouched down to their level, so you could look them in the eyes and show then you were serious.

"We promise mommy!" Your eldest promised as she placed her hand over her heart, her younger brother soon mimicking her.

"Natsu, the same goes for you" you eyed your husband as you stood straight again. He was in an intense staring contest with Gray but turned to you as soon as he heard his name fall from your lips.

"When do I ever not behave?" He smiled sheepishly. Happy piped up "how about never?"

Natsu shot him a glare before giving you a loving smile "We'll be fine. Now go, you don't want to be late, do you?"

You pressed your lips against his, lingering a little longer than you'd normally do, only breaking apart when you felt your children hug your legs. "Bye, mommy!"

And with that you were gone, leaving the soon-to-be chaos-filled guild behind you for the day.

"Alright so, you'll go to uncle Gray and tell him something's in your water bottle and when he bends down, you squeeze the bottle, spraying him with water" this is how nearly the whole day had passed. Natsu and his children prank everyone in the guild. From putting fake spiders around the bar to scare Mira-Jane to colouring Levy's glasses, resulting in her having dark circles around her eyes. No one was safe.

"Natsu, that's enough!" A covered in strawberry cake Erza growled as she towered over the fire dragon slayer. They had hidden a small balloon in her cake so when she went to grab a bite with her fork, the small dessert went flying everywhere.

Everyone in the guild had a matching expression, showing how fed up everyone was with the pranks. "Fine, fine we'll stop, right kids?"

"Yep! Here you go daddy" Kenji handed him a mug with what Natsu presumed was beer, so he took a swing. It didn't take long before he spits the beverage out, tasting soap instead of the bitterness of the golden liquid.

The two children ran away laughing "Oh no, what have I started"

Everyone was on high alert for the two little monsters that were your children "this is your fault" Gajeel growled as everyone was looking for them.

"We were just having a little fun, how was I supposed to know they wouldn't know when to stop?" Natsu tried to defend himself.

"They're your kids, are you really that surprised they don't have an off button?" Lisanna deadpanned.

Natsu grumbled, knowing she was right and that he shouldn't have let it go this far "has anyone found them?"

Everyone gathered in the middle with no success, unbeknownst to them, walking right into the two children's biggest prank yet "flour bomb!"

How the two managed to get that much flower up there without anyone noticing was an absolute mystery, but as the words fell from the two young mages mouths, an avalanche of white powder flew down, covering the whole guild and their mages in the process.

"Nalu! Kenji!" Natsu yelled at his children, but the two had already run from the scene, the only thing that could be heard was their laughter.

"Shit! We have to clean this up before (Y/N) comes back" the fire mage cursed as realization dawned upon him.

"We?" Gray laughed "Oh, good luck buddy"

Gray patted his shoulder as he and the others piled out of the guild "Wait! Where are you going?"

"To get cleaned up and go to another bar!" Cana called over her shoulder "have fun with your monsters"

A couple more profanities left Natsu's lips as he peered to the guild, hoping to catch even a glimpse of his children.

"There are footsteps here" Happy announced who had flown up to where they had last seen the two.

"Happy you're a genius!" Once Natsu had climbed up the two followed the trail that led them to a small crawl space underneath the roof.

The dragon slayer poked his head in and there indeed where the two troublemakers "Nalu. Kenji. That's enough. Get your asses down"

The two shared a glance, they had never seen their father this serious before. They obeyed his order and quietly made it back downstairs.

"We're sorry, daddy, we didn't mean to make everyone mad" both their head hung low in shame as they prepared themselves to get yelled at.

Natsu sighed, knowing that he was partly to blame in all of this "it's not all your fault, I should've put my foot down sooner."

"So you're not upset with us?" Nalu lifted her head as she looked at her father with glossy eyes.

"I wouldn't say that, but I think cleaning this mess is punishment enough, so I won't yell at you" Natsu patted his daughter's head.

So the four got to work, trying their best to get rid of all the flour, but it was literally everywhere. Halfway through, the two children had fallen asleep, leaving Natsu and Happy to get rid of the rest.

"What happened here" you gasped as you took notice of the mess in front of you. Both your children were covered in flour and knocked out on a table, while Natsu and Happy, who were also covered in flour, were sweeping the floor.

"(Y/N)! You're back early!" Natsu's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he heard your voice. Your eyes narrowed at him as you awaited an explanation.

He sighed as he placed the broom against a table and glanced at Nalu and Kenji "A prank that got a little out of hand, but" he rushed to say as you pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance "before you yell at us, we all knew we were in the wrong and learned from our mistakes. We even decided to clean up as punishment for our behaviour"

Your eyes cast upon your children, still not saying a word so Natsu decided to continue with his apology "we're really sorry, I'm really sorry. I know you put trust in us, and we broke it"

"I'm never leaving you three alone again" you sighed "but it's fine, you saw that you were in the wrong and took responsibility. Let's finish cleaning up and get them home, shall we?"

By the time you were done, the moon was high in the night sky. "You sure you're not mad at me?"

Natsu's voice was hushed as he carried a sleeping Nalu in his arms while you carried Kenji. "No, you'll always be a troublemaker, but you're my troublemaker and I wouldn't have it any other way"

#fairy tail #fairy tail imagine #gray fullbuster #fairy tail imagines #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fairy tail x reader #laxus dreyar #lucy heartifilla #natsu dragon slayer #natsu dragneel imagine #fairy tail natsu #natsu #natsu x reader #natsu dragneel x reader #natsu dragneel imagines #fairy tail lucy #fairy tail gray #fairy tail jellal #fairy tail x fluff #ft natsu #ft #ft x reader

[miss-tc-nova]

Impatience and Motivation - Xehanort x Reader

The downside to the “Red String” AU is that it feels a bit too straight forward. Follow the string, find your soulmate, tada! Unless you have someone trying to defy their fate or write angst like my first attempt. But, I got to thinking about it and chruned this baby out super fast, so it’s kinda messy, but it was fun. So here’s terrible take 2 of the Red String AU with Xehanort. 

~~~~~

              “Alright, look you, just tell me where you were when the tarts disappeared and I won’t call in my baking partner.”

              The boy with slate colored hair gives an awkward smile. “I was with you, remember? We were working on the history homework the Master gave us.”

              My shoulders drop. “Oh yeah. Okay, you’re clear. You can go. Eraqus!”

              From the table where he and Urd sit, the boy looks visibly nervous; as the most likely suspect, he should be. I wave a finger at him to come closer.

              Just as the anxious kid stands to take his turn in interrogation, the classroom door slams open. Vor bursts into the room.

              “OKAY! I DID IT!” Eraqus shouts, no doubt in fear of what my “partner,” Vor, would do to him. “I couldn’t help it! They were just so good!”

              “I KNEW IT!” I shout, preparing to pounce on the criminal.

              “What’s wrong?”

              Urd’s question tears my attention back to Vor, who’s heaving as if she’d run up here all the way from the docks.

              “Th…The docks,” she gasps.

              Oh, apparently she did.

              “There was a stranger at the docks.”

              “What’s wrong with that?” Hermod asks. “Everyone goes to the docks.”

              She shakes her head, still trying to catch her breath before pointing to the roof. “He fell from the sky!”

              “What?!” I exclaim.

              “No way! Let’s go see!”

              I’m almost one hundred percent certain that this is Eraqus’s excuse to escape his punishment, but I admit that I, too, am curious about the stranger from the sky.

              We nearly leave poor Vor behind in the rush to get to downstairs, but just as we reach the balcony overlooking the foyer, the front doors to the citadel open. The Master leads the way along with another of the school’s teachers, but behind them our classmates, Bragi and Baldr, are dragging in an unconscious boy between them.

              The gears in my brain catch on something as I watch the group pass. Silver hair hides the young man’s face but I already can’t stop staring at him.

              Right up until it catches my eye.

              Everyone in existence is born with the Red String of Fate that binds two people as soulmates. It remains invisible early in life, but reveals itself as a person reaches puberty—because teens really needed more drama to deal with. Depending on how close the soulmates are, the length of the string can change. Mine has always been the tiniest length, not even the width of the nail on my pinky finger where it sat. That kind of separation was daunting but I let myself forget about it, telling myself I’d worry about it when I had the power to travel the worlds.

              But there it is, stretching the distance to wrap around the stranger’s finger.

              My hand lifts, testing if what I was seeing was really a thread connecting us. No matter how I waved it, I couldn’t find a break in the line. It’s him—he’s my soulmate.

              “Ow!”

              My heart stammers once I realize my hand just made contact with Hermod’s face.

              “Oh, sorry!” I exclaim, watching him rub his nose. “I’m sorry!”

              “Are you okay?” Urd asks.

              Of course, other people can’t see the red string of others; they wouldn’t know—I barely know.

              “Yeah, I…I’m fine,” I say, not actually sure that I am. “I have to check something. I’ll see you guys later.”

              Before they can ask me any more questions, I race down the stairs.

              Abandoning my friends was apparently for nothing as I’ve completely lost track of the group. My string tries leading me through walls and even into a bathroom, until I finally run into Baldr and Bragi.

              “Woah, what’s the rush?” Bragi asks as I nearly bowl poor Baldr to the ground.

              “That boy,” I gasp. “Where is he?”

              Baldr makes sure I’m steady before letting me go. “He’s in the infirmary.”

              “Yeah, dude’s out cold,” Bragi adds.

              I don’t wait another second before I bolt down the hall.

              Again, all for nothing—the staff at the infirmary won’t let me see him. I can see the red line reaching past them, passing through a curtain wall, but it’s no use—no guests until he’s cleared by them which will probably take a few days.

              And what an agonizing few days those are. I can’t sleep, I can’t focus on class, I barely allow myself five minutes to eat before I’m pestering the infirmary staff and they’re quickly getting sick of me. Even my classmates have noticed my behavior, but I haven’t found the words or sense to tell them yet. I’m living in my own little world of madness that would probably dissolve if I could just meet him.

              In the student dorms, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling, slowly driving myself insane wondering just when I’ll get to meet the mysterious boy. I’ve thought about what I’ll say or what I’d do, all the cheesy romantic things that could happen, but for the love of the gods, I just want to meet him. I don’t know what will happen after that—I haven’t thought about it; all I know is that my life will change forever with him in it.

              The red suddenly moves. Turning my attention on the string, I see it slowly moving across the room at a rate anyone in the citadel would not be capable of.

              “So yeah, that’s pretty much everything.”

              That’s Eraqus coming down the hall. That itself wouldn’t be so strange—he’s my neighbor—except he’s moving practically in time with the movement of my string.

              “And this is my room, so if you ever need anything, I’m right here.”

              It stops; they’re right outside my door.

              “Cool. Thanks.”

              The second voice, the new voice, sends my heart into overdrive. Immediately, I sit up on high alert—it’s him.

              “No problem,” Eraqus says. “Dinner’s in about an hour; wanna hang out until then?”

              “No, that’s okay. There’s something I wanna check out.”

              “Okay. Well, like I said, you know where to find me if you need something. If I can’t find it, I know people who can!”

              “Alright. Thanks.”

              I hear Era’s door open and close but the string doesn’t move. Everything is perfectly still except the heart pounding in my chest. Slowly, as if any sudden movement will wake me from such a cruel dream, I get to my feet and cross the room, just to hesitate at the door.

              “I know you’re in there.”

              I can’t tell whether his soft accusation is for me or his own affirmation, but it sends goosebumps racing across my skin.

              Taking the handle to my door, I finally get to meet the person made just for me.

              Immediately, my eyes glue to the shimmering silver that makes his gaze. I could drown in it, never to resurface and be perfectly happy.

              He’s the first to break with a whisper. “Hi.”

              “Hi.” My voice isn’t much better.

              His eyes finally drop and I follow suit. Between us is his open palm, the red string wrapped around his pinky. Lifting my hand beside his, I examine the string, short and clear between our fingers—if there were doubts before, there are none now.

              For a second time, our eyes meet.

              “I’m Xehanort,” he says, still in quiet awe. His hand turns slightly.

              “_____.” I take the gesture, resting my hand in his.

              A wave of calm washes over me as everything in the world is suddenly right, instantly soothing all the anxiety and impatience I’d been suffering these last few days.

              Without warning, he pulls me against him, arms wrapped tightly around me and his face against my shoulder.

              “Thank you.”

              I’m literally stunned silent.

              “I never would’ve gotten off that hellhole island if it weren’t for you.” The crack in his voice breaks my heart. “You’re the reason I kept going.”

              “Xehanort,” I murmur, resting a hand in his hair.

              He pulls away, straightening up and smiling despite his tears. “Sorry. I’m okay. I’m just…relieved I guess.”

              Offering a smile, I brush away a stray tear. “Things are gonna get better, I promise.”

              He leans into my palm, looking entirely at peace. “Yeah, okay.”

              Trying to lighten things up, I squish his cheeks between my hands. “Now did Eraqus actually show you around, or did he just walk straight here?”

              Gods, that laugh would let me die happy right now.

              He pulls away. “I’m not even sure how I got here.”

              “I thought so. That boy is gonna owe me more than tarts now.”

              “What?”

              “You’ll see.”

#young xehanort #young xehanort x reader #xehanort x reader #Young Master Xehanort X Reader #gender neutral reader #influence my story #take 2

[cesabutterflywrites]

AU where Carlisle was there to help Bella give birth and Jacob doesn't imprint on Renesmee

[Ao3] Word Count:  2056

Carlisle takes Renesmee and cleans her up while Edward does his venom thing and Jacob does his keeping Bella's heart beating thing. Literally nothing changes in that except-

-----

Jacob gives up. Bella's dead. He goes downstairs to kill that thing. His heart was pounding in time with each thought. He needed to destroy it. The thing that no one sees for what it really is. It's not a baby. It's not a person. They really thought Bella was so expendable? They had all fallen victims to it’s manipulation. 

He slowly walks up to where it is. Blondie is cooing at it. Of course, she probably wanted to play Mom the most. Esme is sitting next to her. She is holding some sort of metal container. Jacob pauses. He doesn't want to hurt Esme too.

Carlisle comes from behind him holding a pouch of blood. Human blood that was meant to save lives, not feed a demon. He eyes Jacob's face with a hint of suspicion.

"She's going to be okay, Jacob." Ugh, why did he have to sound so sure? Doctors are always smug about that stuff, Jacob thought angrily.

But Carlisle isn't smug. He seems to genuinely think Bella will make it. "Edward has her. She'll pull through for him, if not anyone else."

Even with Bella dead, Jacob's heart stings. He reluctantly pulls his eyes away from the women cooing at what looks like a pile of blankets. He’s torn. Helplessly he looks back to Carlisle, unsure of what he needs to do. Carlisle's eyes are dark as night, but they still hold the same kindness that he always showed.

Jacob deflates. Once again he knows he can't hurt Carlisle. He falls to his knees as he can't stand anymore. Tears that burn like acid fall to the floor without his consent. "It's not fair!" he cries out. His voice roars out a cry that’s filled with months of grief from every time he’s lost Bella.

Carlisle walks a few steps to hand Esme that blood. Jacob knows he’s alone. So he’s surprised when suddenly ice cold hands that burn grip him under his arms to help him stand up. "Let's take a walk."

Carlisle doesn't have to walk with him. There is a new thing in the world that just killed his daughter in law, a small part in Jacob's mind tells him. The part feels so far away it's screams are nothing but a whisper.

Seth tries to approach them, but when they look into each other's eyes he backs off. Jacob wonders what he looks like to the young wolf.

Carlisle and him just walk down a path behind the house. Jacob stays quiet, scared that he���ll make that awful sound again,  while Carlisle speaks to him gently. His mind feels like it’s filling up with cotton, but the doc speaks in a way that still gets through to him.

"I know you want to kill her, Jacob, but do you think you can kill something that is so much like Bella? Are you capable of that?" Why isn’t Carlisle accusing him? Why isn’t he mad? 

"It's not Bella..." Jacob hears himself respond. Why is he whispering? He’s supposed to be shouting.

"You're right, my apologies." Carlisle stops walking. He turns to face Jacob. "I got a good look at her. She's extraordinary. More human than vampire from what I was able to tell."

There are no words. The cotton had filled him up too much. Bella is dead. There’s no human to be passed down anymore.

He just lets Carlisle talk. He can't stand anymore, though, so he just sits on the ground in defeat. He doesn’t care that his shorts are now covered in mud.

Then, to his surprise, Carlisle sits in the mud with him.

He grins when Jacob looks baffled. "Don't tell Alice," he winks. The playful mood leaves as soon as it comes. "I won't tell you to leave. I won't tell you to let go of your anger. You still have a place with us as long as you need it. I just have one request."

Request. Just like Bella requested and begged for Jacob to stay? "What?" The part of him that’s far away is angry at the audacity that he’s being asked to give more. Doesn’t Carlisle see how empty Jacob is?

"Just look at her. Try to see her now that she's outside of Bella."

"You know I can't do that," Jacob chokes out. Hot tears blur his vision again, along with that familiar anger that had been with him for what now felt like forever. "It killed her."

"We don't know for sure." Carlisle replies calmly.

Jacob shoots up. "No!"

Carlisle just looks up at him. He doesn't stand up. Why won't he stand up too?

"So you'd go against what Bella wants? If she does die, will disrespect her wishes like that?"

"No! I won't kill it yet," Jacob knows as he speaks that he won't go through with it. He probably wasn’t ever going to. "But I'll be damned if I look at that thing! It’s evil."

----

Jacob wasn't that surprised that Bella pulled through after all. For now, that distant part told him, her heart will stop beating again.

He still hadn't looked at Renesmee. Seriously, that was its name? It was a truly awful name. Probably fitting, considering how awful it was for killing its own mother. 

Everyone was wrapped around it’s fingers. Even Alice had pulled through. Everyone had kissed it goodbye probably twenty times each before they left to go hunt. 

Jacob hadn't turned back into a wolf yet to go talk to Sam. He didn't know why. It was like he knew if he phased that he wouldn't be able to come back, and he wanted to wait to see what would happen to Bella. Even with her turning into a monster he still seemed unable to let her go.

Leah and Seth were handling things okay. Seth was giving him updates on the hourly, even if there wasn’t much to report. Though it quickly became apparent that he was just looking for excuses to say hi to the ‘baby’. 

Seth and Carlisle came into the living room. Carlisle was holding Renesmee. The doctor looked like he was more of a dad than he actually was. Jacob guessed it made sense. He looked too young to be a dad to all these ‘teenagers’. 

Carlisle sat next to him on the couch. Jacob automatically looked away from Renesmee. He didn’t need to look at it to know about it. He heard the doc and the others talking about it. He knew it had a heartbeat. He knew it was growing quicker than normal. He knew all about its ability to touch someone and share it’s thoughts. 

What a twisted version of mind control, Jacob thought. 

“Jake, you sure you don’t wanna see her?” Seth asked for the hundredth time. “She’s beautiful.” 

“It’s okay, Seth.” Carlisle told him gently. “Jacob needs time. This is very hard for him.” 

Bella’s heart upstairs skipped a beat. Jacob listened for any shuffling. Still nothing. She hadn’t moved at all. If it weren’t for her fighting heartbeat, Jacob would have thought she really did die from how still she’d been. 

Carlisle sighed. “I’m going to  check on Bella. Seth, do you mind?” 

“Nope! Come here, baby.” Seth’s voice raised in pitch. He was using a stupid voice that adults used to talk to babies and puppies. “Hi, Renesmee. How are you? Huh? You feeling ready for a nap?” 

“Ugh, Seth, can’t you take that to another room? I’m trying to watch TV.” He was lying. The only thing on TV was some stupid baking show. 

Seth’s grin didn’t waver. “Good. I wanted to show the baby TV too…” 

“There are a million other TVs, Seth!” Jacob snapped. Why was he being more annoying than usual? 

The thing in Seth’s arm squawked. He heard a sniffle, then after a beat, suddenly it started crying. 

“Oh, no no Renesmee, don’t cry!” Seth worried. He switched back to his baby voice. “Wanna do some bounces?” Seth started bouncing up and down on his toes. 

Seth started walking back and forth while the thing’s cries grew louder. “Uhh, Jake?” 

Jacob stood up. The cries were pounding against his entire body. He felt his fists starting to quiver. He was tempted to just leave early if this is what was going to happen. “What?!” 

“She wants you,” Seth told him. Jacob, with no control over his eyes, looked to see a white hand pressing against Seth’s cheek. The cries were repeating, sounding like whimpers. 

“Ah, ah, aaaah!”

Jacob, bewildered, looked further down to see Renesmee’s face for the first time. 

She was bigger than he expected. He had heard everyone whispering about her fast growth rate. He still wasn’t prepared. She was round. Her face was growing redder while tears rolled down her cheeks. Her small mouth was open to show teeth! Like, a full kid’s set. She was wearing a little blue baby dress. She  opened her eyes to suck in another breath and Jacob let out a noise that was foreign to his ears. 

She had Bella’s eyes. 

She must have been as shocked as he was that he was finally looking at her. Her shouts wore down to hiccups. Without warning, she turned her body to reach out towards Jacob. Seth looked like he was about to lose hold, and without thinking Jacob reached out to stop her from falling. 

She was warm! Nearly the same temperature as him. Jacob’s thoughts were too jumbled to make sense. Like he wasn’t thinking in words, but in foreign images. For a moment he thought he saw his own face, but there was an expression he had never seen before, like a mixture of awe and sadness. 

“What’s she showing you?” Carlisle asked from behind him. Jacob jumped, and suddenly fully had Renesmee in his arms. How had he not heard the doc come down the stairs? 

“Show- showing me?” Jacob asked. He looked down at Renesmee to see that she was resting her small hand on his shoulder. She was smiling, though there were still tears staining her face. At least she wasn’t sniffling or hiccupping anymore. 

Jacob slowly reached his hand toward her face. He felt, more than heard, Carlisle and Seth suck in a breath. Tentatively he used the back of his index finger to wipe the wetness off of her cheek. Her skin was soft. She looked adoringly at him. Like she had found a shiny new toy. No, it was more than that. 

The smile on her face was the same smile Bella had whenever she’d see him. 

It was too much, but not enough. He hugged her to his chest. This wasn’t an evil demon. This was Bella’s daughter. This baby in his arms was the last remaining piece of Bella’s humanity. She was an entirely new piece to the puzzle that seemed to fit into their crazy life. She was Bella, she was herself. She was just a child.

He looked up to see Carlisle grinning at him. 

“She’s just a baby!” He let out a laugh, which turned into sobs. “I don’t- What-” he couldn’t complete his sentences. 

He saw an image of his crying face suddenly, tinged with curiosity that wasn’t his. He looked down to see the baby’s eyebrows crinkled. She looked just like Bella when she would worry about him. Her brown eyes were wide with innocent curiosity, so untainted with the worries of the storm around her. 

“I think I’m okay.” He told her, not sure how well she understood. 

Carlisle reached for Renesmee. “I have to measure her again.” 

Jacob was surprised to feel that he was reluctant to give her over. Though she made the decision for him by rolling over to reach for Carlisle. She did glance back at him once more before she left.

Carlisle took her promptly. He smiled down at her, then looked up again at Jacob. “How are you?” 

Jacob shook his head. The cotton feeling was dissipating until all that was left was raw confusion mixed with deep awe. “I don’t know.” He didn’t know. Everything was changed even though nothing was different.  

“That’s okay, Jake,” Seth piped in. He patted Jacob’s shoulder. “She has that effect on people.” 

So she does, Jacob thought. “So she does,” he echoed his thoughts out loud.

#twilight #twilight breaking dawn #drabble #twilight drabble #twilight au #Jacob Black #Renesmee Cullen #Carlisle Cullen #Seth Clearwater #Esme Cullen #Rosalie Hale #Bella Swan #breaking dawn #twilight oneshot #twilight fic #mama cesa writes

[softyoongiionly]

La Grande Maison: A Mystery in Three Acts 🎠

The rooftop is your safe haven. It’s your escape from the woes of the world below and, you and your best friends take every opportunity you can to visit this special place. It’s here that time slows down, that all your problems seem to fade away...

But when one of you goes missing, not even the rooftop can save you from the nightmare that has yet to unfold. 

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (but also this one is mainly about good ol fashion friendship)

Genre: Mystery/Thriller

Word Count: 25k 

Warnings (please read me!!!): angst (like seriously chief this one is ROUGH), alcohol use (not excessive), drug use (not excessive), violence, mentions of murder/crime/kidnapping, swearing (excessive), mentions of death, character death (not major), SMUT (18+ only please). 

A/N: hello yes. It is me. This one is ALOT my friends. Like holy freaking heck. I am honestly so incredibly excited for you to read this and, I can’t wait to see what you think of it. It’s my actual baby and, I’m kind of nervous cause, I’ve never written a fic like this before so, I really really really hope you like it. If you do, please let me know, feedback means everything to me. 

Please Note: Bolded text indicates when characters are speaking Korean

Regarding Taehyung’s French scenes (yes our boy is fluent in french in this fic), I did my best. My french isn’t perfect so, if there are mistakes I am super sorry. 

Please please please let me know if you liked it!

I love you all so much, please enjoy.

Act I- Sur La Grande Maison

The rooftop is a place you often end up.  

It’s a little cliché, you think: a bunch of misfits corralled onto a dodgy high-rise building in the middle of the city, cigarette smoke wafting in the air.  

But you and your friends aren’t delinquents.  

The worst any of you has ever done is get a speeding ticket and that only happened because, one of you had dared Hoseok to go over 100 miles an hour on the highway: Hoseok never turns down a dare.  

But no, the rooftop is a quiet place despite the shady motel it rests upon and, it’s a place you and your group of friends cherish for different reasons  

Jin likes it because; he can spot new street food vendors from the massive height of the building. He’s made all of you try some interesting shit but, most of the time, it’s delicious.  

Namjoon has perfect view of the river and, sometimes he separates from the seven of you to write poetry while gazing down at it.  

Yoongi doesn’t always join you but, he finds himself dragging himself out of the house to listen to the underground rappers that perform in the club next door.  

He thinks he can do better.  

He’s probably right.  

The rooftop gives Hoseok the space to dance; he doesn’t have it downstairs in the room he rents and, he can’t afford a practice room. So, he brings out his old speakers and amuses the rest of you while he moves fluidly around the concrete.  

Taehyung loves to paint the skyline and, the roof allows him a view that he can’t get anywhere else. He’s painted it a hundred times but, he hasn’t used every color; not yet at least.  

Jungkook brings his dads old polaroid up every time you guys meet. He takes unflattering pictures of all of you and, you know it’s just for fun but, what you don’t know is that he’s made a collage on his wall of all of them and, he smiles at them each morning as he heads to work.  

And Jimin well…  

Jimin has a lot of reasons why he loves the rooftop:  

His friends of course; he can’t imagine his life without all of the late nights/early mornings he’s spent huddled up with his best friends, laughing so hard he can’t see straight.    

The view is amazing, it makes Jimin feel like he lives in a penthouse despite him working three minimum wage jobs just to keep a shitty roof over his head.  

But all of those things pale in comparison to his favorite thing about the rooftop: you.  

You’ve been friends since high school but eight months ago, he started realizing that the little crush he had is actually full-blown LOVE and, that he should probably tell you soon before he loses his shit.  

Luckily for him, you reciprocated.  

It wasn’t easy at first, Jimin’s a jealous man and, he let his trust issues get in the way but, after a few stupid fights, he decided he needed to grow up and knock it off.  

The rooftop saw it all, the fights, the making up, the making out and, one night when everyone fell asleep, Jimin made you cum three times underneath the blanket the two of you were sharing.  

It’s a little filthy he knows but, he gets kind of primal around you, he wants everyone to know you’re his.  

But he knows when it’s appropriate to do so and, he’d never try to control you.  

Unless you two were in bed together then, there are times when you give him that control.  

He always brings you down nicely though, he always kisses your forehead...  

You think you might fall in love with him a little more each time.  

“Y/N?”  

A voice brings you out of your thoughts and, you look up across the makeshift bonfire to see Hoseok smirking knowingly at you.  

“There’s an old mattress over by the chimney if you and Jimin need to relieve yourselves...”  

There is a small echo of laughter that moves through the group and, you cock your head in confusion, “What are you talking about?  

Jimin throws a cigarette butt at him, wrapping an arm around you, “Fuck off. She doesn’t realize she does it...” You feel him tuck a bit of hair behind your ear, smiling fondly at you, “Don’t worry about him, he’s just mad he doesn’t have a girl looking at him like that.”  

You turn towards the rest of your friends, “Wait what do you mean? What did I do?”  

With chaos in his eyes, Jin takes the cigarette Namjoon passes to him before nodding to you, “You were eye fucking your boyfriend.”  

“Shut uuuup.” You answer immediately, burying your face in Jimin’s neck which prompts a pleased round of laughter to move past his lips.  

You didn’t realize you were doing it but, you don’t protest his observation.  

It’s been nearly a month since you’ve had a night off, meaning you’ve gone without your boyfriend’s touch for way too long.  

He tugs you closer to him and presses a kiss to your head whilst everyone else laughs at your expense.  

As the night breeze rushes in to move between the eight of you, Jimin holds you even tighter, tugging the old knitted blanket around your body.  

“Give her a break, she’s been without dick for a long time...it’s been like a month since we met up.” Taehyung interjects, taking a drag of the cigarette before passing it to Jungkook.  

Cigarettes are nearly $10 a pack, so they share one at a time and, pitch in when the supply runs low.  

You don’t smoke but five of them do and, you’re kind of thankful your boyfriend isn’t one of them.  

“So? Do you guys not meet up in between? Y/N has a studio, plenty of privacy...” Jin waves his hand between the two of you, judgement in his eyes.  

Jimin tenses up beside you, not really enjoying the way the conversation has shifted, “We both work 3 jobs hyung, you know that.”  

“You’re right. Sex is probably quite straining for you...” Jin smirks, enjoying the annoyance in Jimin’s eyes.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin’s eyes are narrowed and, you are quickly coming up with a plan to distract your boyfriend from Jin’s teasing.  

His not exactly a good candidate for roasting; he’s far too sensitive for that.  

“You know cause it’s...” Jin positions his fingers in such a way that suggests that Jimin has a small dick  

“Jin-” Namjoon groans in warning but, Jungkook and Hoseok have already started snickering.  

You expect your boyfriend to pop off, guns a blazing, eyes alight with offence but, instead he just smirks.  

Letting his hand curve around the ball of your knee, he says something that nullifies Jin’s insult,  

“You don’t have to have a big dick to be good in bed hyung...”  

Jin isn’t phased and he raises his eyebrows as he holds the cigarette to his lips, “That’s something people with small dicks say.”  

Hoseok and Jungkook snicker again, enjoying the drama and Taehyung grins from behind his phone, shaking his head.  

Jimin’s smirk widens as his hand continues to trail up your thigh, “Do you think I’m bad in bed?”  

His question is spoken into your ear and, his breath against your skin causes a shiver to run through you.  

“No.” You giggle, leaning into him and, he’s quick to tighten his grip on you, his lips quickly finding the side of your head.  

“Now, Y/N...every good relationship is built on trust. You two will never last if you continue to lie.” Jin’s laughter escalates to a full-blown windshield wiper volume and, surprisingly enough, it’s Yoongi who shuts him down  

“Your fiancé made you sleep on the couch with me the other night because, you were too drunk to get it up so,” Yoongi tilts his head as if he’s wagering two options, “you're not really in the position to be talking shit.”  

Everyone’s face turns up in surprise as Yoongi, or Mouse, as they like to call him, puts Jin on blast without even looking up from his phone.  

“Mouse just ended your whole life bro.” Hoseok cackles, throwing back a bit of vodka as Jungkook leans into him with the weight of his laughter.  

Jin waves him off like the unbothered king he is and, gestures to the vodka bottle in Hoseok’s hands, “Mouse’s have tiny dicks too so, he’s just jealous.”  

Namjoon literally cringes in his seat, looking at Jin with incredulity, “Mice not mouse’s...”  

Taehyung laughs at that, leaning forward a bit to warm his hands around the fire. He looks exhausted but, then again, so do the rest of you.  

But it speaks volumes doesn’t it?  

That you’re all hear together, on your only days off, soaking up every bit of time you have.  

Roasting aside, anyone can see that there is nothing but love between the eight of you.  

If you had it your way, you’d spend every night up here.  

Jimin reminds you with his lips, just how long it’s been as he places a few kisses against your cheek, “Come play with me.”  

You giggle, turning in his grip to meet his grinning face, “You sound like the twins from The Shining...”  

Jimin’s eyes wrinkle with his laughter but, he’s quick to place a searing kiss to your lips along with another sinful phrase, “Please? I haven’t seen you naked in a month.”  

You shake your head, tucking hand behind his neck to pull him closer to you, “I’ve sent you nudes...”  

Jimin’s quick to kiss you again but, his lips pout further and, you notice the scent of after shave lingering around his face.  

That shouldn’t turn you on but, for whatever reason, it does.  

“Yes you did and, trust me when I say, I put them to good use-” He kisses you again, nudging your nose as he does, “but I want the real thing.”  

“Let’s go then.” You whisper against his lips  

He kisses you once more before, getting Hoseok’s attention, “Yah, I need your key.”  

Hoseok lives on the 8th floor of the motel you’re currently loitering on and, his room is a place you and Jimin often end up during nights like these.  

Most people would be weirded out by it but, for you guys, it’s normal.  

You don’t bat your eyes at the seedier sides of life, you’ve all lived through it in some way.  

Hoseok just smirks, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “Stay off my bed unless you plan on inviting me this time.”  

Jimin just flips him off, grinning fondly at him before taking your hand and, tugging you towards the door.  

“Don’t be too long, we wanna play poker!” Jungkook calls after the two of you and, although Jimin has a mission in mind, he responds anyway.  

“With what money?”  

“We’re playing for bragging rights obviously, that shit means more to you heathens than actual money.” Namjoon smirks, taking a swig of the vodka before passing it to Yoongi.  

“That doesn’t apply to me; I would sell all of you for an even $500.” Yoongi remarks, taking a big gulp and, bearing his teeth as it burns his throat.  

The rest of you just laugh but, before you can add your two sense, Jimin is tugging you behind the door.  

He has you pressed up against it immediately, his hands finding your waist whilst his plush lips kiss you with everything he’s got.  

You’re quick to reciprocate as your hands slide around the curve of his neck. Delicately, your fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck and, it spurs Jimin on even more as he groans into your mouth.  

“Christ, what are you doing to me?” He laments against your mouth, causing laughter to bubble past your lips, “It’s not funny...” He laments but, he’s grinning as he does, walking you backwards towards the elevator, “I’ve only been kissing you for ten seconds and, I’m already so hard.”  

You tug him through the elevator doors the collar of his t-shirt all while trying to keep your lips connected, “Should I only expect you to last for ten seconds too?”  

Jimin grunts in protest, his brows furrowing cutely as he shakes his head, “Don’t make fun of me, I missed you...” He whines playfully, smirking when you hitch a leg around his waist.  

“I missed you too.” You breath and, you always marvel at young Jimin can make you feel.  

You’re fully grown, sexually active adults and, yet here you grinding into one another like a bunch of hormonal rookies. The denim of his jeans pressing against the soft cotton of your panties hits you right in the pit of your stomach and, you’re honestly a little shocked by how wet you are.  

Jimin slides the key card through Hoseok’s door several times before it finally works.  

This motel is not a featured business on Yelp.  

“Fucking door- ugh Jesus I don’t know how he gets this open when he’s hammered.” Jimin laughs, pulling you close to him as soon as he shoves Hoseok’s door shut.  

“I have found him sleeping in the hallway before.” You point out but, the importance of your reply dies on your tongue when Jimin steps back to pull his shirt off.  

You don’t hide your reaction either, letting your eyes wander over the masterpiece that is Jimin’s body.  

He’s slightly tan from his days working at the pool, his sinewy muscles protruding tastefully against his smooth skin; it’s enough to make you drool.  

But to center yourself, you comment on something tangible before you literally start begging for him,  

“Your tattoo is healing nicely.” You nod your head to the black ink scrawled across Jimin’s ribs  

The word ‘nevermind’ has never looked so good on someone's skin before.  

He just smirks, “Yeah, it’s still a little sore though.”  

“Oh?” With a tilt of your head, you let your eyes scan over it again, “Should I kiss it better?”  

Your question doesn’t get answered because the next thing you know, Jimin has you on the couch, sat astride on his lap with your shirt half way up your torso.  

“I want you naked- I don’t give a fuck if they’re waiting on us...”  

All you can manage is a nod and, Jimin quickly tugs your shirt over your head.  

He connects his lips to the crook of your neck, sighing into your skin as if the taste alone soothes him.  

“You missed me too right?” He mumbles causing you to gently tug on the black tendrils of his hair so he’ll face you.  

“Of course.” You peck his lips once before pushing him back against the arm of the couch, “See?”  

Jimin nearly busts right there when you lean back to pull your skirt up, exposing the dampened material of your panties.  

Your boyfriend has a panty fetish that nearly warrants concern. For months, he would beg you to leave your panties with him after the two of you had sex until finally; you were down to your last 8 pair.  

He bought you more of course but, that didn’t stop him from begging all over again.  

“Fuck these are my favorite...” He winces at the sight, letting out a shaky breath before his darkening irises find yours again, “Leave them on.”  

You smirk, letting your skirt down and, pecking at his lips once again, “I thought you wanted me naked.”  

He bites down on your bottom lip, pulling it for a moment and, letting it snap back in place,  

“I changed my mind. I wanna cum all over these pretty little panties you’re wearing instead...”  

Jimin makes good on his promise.  

Sex with Jimin is something else.  

The pleasure he brings you is so intense it’s almost painful.  

It’s almost painful because, you hardly see each other and, if you had it your way, you’d be in his lap all the time.  

But, life doesn’t work that way.  

So, you take what you can get.  

He makes you cum twice on his dick, with his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.  

He whispers dirty secrets in your ear and, somehow manages to make you feel both filthy and beautiful all at once.  

Prodding another weakness of his, hickies, you help him reach his own release and, within 10 minutes he’s attaining the orgasm he’s been craving so desperately.  

“Fuck, I missed you so much...” He croons into your neck, nuzzling his nose there for a moment as you run your fingers through his hair.  

“I missed you too.” You smile, kissing the shell of his ear  

The two of you stay like that for a moment, kissing on one another, relishing in your reunion.  

When the time is right, the two of you will share a place one day but, for now, you have to continue working hard and saving money for the things your future.  

And speaking of making money...  

Your phone buzzes in the pocket of your skirt and, you sadly drag your attention away from your boyfriend to see a text from your boss at the nursing home  

Xander: Christian called out tonight :/  

Xander: you want to work a double?

Night shifts pay time and a half and, it would be another 8 hours on this next paycheck...  

It’s like a punch to the chest really.  

Because, you have to leave.  

One your one night off in nearly a month.  

You feel like crying but, you know that’s ridiculous.  

Jimin’s face falls as he sees the text on your phone but, he knows that his disappointment will only make you feel guilty and, he really doesn’t want that.  

So instead, he curls a finger underneath your chin and, kisses you with a tenderness that he doesn’t often display.  

Not that he isn’t sweet with you, it’s just that his lips are sinful and, normally they are working you into a frenzy.  

The time you two have together is so limited that everything always feels so rushed but, in this moment, he takes the time to kiss you slowly.  

And as he brushes a thumb across your cheek, he makes a promise to you, “I promise, we’ll get our break someday and, when that day comes, I’ll be kissing this pretty mouth of yours every chance I get...”  

You smile, leaning into his hand, “I’ll make you breakfast every morning…and we can decorate together our place together and-“

Jimin interrupts your fantasy with a kiss, grinning fondly into your lips, “Anything you want.”

You wrap your arms around him once more, tucking your face into his neck, wishing desperately that you can stay here with him all night…

“I love you.” You whisper into his skin  

“I love you too.” He replies, kissing the side of your head

Jimin walks you downstairs to the exit of the motel and, he tries his best to swallow his disappointment.

Your car is in the shop so; you’ll catch the bus right up the street and, try to remind yourself why you’re working so hard.

With a tight and lingering embrace, Jimin says his goodbyes to you, pecking your lips a dozen more times.

“Text me when you get home tonight…” He requests with a soft voice and, you nod, kissing him once more before stepping outside.  

Jimin leans against the stained glass, watching you with love in his eyes as you turn to wave frantically at him.

It brings a giggle to his lips as he waves back, feeling an ache in his heart as you disappear into the crowd of people.

Jimin knows he’s never loved another person the way he loves you.

He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

But what Jimin didn’t know is that the agony of watching you leave after only a short time with him is nothing compared to the pain he has yet to endure.

Because tonight is no ordinary night.

Tonight, is the night you go missing.

Kosei Police Station, Thursday 6:24am

It’s been 54 hours since your friends heard from you.

Xander called Jimin, your emergency contact, when you didn’t show up for your shift Monday night.

The group promptly blew up your cell phone, trying any means necessary to reach you.

When there was no reply, they showed up to your apartment and much to their horror, the property manager has no recollection of you returning home.  

“How long has she been missing?”

Jimin wants to scream at the uninterested clerk behind the desk.

He wants to scream in general.

The police station should be in full chaos at the news of your absence.

They should be on the phone with every available resource, repeating your name and details over and over.

But it’s not.

It’s eerily calm and, he doesn’t understand why.

“The last time I saw her was on Monday. She was supposed to work that night but, her manager said she never showed up.”  

Jimin doesn’t recognize his own voice.

He feels like he’s outside of his body.

“Mhm…” The man drone behind the glass, casually typing a few things into the computer, “And what was her name again?”

Jimin’s blood boils over and, thank god for Namjoon because, he immediately intervenes.

“Y/N Y/L/N. She’s __ years old, she has __ hair, __ eyes and, she was last seen at the Paybrook Motel, Monday night. This isn’t like her to disappear. What is your protocol for these kinds of things?”  

The man enters the information before shrugging at Namjoon’s question, “Uh we’ll send a squad car out to do some ground work but, uh honestly most cases like these are resolved pretty quickly, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Taehyung arches a brow, leaning in towards the bulletproof glass, “You wouldn’t- you wouldn’t worry too much about it? Our best friend is missing…”

The man nods immediately, as if he’s amending his mistake, “Of course, I just mean- she’ll probably turn up you know, most people do.”

Jimin’s eyes are stinging, he’s trying his best to keep it together but, the fluorescent lights are blinding him, the stale scent of old coffee makes him want to vomit, he feels like he’s losing his mind.

“Y/N isn’t most people…” Jimin spits, his eyes honing in on the man, “She wouldn’t just vanish like this, something must have happened to her, this is an emergency. Why aren’t you sending someone out right now?”  

“Sir, this is the inner city, no offense but, people like her disappear all the time…”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, “People like her? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Jimin.” Yoongi murmurs, wrapping an arm around him and urges him away from the desk before things get out of hand.

Surprisingly, Jimin follows but, not without sending a warning glare towards the clerk.

Long story short; the police are no help.

They don’t understand the gravity of the situation.

They don’t seem to grasp the pain the seven of your friends are feeling.

Even if they did, it doesn’t appear that they would care either way.

But the thing is, your friends are used to this.

They are used to being let down by the people who they’re supposed to trust.

Their hardships cultivated a unique ability within them each of them.

And that ability was to fend for themselves.

So a plan is made to spread out and search for you on their own.  

With heavy hearts and fire running through their veins, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and, Jungkook leave their responsibilities behind to search for their best friend.

Act II- Sous La Grande Maison

Jimin- Chillzzz Ice Cream Parlor, Black Swan Brewery and Pub, Cozy Acres Retirement Home  

Thursday 7:38pm-10:01pm

Jimin spent most of the day retracing your steps like a mad man. He went back to the motel and, walked along the path you would have taken to the bus stop, he showed your photo to every person who would give him the time of day. He spoke with subway drivers, businessmen in suits, homeless people but, no one spoke up, most of them wouldn’t even look at him…

He cried beneath the awning of the motel, not even noticing the judgmental looks that were thrown his way.

For good measure, he calls you and texts you another 50 times as he tries to swallow the acidic taste of fear crawling up his throat.

Where the fuck were you?

He visits your boss at the ice cream store but, she says she hasn’t seen you since your shift Monday morning.

He makes his way to the dive bar you wait tables at but, they have the same story except they haven’t seen you since Sunday night.

Everyone at both locations says the same thing though…

“It’s so unlike her you know? To just disappear.”

“I really hope nothing happened to her.”

“Whatever you need, just let us know.”

Jimin feels like he wants to pass out.

He feels like he’s been dropped in the dead center of a nightmare.

But, he knows he has to act quickly

The city has a habit of swallowing people whole and, he’ll be damned if his girlfriend falls victim to its clutches.

He makes a final stop at the retirement home you work in to speak with Xander.

Xander shows his concern for you in a big way; it makes Jimin slightly uneasy.

“Oh my god what are we gonna do? The police aren’t on it? How are they not taking this seriously?

“Jimin, we have to find her man, I would be devastated if something happened to her.”

“She’s my best employee, she’s absolutely precious…”

Jimin has half a mind to tell him to ‘shut the fuck up’

This is his girlfriend.

His everything.

Not Xander’s.

But Jimin knows he’s sensitive right now and, Xander’s behavior is a nice change of pace.

At least he gives a shit.

With all of his leads coming up dry, he decides to visit the one person who just might be able to help.

Someone who always assured him that they would be there should he need absolutely anything.

Someone who just might have the means to operate above the incompetence of the police department.

“Come here.” Lady’s voice is tender and, reassuring as she quickly pulls Jimin into her chest.

He collapses into her arms, an abrupt sob leaving his lips as he clutches the satin of her blouse.

Lady is a special person.

Jimin started working as her pool boy just over a year ago and, she quickly welcomed him into her life.  

She was becoming the mother Jimin never had and, in this moment, in the wake of his misery, he needs her more than ever.

“I don’t understand-“ He cries into her neck, her perfume is far too strong for his liking but, he remains close to her anyway, “Where is she? She never does this, she always gets back to us I- fuck…what if something happened to her? What if someone ki- ki…oh my god.” He wants to throw up, he can’t even get the word to pass his lips because, the thought of you being harmed literally sickens him.

“Shhh shhh shh, honey it’s ok, just breathe for me alright? Just breathe…” She coos, rubbing his back gently, her face tight with sadness, “I already have my guys working on it. They got started this morning once the news broke. I’ll put flyers up at the country club as well; everyone I have at my disposal is out there looking for her alright?”

Jimin just nods, he isn’t able to say much through his tears but, her words do calm him slightly.

Lady has resources that Jimin doesn’t have and, for the first time, he is going to accept her help.

She’s offered to assist him many times in a myriad of different ways:

Rent money, tuition assistance, money for textbooks, a new car…

But Jimin’s turned them down all the same; he never wants to feel like he owes someone for something.

He accepts the free food and, the occasional fancy clothes she gifts from her deceased husbands closet and, if anyone thinks of judging him for strutting around in dead guy clothes, Jimin would promptly remind them that he is wearing Gucci and, they are not.

This time though, Jimin doesn’t protest; he will take all the help he can get from anywhere he can get it…

“Let's get you a cup of tea or something, c’mon...”  

Lady ushers Jimin to the rich color of her lignum vitae dining table and, she even ensures she pulls out a chair for him to rest easy on.  

Jimin practically slumps into it, his body helpless.

Lady already had a pot ready for him and, although Jimin tries to act like he doesn’t enjoy it, she knows Lavender is his favorite...

“The police have her vehicle information in their news report, I’ll have my guys searching for her civic in no time.” She murmurs, pouring his tea and, eyeing him carefully.

Jimin winces, watching the steam rise from his cup, trying to hold onto reality, “Her car is still in the shop.”  

“That’s right my goodness,” Lady puts a hand to her chest, shaking her head,  “Do you think the person who cut her cables had something to do with this?”  

His heart sinks but, he hesitates a moment before responding, dread filling his chest once again, “I- I don’t know maybe? It’s not impossible. It’s been in the shop for the last two months though, it wouldn’t make sense for them to wait so long. Oh god, unless they have been watching her? Do you really thinks that’s possible?”  

She brings him into her arms again, the pads of her fingers rubbing gently against his lower back, “There are sick people in this world Jimin. But I promise you honey, we are going to do everything we can to bring her home.”  

Jimin leaves Lady’s house with a slightly better outlook.

Slightly

You are still missing of course but, at least he has someone powerful on his side.

Lady is an incredible person and, without her, Jimin thinks he might lose his mind.

Jin- The Night Market, Friday 8:22pm  

You all like the rooftop for different reasons, Jin likes it for the landscape of the night market: The neon lights illuminating the different food carts, the bustling movement of all of the patrons eager to try the next deep fried delicacy. As he walks along the wet cement, he smiles to himself, remembering all the times he used to drag the seven of you down here. He always saved his tips from the restaurant, and once a month, he would splurge, buying everything in sight. The complaints would soon cease as he shoved fried cheese in your faces, the desire to eat like royalty overcoming the group. And you would, you’d eat until you couldn’t walk anymore and, Jin would feel warmth blooming in his chest as he watched all of his friends, whom were more like family, eating well. He’s the oldest, he would think, it was his job to watch over the people he loves. It’s in this moment, as he’s reminiscing that he feels despair tear through his heart.  

He had failed.  

Because, one of you were gone.  

One of you weren’t safely tucked under his mother-goose gaze.  

Your smile comes through his subconscious then and, it feels like a thousand tiny needles scurrying up his cheeks to prick at his eyes.  

You always laughed at his puns, no matter how stupid they were

You always tried whatever food he put in front of you, no matter how strange or spicy it was, you’d humor him.  

With a heavy hand, he wipes the tears from his eyes before they can spill over.  

He doesn’t have time for pain right now.  

Because, tonight he’s at the market for different reasons.  

Tonight, he was here to investigate.  

The Night Market vendors are an interesting crowd, most of them were older, just trying to make ends meet by selling their creations but, there were a few newcomers that Jin’s noticed over the years.  

They were lured in by the neon, the paper lanterns, the money…  

They didn’t understand the culture of this place and, Jin resented them for it.  

“Yah! You’re the money man yeah? Are you buying me out tonight? Where are your friends?”  

Jin is forced out of his inner thoughts and, he meets the eyes of an older gentleman who owns the Mandu stand; one of his favorites.  

“I’m not here for much tonight, my friends are busy but,” He selfishly scans the selection of dumplings, plump and ripe for the taking. He points to a pork and vegetable one to the right of the case, “I’ll take one of the pork ones for the road. Is it ok if I ask you a few questions?”  

The man wrinkles his brow in confusion, “Me? I guess so, what can I do for you?”  

With a deep sigh, Jin pulls out his phone, with a photo of you as his home screen. He swallows back the bit of misery in his throat as he sees your face, before showing it to the vendor, “This is my friend. She went missing three days ago and, she was last seen up on that rooftop over there, “ He gestures to the motel, “She left alone and, she would have walked right past here on her way home. Did you see her at all?”  

As he pushes his glasses up his nose, the man squints at the photo, trying to make sense of it. After a moment, he shakes his head.  

“Sorry. I haven’t seen her.” His eyes flit over the image again, a bit of darkness lingering in his eyes, “Pretty little thing though…”  

Jin immediately rips his phone from the man’s view, disgusted at his comment but, he doesn’t want to make a scene and risk his line of information being cut off.  

“Thanks. If you remember anything let me know. I’ll be around for a bit.”  

He grunts in response, his interest waning as another customer walks up to his stand.  

Jin feels an immense amount of frustration; why the fuck does this man think its ok to gawk at you despite what he’s just told him?  

Does he have no heart?  

Raking his hand through his hair, Jin takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have time for his emotions right now, he needs to push forward.  

He moves throughout the stands, showing your picture to every familiar face that will give him the time of day.  

The chorus of no’s that echo back at him, slowing chip away at his resolve and, he feels himself growing desperate as he nears the end of the market.  

He hates how suspicious he feels.  

He hates that this place, which is home to so many happy memories, is now shrouded with a kind of darkness that he’s only ever read about in books.  

He feels sick with the thought of coming back without you; he doesn’t think he ever would.  

There is a few stands left, which Jin moves through without success before he finally reaches the Tteokbokki stand.  

It’s his favorite and, normally he’d be shoveling an entire tray of it into his mouth.  

But tonight, the smell of the sauce makes his stomach turn.  

“Excuse me, have you-“ Jin begins wearily but, he’s quickly cut off by the man beneath the umbrella.  

“You’re here about the missing girl right?”  

The man’s brow rises but, it does nothing to smooth out the valleys of wrinkles between his eyes.  

“I am…” Jin crosses his arms, reluctant to continue the conversation as the man smirks salaciously in his direction, “How did you know?”  

His smirk grows when he holds up a yellow walkie-talkie, “Word travels fast. I’m guessing you’re here to ask me if I’ve seen her and, I would tell you that I have but, unless you have something to offer me. I’m afraid that’s all I plan on telling you.”  

Jin’s face immediately flushes red. Anger floats up beneath the surface of his surprise but, he knows that if he reacts in the way he that wants to, the man will shut down.  

“What do you want?” He mutters through the tension in his jaw.  

The man’s gaze travels over Jin’s figure before settling on the pocket of his jeans, “Buy me out for the night and, I’ll tell you what I saw...”  

A quick scan of his cart shows Jin roughly 3 dozen trays of Tteokbokki. Even if he had an appetite, he doesn’t have the stomach or the means to consume that much food, nor does he have a way to get it back to his apartment.  

“How much is your cart worth?”  

The man tilts his head, squinting his eyes in thought, “Well, its 3 for a tray and there’s 47 on the cart…you do the math.”  

Jin finally does send a glare towards the man; enraged that he’s capitalizing off of his grief but, he types in the calculations none the less.  

“$141…” He concludes, showing him the number on his cell phone, “I don’t have that much.”  

With a shrug, the man gives Jin a look of faux disappointment, “That’s a shame, I guess my memory is a little hazy then. Maybe I saw her, maybe I didn’t-  have a good night.”  

“Wait- please I…” Jin takes a deep breath, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, “I only have $100 right now but, I can get more. I work at the sushi restaurant up the street, I’ll bring you all of my tips for the next week.”  

The man eyes him suspiciously, mulling over his offer, “The next two weeks…”  

Jin’s never been so angry in his life and, part of him wants to flip over his cart and, leave him to clean up the mess but, he knows he has to bargain with him.  

He has no other choice.  

“Fine.” He throws the money onto the counter with a stern look, “Keep the food, just tell me what you know.”  

The man takes his time, counting the money greedily, smirking with satisfaction as he tucks it into his shirt pocket.  

“I saw your friend leaving that motel you always hang out at. The one across the street-“ He nods to the ratty building, “She left and walked along the road for some time before a man approached her.”  

Jin’s heart picks up, “A man? What man? What did he look like?”  

“I didn’t get a close look. He was tall and dressed in some fancy ass suit. They walked together all the way up the road until I couldn’t see them anymore. She didn’t look uncomfortable; in fact…it kind of looked like she knew him.”  

As the man tells his story, Jin writes all of the details down in his phone but, the last bit confuses him.  

He didn’t know you knew anyone that owned a suit.  

Suits are a luxury that neither he nor any of the other guys can afford.  

So who were you with then?  

“That’s all? Anything else you remember?”  

The man shakes his head, “That’s all I got for you. Thanks for the cash, I look forward to seeing you again with the rest of it.”  

A chorus of snickering comes with his last comment and, Jin finally decides he’s had enough of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, he walks away, leaving the hustle and bustle of the night market to slowly fade behind him as he makes his way up the street.  

He begins typing a message to the group chat, informing everyone of what he found.  

He sees your icon at the top of his screen whilst he does and, it triggers the tears collecting in his eyes to finally spill over.  

Namjoon- The Marquee River, Friday 9:54pm  

Namjoon loves the rooftop for the view of the river. He loves the way the sun and moon expertly change the color of its surface from a crystal blue in the daytime to an inky black in the evening. He loves the way people congregate around it. It’s such a stark contradiction to the city. Everyone always looks so happy and so patient with one another. Families are sprawled out on picnic blankets, friends are laughing and sharing homemade dishes, lovers walk along the river holding hands…  

It’s a magical place.  

Well, at least Namjoon thinks so.  

The boys tease him for it, they call him Namstradamus and, say he concerns himself with hypothetical situations far too often.  

But you get it though.  

You’ve sat with Namjoon on many nights while he smokes a cigarette, watching the interactions with the same fondness he does.  

You laughed as he did little voices for the people he saw and, listened eagerly as he created stories for each of them.  

You told him he should be a writer and Namjoon felt a satisfaction that his imagination could entertain you.  

Deep down, being a writer is something he’s always dreamed of.  

He wishes he was on the rooftop with you now, laughing and bullshitting.  

He wishes he could see your smile when Jimin shouts a raunchy compliment your way and, makes a comment about how Namjoon is trying to steal you from him.  

Its all for fun though.  

Namjoon doesn’t love you like that but, the way he loves you makes tonight’s task so much harder.  

He loves you like a sister and, his sister is gone.  

Vanished.  

And he has to figure out why.  

Namjoon is wearing his father’s coat; it’s the only thing warm enough for this weather he tells himself but, really he wears it because it’s the nicest thing in his home.  

It makes him feel capable, even though he’s never felt more inadequate in his life.  

There isn’t many people left at the river tonight, the cold weather is keeping everyone inside along with the news of your disappearance.  

Namjoon has someone in mind though.  

Someone who is always here: the groundskeeper.  

Namjoon notices him emerge as people begin packing up their things but, he doesn’t approach him just yet.  

He stands back and observes his behavior, carefully planning what he needs to say.  

But, Namjoon doesn’t get much time as the groundskeeper has noticed him too.  

“What is it you seek madam? I can do anything…anything you wish.”  

The voice of the groundskeeper is ominous; it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention but, his words confuse him even more.  

“Uh excuse me, I’m really sorry to bother you but, I was wondering if you’ve seen my friend. She went missing a few nights ago, I have her picture here…” Namjoon goes to pull out his phone but, the man stops him with a laugh.  

It’s not a pleasant sound, it’s crazed and dismissive, it doesn’t mirror the laughter he normally hears from the river.  

It makes his stomach turn.  

“I know what the princess looks like madam, I’ve seen her looking down at me many times.” The moonlight shines upon his face then and, it’s enough for Namjoon to make out his features.  

He looks filthy, skin alight with grease, hair matted with the same substance, his eyes are blue and unfocused. A giant scar interrupts his features and, Namjoon does his best to remain composed despite his appearance.  

“So have you seen her? She would have walked right passed here on her way home.” He flashes the picture towards him anyway but, it only prompts another ridiculous laugh from him and, Namjoon feels himself growing irritated.  

“Yep! That’s the one! The princess marked for slaughter, oh but she runs from her fate doesn’t she? She runs and runs and runs runs…..she runs a lot. It’s no use madam, you’ll always catch her in the end.”  

As he hears the word slaughter, Namjoon feel his blood boil over and, he quickly grabs the snickering man by his shirt, “What the fuck are you talking about?”  

The man falters with a gasp but, his laughter continues, his breath fowl and unkempt, “She is gone forever. Left to destiny…left to rot…”  

Namjoon feels his heart jump in his chest and he tugs at the man’s shirt again, harder this time, “What do you mean gone? Did you do something to her? If you touched her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you, my friends and I will tear you apart!”  

Tears don’t aid in Namjoon’s attempt to look tough but, he can’t help himself.  

His grief is unbearable and, all this man can do is laugh…  

“I have nothing for you madam…what’s done is done.” He seethes, bearing his grimy teeth as he smiles  

“Why do you keep calling me madam? You know who I am, you’ve seen my friends before. What the fuck is wrong with you?”  

The man responds by placing a dirty hand against Namjoon’s cheek, leaning in towards his ear, “You are…a work of art madam, it was a pleasure to serve you…”  

With this, the man shoves away from Namjoon’s hold and rushes back to the trashcan, muttering to himself all the while.  

Namjoon feels unsafe around him, especially as he notices how empty the river has become so, he decides to get out of there.  

He wipes his tears as he moves through the trees back towards the noise of the street.  

There is nothing but utter anguish inside of him now.  

One of his best friends is missing and, his only lead is a raging lunatic.  

He sends his findings to the group chat anyway, praying that someone has more information than he does, praying that this nightmare will come to an end. 

 Yoongi- Ginseng Night Club, Saturday 12:04am,  

Yoongi hates clubs. There’s too many people, they’re too loud, everyone is drunk and stupid. He doesn’t really see the point in them. However, Ginseng has a vibe he can appreciate. It’s a little more laid back, a little less expensive and, it’s major upside is its showcase of underground rappers. Yoongi’s never had the courage to get up on stage but, he likes to listen from the rooftop. He judges the contestants from a far because, let’s face it, most of them are trash but, he enjoys their enthusiasm. Some of them are actually pretty good though and, a lot of times Yoongi has to swallow the avarice he feels when he hears them. He can rap too but, the only people who know about it are his friends.  

They tell him he’s good enough to make it big but, Yoongi never believes them.  

He misses freestyling on the rooftop though and, tonight he’s missing your reactions in particular.  

You were always pushing him to perform and one day, drunkenly, you had managed to convince him to promise you that he’d perform at Ginseng on his 26th birthday.  

That date is steadily approaching and, although he was terrified of keeping that promise, he desperately wishes that were the reason he was pushing through the crowd at Ginseng right now.  

But it isn’t…  

Tonight, he’s here to deal with bleaker matter: your disappearance.  

Ginseng is cheaper for a reason and, that reason happens to be the crowd.  

It’s known for its cast of shady characters: drug dealers, con artists, underground fighters, etc.  

He thinks it’s a little pointless, walking into a room full of potential criminals, hoping one of them has the heart to spill any information regarding his missing friend but, he had to try.  

Yoongi decided on all black for the evening; it makes him feel bigger and, prepares him for the onslaught of human interaction he’s dreading.  

Immediately, his chest is met with the hammering base from the speakers, whilst his nose is met with the stench of cheap liquor and, all eyes are on him.  

He’s an unfamiliar face in a club that profits off of regular attendees but, he swallows his anxiety and, soldiers on, heading straight for the bar at the back of the club.  

“What can I get for you?” A short haired woman barks over the music,  sending a mild glare Yoongi’s way.  

He notices the tattoos adorning her neck and arms and, he feels intimidated by her presence but, he responds none the less.  

“Whiskey neat.” He mutters, sliding a ten her way and, she eagerly strips it from the counter, shoving it into the register.  

“You’ve never been here before.” She notes dryly, grabbing a bottle of Jack from the shelf.  

Yoongi nods, shifting on the barstool, “Yeah, I’m here to see if anyone’s seen my friend. She disappeared on this street the other night…”  

The woman smirks, nodding her head towards the crowd of people, “Do these people look like they’d be up for snitching?”  

He glances back momentarily, “No but, I thought I’d try anyway. I have a picture of her…” He pulls out his phone, flashing the image of you towards the bartender.  

She gives it a once over before shaking her head, “Haven’t seen her. I’d remember her if I had. Girlfriend?”  

“No…” He clicks the side of his phone, shutting the screen off, “Do you know if I could talk to someone who comes here a lot? Like a regular or something? I’m not trying to cause trouble but-“  

“These people aren’t gonna tell you shit unless you speak to Jaebeom first and, I don’t know if he’d be willing to talk to scrawny little thing like you.”  

Yoongi has to swallow back the feelings he gets from her insult, feeling smaller and smaller under her gaze.  

“Who’s Jaebeom?”  

“The owner.” She pushes the drink Yoongi’s way, spilling some of it onto the dirty countertop, “He only does business in Korean…”  

“Call him up then,” Yoongi retorts sternly, growing annoyed with her attitude and the carelessness with his liquor, “, that’s my native language. Or tell me where he is…”  

“He’s a busy man… I don’t know if he’ll have time for you…”                  

“Ask him anyways.”  

There’s a bit of a stare off lingering between the two of them but, Yoongi doesn’t falter, his confidence waxing.  

He’ll be a dick if he has to, he doesn’t care; he has to figure out where you are.  

She rolls her eyes, grabbing the receiver from underneath the bar before muttering something into it. Something causes her to raise her brows in surprise and, she looks a little disappointed as she passes the receiver to Yoongi.  

He takes it, holding it up to his ear,  

“What do you want?”  

Moving the receiver to his lips, he responds clearly, trying to mask his nerves, “My friend is missing and, I want to know if you’ve seen her. Or if you know anything about her disappearance.”  

The man chuckles deeply on the other end of the line, “Am I a suspect?”  

“Everyone is. But I’m not a cop; I’m just here to see if anyone has seen anything.”  

“And the police? Do they know about your little friend?”  

Yoongi grasps the receiver firmer, attempting to amp up his toughness as he responds, “The police are fucking useless. Look, just let me show you here picture, if you haven’t seen her, I’ll leave.”  

There’s only a bit of silence but, it’s enough to get his heart racing before he finally gets a reply, “Second floor, room 632. Don’t make me wait for you.”  

Yoongi obliges, pounding his drink and rushing off to meet the man behind the voice.  

Jaebeom seems to tower over Yoongi despite the mere inches he has on him and, he looks more intimidating than Yoongi ever could.  

Three facial piercings, arms wrapped completely in tattoos, loose tank top adorning his muscular figure; if Yoongi were in a different world, he’d be wishing he was meeting this stranger in his room for different reasons.  

“Let’s see it then…”  

Yoongi shows him the photo of you and much to his surprise, Jaebeom nods, pointing a finger towards it, “I’ve seen her before, not recently though. She came in a few months ago and bought a bottle of Midori from me. She’s your girlfriend?”  

Yoongi shakes his head, “No, she’s with my other friend but, you’ve seen her? Did she come in alone?”  

The room smells of marijuana and as Jaebeom lifts a joint to his lips, Yoongi can see why.  

He nods, blowing out a billow of smoke, careless to where it ends up, “She was alone yes, I didn’t speak to her much. She was polite, left me a tip, batted her eyes a bit and left. She’s cute, it’s a shame she’s taken.” He smirks, lifting the joint to his mouth again, “Both literally and figuratively….”  

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, attempting to calm down, “You haven’t seen her since?”  

“No. Honestly, why are you here? Do you really think my guys are into kidnapping? There are plenty of hot woman downstairs. No one is looking to steal. You’re on the wrong side of town for this shit. “  

“What do you mean?”  

“I mean,” Jaebeom flicks the ash onto the floor, nodding to the window beside him, “You should be asking questions in the Upside. They hunt poor bitches like that for sport.”  

Yoongi’s anger floods his brain before he can process everything he’s said, “Watch your mouth. She has a name and, I suggest you learn it before I-“  

With a puffed out chest, Jaebeom steps toward Yoongi, “Before what huh?”  

Yoongi moves back, shaking his head, “Nothing I-“ He sighs, holding his hands up, “I’m sorry. I’m angry, its been a long week. My friends and I just want her home.”  

Jaebeom deflates a bit, scanning over the smaller man in front of him, “My sister disappeared two years ago. Same street. Like I said,” Jaebum plops down in his arm chair, sadness flashes through his eyes, “You’re in the wrong part of town…”  

He nods, biting his lip at Jaebeom’s admission, “Did they ever find her?”  

“They might have…” He takes a hit of the joint, blowing it out with a scoff, “if they fucking looked.”  

Yoongi’s blood runs cold then, seeing the similarities between the two situations.  

No one cares about the people who disappear from this part of town.  

He leaves Jaebeom’s room, feeling worse than when he had arrived but, he reports his findings to the group chat anyway.  

Maybe Jaebeom was right, maybe him and his friends were looking on the wrong side of town…  

Jungkook and Hoseok- The Paybrook Motel, Saturday 7:07am  

Jungkook and Hoseok are newer to the harshness of the city. They come from sweet families, with good intentions. The lack of financial resources is compensated with a lot of love and encouragement. Their lives were similar: simple and sweet. They didn’t have too many run ins with childhood trauma or absent parental figures; they loved their home life, probably to a fault.  But given their lack of money and their love of their friends, they also found reasons to love the rooftop. Hoseok uses the concrete as an affordable practice space and Jungkook uses the view as the main muse for his photography.  

You’re running through their head as they approach the motel.  

Hoseok feels a pang of sadness in his chest as he remembers all the times you would cheer him on from your lawn chair, calling him the b-boy of the year, smiling from ear to ear even when he fucks up his choreography.  

Jungkook remembers showing you an album he made of the summer the eight of you had. He remembers you growing teary eyed as he neared the end and, telling him what an amazing photographer he was. He swallows back his tears, gripping Hoseok’s hand as they approach the entrance to the motel, taking a deep breath.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t-” Hoseok looks uneasily toward their connected hands, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “I just don’t want them to say anything to you.”  

Jungkook looks down, his chestnut irises narrowed in confusion, “But, we’re just friends hyung...”  

Hoseok nods, sending a sweet smile towards his pure friend, “I know Kook but, they don’t know that. I promise I’ll hold it as soon we leave ok?”  

And Jungkook really has to act like this doesn’t further his misery, sniffling once as he finally nods, pulling away from his best friend, naïve to his reasons for ending their platonic affection.  

Hoseok pats his arm before swinging open the stained-glass door to the motel, allowing Jungkook to step in front of him.  

There is a woman sitting behind the counter, staring intently at her computer screen, not even bothering to look up at the two men that have just entered.  

“Good morning.” Hoseok sends a watery smile her way, which she doesn’t reciprocate.  

In fact, she doesn’t even look his way but, instead she shoves a piece of paper across the wooden countertop, “Fill this out, there’s only two rooms available- “ At this point, she does eye the two of them with a judging glance, “single beds only.”  

“We don’t need a room mam we-” Hoseok begins, feeling rather annoyed but, Jungkook cuts him off and, practically shoves his phone over the counter.  

“This is our friend, her name is Y/N and, she went missing four days ago and, the last place we saw her is here. Have you seen her? Do you remember if anything suspicious happened?”  

Jungkook’s voice is reedy, full of desperation to the point that he grows a little out of breath.  

Hoseok had a plan with a little more finesse but, he knows how desperate Jungkook is to find you.  

He feels the same way...  

The woman looks affronted by his sudden outburst but, she glances at his phone anyway. It’s only for a moment before she brings her attention Hoseok’s way, not bothering to address Jungkook.  

“Nope. I’ve never seen her, sorry.”  

The dismissiveness in her tone surprises Hoseok. He was expecting her to keep her responses to a minimum but, her lie takes him back.  

“Wait are you serious? I live on the 8th floor, my friends come in here all the time. There’s no way you’ve never seen her before.”  

He steps closer to the counter and, the way the woman looks up stirs something inside of him.  

It’s unsettling and insidious.  

It’s as if she’s deceiving them and, she wants them to know she’s deceiving them.  

“I’ve seen you here before,” She shrugs, conceding with part of his point, “but I’ve never seen her. Although, I’m surprised she doesn’t rent a room here too, she looks like the type.”  

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hoseok feels the venom in his tone and, although it’s unlike him to lose his temper, something about this woman enrages him.  

“Hyung please...” Jungkook’s soft plea paired with a hand to his lower back is enough for Hoseok to back down for the moment but, his nerves are still alight with suspicion. “Mam, we’re really sorry, we’re just worried about our friend. She’s been missing for a while and the police aren’t really doing anything. Are you sure that you’ve never seen her?”  

The woman seems to soften a bit momentarily but, as something on her computer seems to move suddenly into her view, she toughens up again, shaking her head.  

“Never. Is there anything else we- I can do for you?”  

Hoseok grits his teeth, restraining his urges to throw her glass of iced tea into her face.  

“No, I guess not.”  

She offers a thin smile, that doesn’t reach her eyes, “Have a nice day then. Thank you for visiting The Paybrook Motel.”  

Before Hoseok can throw an insult her way, Jungkook offers a pleasant goodbye before practically dragging his hyung out of the lobby.  

“Yah! Why were you so easy on her? She’s obviously lying! Did you see the look on her face? She knows something Jungkook, I’m telling you she does...” Hoseok is ablaze with frustration, moving quickly to the end of the awning that decorates the front of the motel.  

He’s waiting for Jungkook to join him but, instead he sees his friend moving aimlessly towards him, tears in his eyes.  

The sight makes Hoseok’s heart ache.  

“Hyung...don’t you get it? No one wants to help us.” His voice is wavering through his sadness, doing it’s best to keep afloat, “Even if she knows something, she doesn’t want to tell us. The police won’t help, the signs we put up are all in the sewer by now- no one gives a shit that she’s gone.”  

At this moment, Jungkook breaks down, his tears finally streaming down his face. He stops in the middle of the walkway, disregarding the confused looks from the patrons heading into the building.  

“Shit Kookie, don’t cry ok?”  

Hoseok rushes over to him in the midst of his hypocrisy, because he’s crying too.  

He hasn’t cried since you disappeared but, seeing his best friend break down and, knowing that life would never again be the same crushes him in a way he can’t handle.  

“Come here...come here. Hyung is here ok? Ok? We gotta pull it together.” He sniffles, pulling Jungkook into his arms, placing a kiss on top of his head.  

Jungkook doesn’t let up and, continues to cry silently into Hoseok’s t-shirt.  

“I just want her to come home hyung...”  

Hoseok nods immediately, tilting his head back to slow his tears. It’s a useless endeavor but, he tries anyway until a man’s voice interrupts their moment.  

“I saw her.”  

Hoseok and Jungkook are quick to pull away, turning their attention towards the voice in question.  

It’s obvious the man is a security guard of some kind but, Hoseok has never seen him before.  

“Excuse me?”  

The man nods to the rooftop, “I saw your friend the night she left here.”  

Hoseok approaches the man, noticing the way he seems to shrink away from his presence, “What did you see? Did you see anyone with her?”  

He nods, “Yeah, that small dude you hang out with, the messy hair...he was wearing a yellow shirt?”  

Jungkook moves to stand behind Hoseok, “That’s her boyfriend. He’s one of our friends too, he walked her out that night. He came right back up though, did you see anyone else?”  

The security guard smirks, “Hm that’s interesting.”  

Hoseok narrows his eyes, “Why?”  

The guard nods to the street parallel to the conversation, “Because she met up with someone else...”  

Jungkook and Hoseok make eye contact then, a bit of shock running through them.  

“Who was it?”  

The guard chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, his indifference insulting the two of them, “Listen, I’m new around here alright?  I don’t know names or shit like that, I just know that after your friend was kissing on one guy, she met up with some dude in a suit, you can do with that what you will but, that’s all I got for you.”  

“Jin hyung said something about a suit too.” Jungkook mutters beside Hoseok prompting a nod from him.  

“Thank you. We appreciate it and, uh listen if you hear or see anything else. I’m on the 8th floor. Room 26.”  

The guard nods, tipping his hat toward the both of them, “Will do. Be safe out there, this city is uh, an interesting place.”  

As the man moves back towards the motel Jungkook turns to Hoseok, bewildered by the information they’ve received.  

“Hyung do you-” Jungkook hesitates, the words not wanting to leave his tongue, “-do you think she left on her own? She wouldn’t do that right?”  

Hoseok keeps an eye on the guard as he disappears behind the stained glass, a sick feeling looming in his stomach.  

“No Jungkook, she wouldn’t.”  

Taehyung- La Petite Galerie, Saturday 12:46pm  

Taehyung's been painting since he was a child. Adopted into a French family, he learned his two favorite crafts from an early age: painting and charisma. He was the star of his elementary school, wooing his classmates with the use of his second language and, wooing his teachers with his painting abilities. Consistently, he placed first in his school’s art fair. He was labeled as a prodigy and, selected for all of the finest performing arts schools in the city. However, prestigious art schools come at a price his family couldn’t afford. So, he had to stay behind with the rest of his classmates, whilst his parents begin saving money. He’s so thankful that he did though because, high school is where he met his second family. The family who he’s met on the rooftop since he was 15 years old, the family who’s helped him through his darkest days, the family who’s recently been torn apart...  

He’s missing you as he walks into the gallery.  

It’s one of his favorite parts about the rooftop along with the view of the city skyline.  

You and Taehyung have sat together many times, admiring the well-dressed people walking into the gallery.  

You would always say that they were simply apart of a different world and, that you never hated them for their riches.  

Taehyung admired that about you because, he wishes he could say the same.  

But, he knows he’d be lying.  

One day, Taehyung had been brave enough to come into the gallery and, he actually made friends with the owner.  

Taehyung makes friends with everyone.  

But this woman, Clementine, had a particular soft spot for his French abilities and, gave Taehyung discounted admission for all of his friends.  

Eventually, Taehyung brought the eight of you in with him and, much to his surprise, you all enjoyed yourselves.  

He remembers that day as he steps under the warm glow of the gallery lights...  

Jin made puns about the paintings  

Namjoon endlessly dissected the potential meanings behind them  

Yoongi had admired them quietly, murmuring observations that no one could hear  

Hoseok laughed way too loud at the statue bestowing a marble penis  

Jungkook kept to Taehyung’s side as he expertly explained the stories behind the artwork  

But the image that hurts Taehyung the most is the way you looked at Jimin as he stared in awe up at the paintings.  

Taehyung had never seen someone so enamored with another person before and, he realized why so many artists use love as their muse.  

He felt happiness in his heart that you and Jimin were so happy, so much so, that he didn’t even bother thinking of his own romantic future.  

He was content.  

His family was here, admiring art in their own way, just as it was intended.  

A bit of panic rushes through him at the thought of never having you all together again.  

But determination comes along with it, reminding him why he’s visiting the gallery today.  

“Excusez-moi, j'ai rendez-vous avec Clémentine aujourd'hui (Excuse me, I have an appointment with Clementine today).”  

The woman behind the ivory desk smiles pleasantly at him, “Ah oui Monsieur Kim, asseyez-vous et je sais qu'elle est arrivée.” (Ah yes, Mr. Kim, have a seat and I’ll let her know you’ve arrived)  

He bows his head slightly, sending a tight-lipped smile her way, “Merci.” (Thank you)  

Taehyung takes a seat on the upholstered chairs near the entrance, thankful that the crowd level is mild today. It’s unexpected for a Saturday but, he doesn’t complain, he doesn’t think he can handle excessive human interaction.  

He waits for roughly 10 minutes before a nimble woman with auburn hair comes bustling out of the back room, arms opening wide as soon as she sees him.  

“Taehyung, ma chérie viens ici, viens à Clémentine...” (Taehyung, my darling come here, come to Clementine)  

Her pink lipstick accentuates the pout in her lips as she ushers Taehyung into a tight hug, her fake breasts providing very little comfort but, he accepts her affection anyway.  

He needs it.  

“Bonjour Clementine, (Hello Clementine)” He pats her hips respectively, smiling warmly as he pulls away, “Merci de me rencontrer... (Thanks for meeting me).”  

She scoffs, waving him off as she eagerly pulls him into her office, “Non-sens, je n'accepterai pas de gratitude de votre part pendant cette période.” (Nonsense, I will not except gratitude from you during this time)  

Taehyung offers her a half smile, adjusting his coat and stepping through the archway.  

Clementine’s office is tasteful, covered in various shades of pink and her most favorite pieces she’s hand-picked from the gallery.  

It’s a little loud for Taehyung but, he agrees that it’s uniquely Clementine and, he feels content enough in her presence to deal with it.  

She rushes around her desk, plopping down on her pearl encrusted office chair, “Asseyez-vous ici mon doux garçon...” (Sit here my sweet boy)  

Her face stays firm with pity as she places her manicured fingers on the marble, “Dis-moi, ont-ils entendu quelque chose?” (Tell me, have they heard anything?)  

Taehyung left posters at the gallery the day after you went missing and, Clementine was all too eager to post them all over the building’s exterior.  

He shakes his head, settling into the crushed velvet beneath him, “Non. La police n'a rien. J'ai peur qu'ils ne la recherchent même pas.” (No. The police have nothing. I’m afraid they aren’t even looking for her.)  

With a tsk of her lips, Clementine shakes her head, “Inutile.” (Useless) She spits the word, leaning back into her chair, “Avez-vous trouvé quelque chose? Je sais que tu as dit que tes amis regardaient.” (Have you found anything? I know you said your friends were looking)  

“Nous avons entendu quelques choses, mais nous n'avons pas encore beaucoup de pistes. On se retrouve demain soir pour faire un plan.” (We’ve heard a few things but, we don’t have many leads. We meet tomorrow evening to make a plan.) He feels the disappointment in his heart, wishing he was giving her a different answer, his predicament leaving him helpless.  

“Desole.” (Sorry) She replies, pouting her lips and tucking her auburn hair behind her ear, “C'est dégoûtant de voir comment cette ville est dirigée.” (It’s disgusting how this city is run.)  

A humorless laugh leaves Taehyung’s lip as he nods, “Oui. Oui ça l’est. C'est pourquoi je suis venu vers toi clémentine.” (Yes. Yes it is. That’s why I came to you Clementine.)  

She looks a little flustered by his comment, scooting closer to the edge of her seat, placing a hand to her chest, “Moi? Qu'est-ce que tu as besoin de moi?” (Me? What do you need from me?)  

Taehyung feels a little dirty at his next move but, he does it without a second thought.  

Smiling, he extends a hand towards Clementine, catching her gaze with his, “Nous venons de mondes différents oui?” (We come from different worlds, yes?)  

Against her better judgement, Clementine places her hand timidly atop Taehyungs, nearly shuddering at his warmth, “Oui, mais ça n'a pas d'importance.” (Yes but, that doesn’t matter)  

Taehyung pretends to be surprised by her answer, “Non? Pouvez-vous voir au-delà de cela?” (No? Can you see beyond that?)  

She leans towards his voice, allured by the way it caramelizes in the air around her, “Je ne vois pas ces choses. L'argent, la couleur, l'âge, ce n'est pas important.” (I don’t see these things. Money, color, age, they aren’t important)  

If he were in a different situation, he would notice the ignorance in her statement. But instead, he begins rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles, smiling prettily all the while.  

Clementine is melting beneath his touch, her body subconsciously slouching in her chair.  

“Vous vous souciez de moi malgré ces choses, n'est-ce pas?” (You care for me despite those things, don’t you?)  

Eagerly, she nods, licking her lips before tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, “Oui mon amour.” (Yes my love.)  

Taehyung  leans closer to her, mustering up the best smolder he can manage, “J'ai besoin de savoir ce que vous entendez dans votre monde chéri.” (I need to know what you hear in that world of yours darling.)  

Bless her, Clementine really is doomed.  

“Mon monde? Que voulez-vous dire?” (My world? What do you mean?)  

Taehyung delights in her confusion, taking a moment to seal the deal as he raises her knuckles to his lips, “Vous êtes au country club de Chamomile oui?” (You are in the Chamomile Country Club yes?)  

As he asks his question, he presses a few kisses to her skin, keeping eye contact with her all the while.  

Clementine lets out a shaky breath, placing her free hand to her chest, “Mon dieu...” (My god...) She mutters under her breath, fanning herself before responding to his original question, “Oui, Je suis.” (Yes, I am)  

He grins, still kissing over the expanse of her knuckles, “Dites-moi, entendez-vous quelque chose d'étrange lorsque vous assistez?” (Tell me, do you hear anything strange when you attend?)  

“Étrange?” (Strange?)  

“Oui, etrange. Quelque chose que vous n'êtes pas censé entendre.” (Yes, strange. Something you are not supposed to hear.)  

Clementine’s eyes shoot back and forth across the room, looking unsure of her response, “Mon amour, tu sais que je veux t'aider mais je déteste les potins. C'est désagréable.” (My love, I really want to help you but, I hate to gossip. It’s distasteful)

Taehyung pretends to smile fondly at her, stopping at her middle finger, dragging his lips up the length of it, “Il n'y a rien de désagréable chez toi bébé.” (There is nothing distasteful about baby) As he gets to the base of her hand, he parts both her middle and ring finger before licking right between the two digits suggestively, “En fait, je parie que vous avez un goût incroyable.” (In fact, I bet you taste incredible)

Clementine’s pink lipstick is smudging with the amount of times she’s licked her lips but, she does it again anyway for good measure.

“Vous avez une langue en argent Taehyung, prévoyez-vous de l'utiliser sur moi?” (You have a silver tongue Taehyung, do you plan to use it on me?)

The deep timbre of his chuckle sends goosebumps up Clementine’s spine and, her body is stretched across her marble desk in a rather uncomfortable way but, she doesn’t care.

All she wants is Taehyung.

“Voici ma proposition: vous utilisez votre langue pour parler et quand vous aurez terminé, j'utiliserai la mienne pour goûter.  Comment cette sonne?” (Here is my proposal: you will use your tongue to speak and, when you are done. I will use mine to taste, how does that sound?)

Clementine’s legs part subconsciously beneath her desk, the pink satin of her underwear stained with her arousal.

With her hand still in Taehyung’s grip she clears her throat, tilting her head innocently, “Le Country Club, que tu dis?” (The country club, you say?)

Taehyung smirks, sending a nod her way, “Oui.” (Yes)

“Je me souviens avoir entendu quelque chose de mal le mois dernier.” (I do remember hearing something wrong last month)

He kisses the back of her hand sweetly before returning it to the desk and, allowing her the proper head space to recall information.

Because, who in their right mind would be able to tell a story whilst Taehyung was kissing on them like that?

Clementine seems to deflate a bit, attempting to compose herself as Taehyung gestures for her to continue.

“Quand j'étais dans le salon de thé, je pouvais entendre les costumes parler de quelque chose qui me faisait un peu peur.” (When I was in the tea room, I could hear the suits talking about something that scared me a little)

Taehyung’s brows furrow, “Les costumes?” (The suits?)

She nods, biting her lip in hesitation, “Oui, c'est ce que les membres appellent les propriétaires du country club.” (Yes, this is what the members call the owners of the country club)

He’s watching her intently, nodding as she explains, “Qu'est-ce que tu as entendu?” (What did you hear?)

She seems to crumble under his gaze like a paper swan; torn between her desire to please him and her desire to remain proper.

“Mon amour, c'est vraiment une chose terrible…” (My love, it’s really a terrible thing…)

Taehyung’s quick on his feet, taking her hand yet again, throwing a yearning look in her direction, “Clémentine, s'il vous plaît ... mon cher ami est absent. Vous pourriez être le seul espoir que mes frères et moi ayons pour la ramener à la maison en toute sécurité. Quand elle reviendra, je te couvrirai de mille baisers pour te remercier de ce que tu as fait.” (Clementine, please…my dear friend is absent. You could be the only hope that my brothers and I have for bringing her home safely. When she returns, I’ll cover you with a thousand kisses to thank you for what you have done)

Clementine sighs dreamily, her hand limp in his grip, her legs parting further at the baritone in his voice,

“Un millier?” (A thousand?)

Taehyung gives her a thin smile, “Un millier. Maintenant s'il te plait, ma rose, dis moi ce que tu as entendu.” (A thousand. Now please, my rose, tell me what you heard)

Clementine shrinks again, looking warily around the room before she finally answers, “Je les ai entendus parler de meurtre.” (I heard them talking about murder)

It’s then Taehyung feels the hot fiery sting of fear stabbing its way into his gut, “Meurtre?” (Murder?)

She senses his uneasiness so; she tightens her grip on his hand as she continues, “Ils ont dit qu'ils prenaient le travail d'un homme important qui allait au-delà de ce qu'ils avaient fait auparavant. Ils étaient inquiets de se faire prendre.” (They said they were taking a job from an important man that went above and beyond anything they’ve done before. They were worried about getting caught)

Taehyung shakes his head in disgust, hoping desperately that you aren’t connected to the conversation she heard.

“Quoi d'autre?” (What else?)

Clementine shakes her head, “C'est tout ce que j'ai pu entendre, mon thé est arrivé pendant leur conversation.” (That’s all I could hear, my tea arrived during their conversation)

Taehyung holds back his anger as he’s reminded of the kind of person Clementine really is.

She’s sweet sure but, she’s tragically selfish.

She’s well off and, only cares for matters that concern her; otherwise she is uninterested.

All he can muster is a tight lipped smile as he suddenly stands from the crushed velvet, “Je vois. Merci de votre temps, appelez-moi si vous vous souvenez d'autre chose.” (I see. Thank you for your time, please call me if you remember anything else)

Clementine rises with him, rushing around her desk, “Tu es en train de partir? Je pensais que tu resterais un moment, tu ne devrais pas être seule en ce moment chérie.” (You’re leaving? I thought you would stay a while, you shouldn’t be alone now honey)

Taehyung gives her the fakest smile he can muster, brushing his thumb across her rubbery cheek, “Je reviendrai te voir. Merci pour votre aide, vous êtes un saint.” (I’ll come back and see you. Thank you for your help, you’re a saint)

She rubs her face against his hand like a cat in heat and, whines for him in a similar fashion, “Mon dieu, nous sommes comme Romeo et Juliette…” (My god, we are like Romeo and Juliet…)

He’s disgusted by her lack of awareness but, he plays the part anyway, tucking a finger underneath her chin, “La séparation est une si douce douleur.” (Parting is such sweet sorrow)

With a brush of his lips against hers, he quickly departs, leaving Clementine alone with her desire.

Taehyung rushes through the afternoon crowd of the gallery, feeling grateful for the crisp air that greets him when he pushes the doors open.

His mind is racing; this is the third mention of the suits and, although it isn’t much, it’s the only solid lead the seven of them have.

They need to re-group as soon as possible because, the likelihood that they fill find you alive wanes with each hour that passes.

Taehyung feels horrified at the thought that passes through his brain:

What if they are already too late?

Act III- Tuer La Grande Maison

“Jungkook, pass me a cigarette…”  

Jimin mumbles from across the fire, the light drained from his eyes.  

Jungkook’s first instinct is to question him; Jimin quit smoking two years ago.  

But, he stops himself just as the words crawl up his tongue and, instead he nods silently.  

“Here you go.” He practically whispers, passing the cigarette to Hoseok who then moves it around the circle.  

“Thanks.”  

There is a stale bit of silence that rushes through the group and, everyone seems to look at Jimin to start things off.  

But Jimin doesn’t look up, he just uses his shaky hands to light his cigarette. He takes the first inhale, his eyelids flutter as the nicotine infiltrates his senses.  

Through the smoke, Jimin shoots a dead gaze across the circle, “I have nothing else to report. Lady says she has her best guys on it but, I don’t think it matters…”  

Yoongi interjects, “Aren’t you wondering about the suits? I mean they have to have something to do with this. It’s not a coincidence that three of our sources mentioned them…”  

Jimin lets a humorless laugh leave his lips, “The suits,” He shakes his head, “They sound like a bunch of fucking DC villains.”  

Namjoon and Jin exchange something wordless between them before Jin decides to speak up,  

“Jimin, I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for all of us but, we need to keep at it. We have good information; we just need to keep digging.”  

Jimin feels his eyes burn with the promise of tears but, he just doesn’t have it in him to cry right now.  

He’s too exhausted.  

With another drag of his cigarette, he meets his hyung’s eyes with a hopelessness that shakes Jin to his core, “We don’t any money hyung, that’s all this town cares about. Maybe that’s all she cared about too…”  

Yoongi is known for his tepid disposition.  

He’s known for being the careful one, the collected one; so much so, that in high school Jin and Namjoon used to call him Mouse and, sometimes they still do.  

But right now, Yoongi is angry and, he’s not angry for the same reasons he was yesterday…  

“What are you insinuating?” Yoongi’s tone is clipped and, the intensity of his stare is enough to garner Jimin’s attention.  

He flicks the ash onto the ground, “I’m just saying…maybe I should consider the possibility that she left town on purpose.”  

“You should consider?” Yoongi bites back and, the tension between the two men immediately disperses throughout the group.  

Jimin glances to the side before looking back at Yoongi, “Yes. It’s been almost a week. The police aren’t interested in finding her, no one seems to want to speak more than they have to and, the only lead we have is that she met up with some man in a suit. According to all of your reports, she looked comfortable with him. So, what if she was? What if she was tired of being in this filthy fucking town?” He scoffs, bitterness in his tone, “I wouldn’t blame her honestly, I just wish she would have disappeared before making me fall in love with her. That would have been nice…”  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”  

Yoongi stands up, another rare occurrence, and glares at Jimin over the fire, “Do you realize how selfish you sound? You aren’t the only one who lost someone Jimin, she’s like a sister to us. She’s not the type of person to just run away from her problems and, you should be ashamed of yourself for suggesting that she’s that much of a coward.”  

Jimin is a respectful man, he honors the age hierarchy amongst his friends but, he disregards formalities in this moment and fights back.  

“She isn’t a coward. It’s a brave move to leave your family behind to pursue a better life, I just wish she would have left a note or something.”  

“Jimin,” Namjoon interjects, trying to keep the peace as he places a hand on his thigh, “Y/N didn’t run away. She wouldn’t do something like that. C’mon you know her right? She loves you, she loves all of us.”  

Jimin crosses his arms defensively, “Did she? I mean…from what I’ve gathered Namjoon, you don’t abandon the people you love. But she left me anyway…”  

Yoongi moves closer to him, throwing is own cigarette into the fire, his brow furrowed with his growing frustration, “Why do you think your relationship with her is more important?”  

Before Jimin has a chance to respond, Yoongi interrupts him.  

“Because you two fuck? Is that why?” He glares at his best friend, with a level of fury that stifles Jimin’s martyrdom, “She taught Jungkook how to drive, she stayed up with Jin and Namjoon for six weeks straight when they were studying for their exit exams, she took Hoseok to work for months while he was saving up for his car. She gave up her studio for Taehyung’s family and, slept in her car while their house was recovering from last year’s flood. She- “ Yoongi starts out with a strong voice but, it slowly begins to falter as he gets to his addition to the list. His black hair moves fluidly with the breeze and, he looks away from Jimin. “She was there the night I- when I was…”  

The sentence is loaded and, thankfully for Yoongi, he doesn’t need to complete it.  

They all know what he’s talking about.  

Jimin feels an enormous amount of guilt wash over him as he sees his calm and collected hyung, fight the tears in his eyes.  

“Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean you get a bigger stake in grieving over her, she’s important to all of us, not just you.”  

The heaviness is enough to crush the seven men sitting around the fire.  

Yoongi is frozen in his spot, staring down at Jimin with the authority of the second eldest but also, with the desperation of a friend in need.  

Jimin finally lets the sting win and, the tears fall unceremoniously down his cheeks as he tries to meet Yoongi’s gaze.  

“I’m so sorry hyung.” He’s ashamed of his behavior and, he expects Yoongi to scold him further but, instead he kneels down beside him, placing a firm hand on his leg.  

“We are going to find her.”  

It’s all he says but, it prompts to Jimin to pull him into a hug and, the two of them share a moment before Jungkook says something that shifts the course of the evening.  

“Hyung…” He begins, looking up from his phone, “How does your friend know what kind of car Y/N drives?”  

“My friend?” Jimin sniffles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, “What friend?”  

Hoseok looks uneasy beside Jungkook as well, staring intently at Jimin as he awaits for an answer.  

“Lady. The one you work for, how does she know what kind of car Y/N drives.”  

Jimin just shrugs and, with a nod he requests another cigarette as Yoongi returns to his seat,  

“She said it was in the news report the police published. I thought it was weird too especially since her car’s been in the shop but, the police have access to that kind of information so it makes sense.” He replies with a narrowed gaze, jerking his chin in his direction, “Why?”  

“There’s nothing about her car in the papers.”  

With Jungkook’s response, time almost freezes as a few members of the group seems to realize something dreadful.  

“Wha- How do you know that?” Jimin hasn’t caught on yet but, he knows his friends well and, there is a change in their posture that he notices, “Why does that matter?”  

Jungkook turns his phone in Jimin’s direction as a demonstration and, his voice begins to shake with his realization, “I searched everywhere hyung, it hasn’t appeared in a single article. How would she know something like that? Her car has been in the shop for two months…”  

Jimin’s reaction is immediate denial but, something crawls up his throat; something he doesn’t want to acknowledge.  

“Are you really thinking Lady had something to do with this?” He guffaws, taking another hit from his cigarette, “You know she’s like 70 right?”  

“Have you ever mentioned that she drives a civic before?” Hoseok chimes in, a look of concern on his face.  

Jimin shrugs, annoyed by their inflated reactions, “I don’t know? I wouldn’t remember telling her something like that but, I wouldn’t doubt if it came up especially when her cables were- “ His mouth parts then, cutting off his own sentence, “When her cables were cut…”  

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi pipes up and, everyone seems to lean towards the center of the circle subconsciously, growing closer without even realizing it.  

“When I was…” Jimin’s eyes are lit up with a thousand emotions as he tries to gather his thoughts, “When I was talking to her about Y/N she asked me if I thought it was the same person who cut the cables on her car. But-  I don’t remember telling her why Y/N’s car was in the shop.”  

“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Hoseok rushes out, nearly tripping over his words.  

“I- I didn’t make the connection, I just thought she was trying to help… oh my god.” Jimin brings his watery gaze around the circle, “Oh fuck. Do you think she knows? Do you think she knows what happened to her?”  

“Jimin…” Taehyung finally breaks his silence, “I think she is what happened to her.”  

And he wants to protest, because Lady is like a mother to him. She’s always there, helping him through his difficulties; she even gave him advice on how to confess to Y/N properly…none of this makes sense.  

“Think about it,” Taehyung continues, “She’s the wealthiest person in town, she knows everyone, she’s always checking up on you…don’t you think it’s a little odd that she’s so involved?”  

“I don’t know, I just thought she had connections, that’s why I went to her in the first place.”  

Jimin feels weak at this development and, Jungkook quickly takes his hand to soothe him.  

“What are we waiting for then? Lets go.” Yoongi stands with a firm look of determination but, Namjoon stops him.  

“Wait, we can’t just go busting into an old woman’s house and accuse her of kidnapping our friend. We have to have enough evidence…”  

“We have enough evidence.” Hoseok inserts, wearing a similar expression to Yoongi, “And old woman or not, if that bitch has our friend-“  

Jin comes through, intervening as things get intense, “Namjoon is right. We can’t do that. Look at us, she’d get one look and, call the police and, then we’d be the ones in handcuffs.”  

“Hyung, we literally just established a solid reason to be suspicious of someone.” Jungkook asserts, confusion evident on his features.  

Jin rolls his eyes, “All we’ve established is that Jimin may or may not have told her Y/N’s cables were cut. Lady owns half of the city, she’s more than capable of finding out what happened to Y/N’s car. This isn’t a lead, it’s odd yeah but, it’s not enough to accuse her with. She probably looked into Y/N’s vehicle information as soon as she went missing...”  

With Jin’s reasoning in place, the group seems to deflate a bit and, Jimin feels slightly relieved that he doesn’t have to suspect yet another person he’s supposed to trust.  

“I don’t know.” Jungkook’s small voice asserts, “I still think it’s weird.”  

With pursed lips, Hoseok nods along with his statement, looking longingly at the now empty back of cigarettes, “I agree.”  

“We don’t have to drop it completely, if anyone has any ideas on how to figure out more information, we should do that. Every lead is worth pursuing.” Namjoon murmurs  

“What do you think we should do?” Jungkook’s Bambi disposition is privy to Namjoon’s opinion and, he often turns to him in times of stress.  

“I have an idea.” Yoongi speaks instead, running his hand over the back of his neck, “I think I need to go back to the club. Jaebeom said the police might have found his sister if they had bothered to look for her, it kind of made me think that he had an idea of where she ended up...”  

“I’ll go with you.”  Jimin replies, throwing his cigarette into the fire  

Yoongi shakes his head, “I should go alone. He was kind of an asshole when I went the first time, I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me again.”  

Jimin chews on the inside of his cheek, wanting to protest but, he trusts Yoongi’s judgement.  

Besides, he can’t handle anyone’s attitude right now.  

“Anyone else think they need to revisit their leads?” Yoongi surveys the circle with cat-like precision, already crafting his future conversation with Jaebeom in his mind.  

Namjoon has glanced towards the direction of the Marquee River several times now and Jin, who is so tuned in to his mannerisms, notices.  

“What is it?”  

Namjoon purses his lips, “I think I need to speak with the groundskeeper again…”  

Hoseok wrinkles his nose in disgust, “The crazy guy with the bad breath?”  

He sighs, finally pulling his attention from the direction of the river, “What if his rambling actually meant something? He kept calling me madam…”  

“Namjoon,” Jin begins, placing a hand on his thigh, “he’s obviously sick, he didn’t even know who you were. How are you supposed to get anything meaningful from this guy?”  

“I don’t know. But, I think I should try…”  

“I’ll go with you hyung.” Jungkook vows, his eyes wide with his faith, “If that guys tries anything on you, I’ll kick his ass.”  

Jungkook’s very serious statement elicits something that the rooftop hasn’t heard in a while: laughter.  

They all laugh for a moment, basking in the tiny bit of innocence still left in their complicated world.  

And as the laughter dies down, Taehyung offers a sentiment that they can all agree on,  

“Let’s go find our friend.”  

After a few more cigarettes and a swig from Hoseok’s bottle of vodka, they all part ways.  

Namjoon and Jungkook head to the Marquee River whilst Yoongi prepares himself for a second visit to Ginseng. Jin and Taehyung head back to the night market to see if any of them have more information and, Hoseok finally convinces Jimin to get some rest.  

He’s been up for three days straight but, he hasn’t slept a full night since Tuesday.  

It’s hard but, after a bit more vodka, he finally passes out on Hoseok’s sofa.  

His torn between wanting to dream of you and, praying that he won’t.  

He wants to see your face but, fuck, it hurts so bad to do so.  

Namjoon and Jungkook- The Marquee River, Sunday 5:49pm  

Thankfully, the sun is just on the brink of setting when Namjoon and Jungkook arrive at the river. On Namjoon’s last visit, the moon was out and, very little people were left which left him more vulnerable. Now, not only does he have daylight on his side but, he also has a very vigilant and very protective dongsaeng to keep him company.  

“I’m just gonna stand back and, let you do your thing hyung but, if things get a little heated…I got your back ok? You just say the word and I’ll lay him out.” Jungkook vows, puffing his chest out as they approach the area Namjoon last saw the groundskeeper.  

He chuckles, patting Jungkook on the shoulder, “Thank you. I appreciate you coming with me. We shouldn’t be too long, especially if he starts rambling again.”  

Jungkook just nods, keeping close to his hyung, resisting the urge to hold his hand.  

He really wishes platonic hand-holding was more acceptable.  

Namjoon tenses up as he spots the groundskeeper near one of the trash cans but, he takes a deep breath and jerks his head in his direction, “There he is…”  

Jungkook nods, his expression tightening a bit as he prepares for the worst.  

“Hello?” Namjoon calls out tentatively  

The groundskeeper is dressed in slightly cleaner coat but, Namjoon still tenses up regardless.  

“Good evening gentleman.” The man turns around, smiling brightly, a rake grasped firmly in his hand, “What can I do for you?”  

Namjoon is confused.  

Is this the same man?  

He looks the same but, cleaner?  

And he isn’t laughing...  

What the hell is going on?  

“Uh good evening um...” Namjoon’s eyes flit to Jungkook, “Do you uh- do you remember me?”  

The man cocks his head, narrowing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head,  

“No, I’m so sorry I don’t. Have we met before?”  

Namjoon nods immediately but, for a moment he wonders if the experience he had the other night was some sort of stress induced hallucination.  

“Yeah, I came here the other night. I asked you if you had seen my friend?”  

For good measure, Namjoon holds up his phone, showing your photo and, the man pushes his glasses up his nose and leans in.  

He still has the scar but, his face isn’t greasy.  

His hair is combed to the side and, he doesn’t smell like slow death.  

Namjoon’s heart picks up at the thought of his own sanity slipping from him until the man finally seems to remember something.  

“Oh my-” He pulls back and shoots a wary look Namjoon’s way, “I do remember you. My goodness, I am so incredibly sorry, I probably scared the daylights out of you.”  

Namjoon’s polite nature causes him to chuckle uneasily but, he keeps his distance, not fully trusting this guy’s demeanor.  

“Yeah you uh, you definitely did. So uh...”  

The man cuts him off, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I suffered a head injury two years ago. The damage to my brain causes brief bouts of psychosis and, unfortunately I didn’t have enough money to refill my prescription.” The man extends his hand towards Namjoon and Jungkook, “My name is Nestor, please forgive my behavior. I can imagine it was quite shocking...”  

Namjoon and Jungkook were raised to be polite men so, despite their hesitation; they shake his hand, bowing their heads as they do.  

“I see. I’m sorry to hear about your accident.”  

Nestor chuckles and, something flashes in his eyes that Namjoon can’t quite decipher, “Oh it was no accident son, I was attacked.”  

Jungkook narrows his eyes and, although he claimed he wouldn’t speak, his curiosity gets the best of him, “By who?”  

Nestor looks to the side for a moment before glancing back at them,  

“I can’t remember.”  

“That’s awfully convenient.” Jungkook can’t help but observe with a pouted mouth and, Namjoon lightly smacks his chest.  

“Sorry but, you don’t remember?”  

Namjoon’s intricate brain is searching for ways to connect the dots but, the man is offering him very little information.  

“No, the doctors said I was attacked and, left for dead. I suffered damage to my hippocampus and, this caused a pretty bad episode of amnesia. I couldn’t remember who I was or how old I was, the only thing I could remember is my cat’s name...” He chuckles and, the clouded film over his eyes adds to the pain that flashes through them, “Which is quite funny you see because, my cat’s name is Cognac so, when I kept asking for Cognac, the nurses would try and explain to me over and over that I couldn’t have alcohol in my state.”  

Jungkook and Namjoon offer their condolences in the form of breathless laughter but, their level of empathy quickly absorb Nestor’s sadness.  

“Anyway...” Nestor gestures to Namjoon’s cellphone as a means to change the subject, “I have seen your friend before but, I don’t remember the last time I saw her. I’m terribly sorry...”  

Jungkook pipes up, “It’s ok sir, we understand, your hippo is damaged, that’s not your fault.”  

Namjoon’s mouth opens in disbelief and, he wants to correct Jungkook’s mistake but, he has more important matters to attend to.  

“I hope this isn’t too much for you but, the last time I was here- “ He hesitates, glancing over at Nestor, “-last time I was here, you kept calling me madam. Is there any significance to that?”  

“Oh...” Nestor chuckles, tucking a bit of his gray hair behind his ear, “I’m sure I was talking about my wife. It’s common for me in those episodes to ask for her. She passed away two years ago.”  

This is something Namjoon has been waiting for.  

Two years ago, this man was attacked.  

Two years ago, his wife passed away.  

Two years ago, Jaebeom’s sister went missing.  

There must be some correlation.  

“It was lovely meeting you gentleman. Unfortunately, I have to get back to my duties,” He gestures to the multi-colored leaves littered on the ground, “, these leaves aren’t going to rake themselves.”  

Namjoon understands of course and, they quickly shake hands again but, just before the two men turn to leave, Jungkook’s randomized curiosity strikes again.  

“What happened to your cat?”  

Nestor seems to search his brain and, his features almost crumple with a bit of desperation,  

“I don’t- I don’t remember.”  

Jungkook just nods, offering him a small smile before him and Namjoon move through the trees towards the street.  

Yoongi- Ginseng Night Club, Sunday 8:37pm  

As Yoongi enters the club for the second time, he carries himself much differently. He ignores the looks from the patrons littered on the couches, he ignores the bass vibrating in his bones, he ignores the jabs from the bartender as he asks to speak with Jaebeom.  

His anxiety is replaced with determination.  

When Jaebeom swings open the door a second time, he’s toned body is only covered by a pair of jeans.  

With another joint between his fingers, Jaebeom smirks down at Yoongi, “Are you here for business or pleasure?”  

Yoongi shamelessly allows his eyes to move over Jaebeom’s figure, admiring it but, also noting that his skin is littered with more than just tattoos.  

Nail marks run down the length of his abdomen, purple bruises congregate on the left side of his neck and, his lips are swollen with evidence of kissing.  

“Looks like you’ve had enough pleasure for the evening.” Yoongi notes in Korean, forcing his gaze away from Jaebeom’s body, “I need to ask you a few more questions.”  

Jaebeom’s smirk never falters as he pulls the joint to his lips. With a jerk of his head, he ushers Yoongi inside, shutting the door behind him, “Make it quick, I have company coming…”  

Yoongi wants to make a comment but, he knows it’s not important enough so, he starts with his first question, “I know this might be hard to talk about but when I was here last night, you said something about your sister going missing.”  

A noticeable change runs through Jaebeom’s body as he takes his seat, “Yeah, what about it?”  

“I thought it was odd that they-  my friend and your sister,” He elaborates, “went missing on the same street and the way you spoke about it, it was like you knew something about where she went…”  

Jaebeom tenses up with the subject change but, he sees something in Yoongi that he likes, there is an honesty to him that Jaebeom fucks with, “I have a feeling, yes, but I could never prove it.”  

Yoongi offers silence as a way to encourage him to continue and, Jaebeom obliges despite his hesitation.  

“Her and her boyfriend used to come in to the club every Thursday night for Happy Hour. They had been dating for a while and, things seemed to be going all right. But one night, she came in alone and I asked her where he was and, she told me they were taking a break.” Jaebeom’s expression shifts again and Yoongi, being the empath that he is, senses the onslaught of negative emotion. “She wouldn’t tell me what happened. She just kept begging me to stay out of it and, she made me promise her I wouldn’t confront him. He came in to the club later that night and, some of my guys told me they got into a huge fight-“  

Yoongi interjects, “Did you see anything?”  

He shakes his head and, before he elaborates, he takes another hit of his blunt, “No, I was up here doing a deal but, the next thing I know, my friends are coming up here and, telling me that my sister ran out of the club, crying and shit. I tried to call her, I even went out on the street and, asked everyone if they saw her but…” His voice tightens before he blows smoke from his lips, “…nothing. I blew up her phone for the rest of the night but, she never responded. I went to the police the next day and, surprise surprise, they were fucking useless. They kept saying that ‘girls like her runaway all the time’ and ‘she’ll be back before you know it.’ I was so angry. I couldn’t believe they didn’t care. I did the same thing you and your boys are doing, I started my own investigation and, I didn’t get very far until, I found her cell phone in the club’s dumpster.”  

Yoongi surprise is evident on his face and, it prompts Jaebeom to comment on it,  

“Yeah I know right? You’d think that would have helped but, it only made everything more complicated. I looked through her messages to try to figure out what happened and-“ He blows a heavy breath between is lips, shaking his head, “Her boyfriend was cheating on her but, it was with some old chick, like his boss or some shit…I don’t know.”  

“His boss?”  

He nods, “Yeah, he worked the Upside as a pool boy.”  

Yoongi’s heart drops then, down to the pit of his stomach and, he literally feels the sweat collecting in the wells of his palms.  

“A pool boy?” He has to clarify, just so he’s sure he heard him right  

Jaebeom nods and licks his lips, “Yeah, my sister found out he was fucking her; at least that’s what I got from her texts.”  

“My friend works as a pool boy too. It’s his girlfriend that missing.”  

Jaebeom’s brows rise before shaking his head, “Shit…” He takes another hit, “That’s a hell of a coincidence.”  

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”  

Yoongi and Jaebeom regard each other for a moment before Jaebeom’s mouth turns up in a smirk, “I guess you have an old lady to visit then. If you see my sister’s boyfriend, slap him around a little bit for me heh…”  

Jaebeom seems to gulp the pain he feels down his throat before finishing off the blunt and throwing it in the ashtray.  

“Wait, did he disappear too?”  

He nods, “Haven’t seen him since that night. I just assumed he was living the high life, I mean, I don’t blame him…I’d suck on some old lady titties too for that kind of money…” Jaebeom quickly replaces the blunt in his hand with a the bottle of beer he had sitting on his side table. He takes a swig before holding out to Yoongi, “You want some?”  

Yoongi doesn’t understand his attitude towards his sister’s disappearance. If he knew where her boyfriend was, why wouldn’t he go talk to him?  

But he takes the offer, throwing back a bit of stale beer, letting the slight warmth from the alcohol soothe the rawness in his chest.  

“Why didn’t you go up there? If that’s where he is?”  

“I don’t have contacts up there. There was no way they’d let me in, look at me…” He chuckles, gesturing to his rough appearance, “Besides, I don’t know where that bitch lives and, honestly, it’s probably for the best. I don’t know what I’d do to that guy if I found him…”  

A few more words are exchanged before Yoongi decides he needs to leave; he has a lot to report and, he feels as though time is running out.  

As he’s moving to the threshold of the door, Jaebeom get his attention.  

“Hey-“  

As Yoongi turns around, Jaebeom leans forward in his seated position, placing his elbows on his knees, “What’s your name?”  

Yoongi’s lips twitch, “Yoongi.”  

Jaebeom grins, nodding his head in consideration, “Yoongi. Alright then, well if you ever want to take a night off from your detective work and, uh you know,” He nods to the bed, “have some fun, you know where to find me.”  

Desire stirs in Yoongi’s stomach and, he’s flattered honestly, that such a handsome man could take interest in him but, he knows he couldn’t take a night off if he tried.  

He’s got a friend to find.  

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He sends a smile towards Jaebeom, bowing his head slightly, “See you around.”  

“I hope so.”  

The information they have accrued is once again exchanged amongst the group and, there is only one conclusion that everyone continues to arrive at:  

They have to get inside Lady’s house.  

So, putting their heads together they concoct a plan that just might work.  

The plan is simple.  

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung will take Lady up on her offer of a home cooked meal.  

Thankfully, Taehyung’s closet is full of clothes that look far more expensive than they actually are; working at a thrift store has its perks.  

Jimin is dressed in a gray and black suit, covered in a gaudy brocade pattern.  

Jungkook choses a floral blazer and black slacks, complete with a simple white button up he borrows from Taehyung’s father.  

Taehyung donns something slightly less subtle; a black and silver blazer with a similar brocade pattern to Jimin’s suit jacket.  

They take time on their hair, doing it up as if it were each of their wedding days.  

When it’s all said and done, the three men walk out of Taehyung’s room looking like they came straight out of Interview with Vampire.  

Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin are dressed in all black.  

They will serve as a distraction during dinner to enable the younger men to explore the property undisturbed by Lady’s security guards.  

It’s not an easy task but, they are more than ready to attempt it.  

An invitation to dinner is of course incomplete without a gift for it’s lovely host.  

Tonight, a bottle of champagne is clutched in Taehyung’s grasp as he strolls up the cobblestone walkway.  

However, this champagne is slightly modified to fit this evening’s itinerary.  

“Doxepin, it's what I take for insomnia. This shit is strong, I only have to take one and, I’m out like a light in 30 minutes...” Yoongi had explained, pushing his prescription bottle towards Taehyung, “Slip that bitch 3 or 4 and, she’ll hit the floor. When she wakes up, just tell her she passed out for a few minutes…”  

And so it was.  

Lady's home is massive.  

It’s the biggest house the men have ever seen.  

Jimin has stood in its immensity before but, Jungkook and Taehyung are almost disgusted by its grandeur.  

The white paint seems to stretch upwards for miles, the greenery of the vines decorating it in such a way that it almost looks serene.  

Nothing could be farther from the truth.  

The lawn is immaculate.  

Carefully trimmed hedges sculpted to perfection line the walkway that leads to the dark oak that encompasses the front door.  

They aren’t here for a lovely dinner inside this massive house.  

The true nature of their visit is simply to gather more information.  

They aren’t sure how but, Lady is connected to your disappearance.  

Tonight, they will gather enough evidence to warrant an investigation.  

Maybe then, the city below them will finally pay attention to their cries for help.  

Lady doesn’t greet them at the door but, another intriguing person does.  

“Noah...” Jimin greets the suited man with a smile that is far too sweet.  

But he delights in the man’s surprise and, Jimin connects another piece of the puzzle.  

Noah is a classmate of theirs.  

He was fortunate enough to land a job in the Upside after graduation.  

He was fortunate in that his family had money and connections that pushed Noah ahead of his fellow alumni.  

Noah knew you well.  

Noah is dressed in a suit.  

Noah works for Lady.  

It seems there is a connection but, instead of pummeling Noah like he wants to, Jimin simply bows his head as he steps through the threshold of Lady’s home.  

“Wh-What are you guys doing here?” Noah stutters, trying desperately to compose himself.  

Taehyung offers the same smile adorning Jimin’s mouth, “We’re here for dinner. What are you doing here?”  

It’s a loaded question and Noah knows it but, he’s helpless to act on this knowledge because, he is required to treat Lady’s guests with respect.  

“I work here.” He mutters, gesturing towards the dining room, “She’s uh...she’s right in there.”  

“Aren’t you going to offer to take our coats?” Jimin feigns innocence, nodding to the coat rack beside the door.  

Noah nods and with shaky hands and, he accepts each of the coats before hanging them up.  

“Enjoy your evening gentleman.”  

The three of them walk away with a sense of satisfaction but, they are also sick with the knowledge of where one of their former friends ended up.  

Money can create the most dastardly of monsters.  

“Oh my goodness you’re here! Come in, come in.”  

Lady appears at the archway, dressed in a red satin gown, her grey hair piled elegantly atop her head.  

Time has been kind to her, Jungkook thinks, she doesn’t look 70.  

But then again, age seems to be less of an issue when you have millions of dollars at your disposal.  

“Lady these are my friends, Jungkook...” He gestures to the man on his right, who bows respectfully offering a boyish smile.  

“Thank you so much for having me Lady Noona, you have an incredible home.”  

Lady is already flustered; she can’t believe Jimin has friends as handsome as he is.  

“And Taehyung...” Jimin continues, smirking at Jungkook’s acting skills.  

Taehyung, takes her hand, keeping eye contact with her and lowering his lips to her knuckles, “Enchanté, votre maison est belle oui mais pas aussi belle que vous.” (Enchanted. Your house is beautiful yes but, not nearly as beautiful as you.)  

Lady’s face rushes red and, she giggles like a demented schoolgirl, fanning herself as Taehyung releases her hand.  

“Oh mon dieu tu l'es aussi. N'hésitez pas à continuer...” (Oh my goodness, you are too much. Please don’t hesitate to continue.)  

“My lord Jimin, you didn’t tell me your friends were so handsome and, that one of them speaks French- “ She eyes Taehyung teasingly and he responds by winking.  

“He was adopted when he was younger by a French family, he actually doesn’t speak English very well.” Jimin lies, strolling into the dining room and, beginning his search for something incriminating.  

She nods, her eyes alight with intrigue, “I see well,” She leans into Taehyung’s frame, lowering her voice slightly, “Ne t'inquiète pas je n'aurai aucun mal à communiquer avec toi.” (Not to worry, I’ll have no trouble communicating with you)  

Taehyung chuckles at that, bringing his lips to her ear, “Bien sûr, vous en avez déjà dit beaucoup.” (Of course, you have already said so much)  

Lady is floored and, enlightened with desire.  

So much so, that she arranges for Taehyung to sit right beside her.  

The dining table, Jimin remembers, is smaller to create a more intimate setting.  

Jimin takes a seat across from Lady who sits at the head of the table whilst Jungkook and Taehyung settle into the two middle chairs between them.  

The first course is a salad topped with fancy ingredients the men barely recognize but, they dive into it anyway as Lady begins the conversation.  

“Any word about Y/N?” She ventures solemnly, giving her best look of concern.  

Jimin smiles, saccharine as ever, “Nothing so far but, I’m sure your men will give me an update soon.”  

Lady nods mid-chew, pouting her lips slightly, “Of course sweetheart, they send me updates whenever they have something.”  

Taehyung interjects, “Ne parlez pas encore d'elle, ça ruine mon humeur. Je t'ai apporté quelque chose. L'homme du magasin a dit que c'était sucré, peut-être que nous pourrions l'avoir avec un dessert?” (Don’t talk about her yet, it ruins my mood. I brought you something. The man at the store said it was sweet, maybe we can have it with dessert?)  

This surprises Lady of course but, as Taehyung hands her the bottle of champagne adorned appropriately with a twist off cap; She smirks salaciously and nods.  

“Tout ce que vous voulez...” (Whatever you want...)  

Taehyung arches a brow, leaning in towards her once more, “Tout ce que je veux?” (Whatever I want?)  

This is part of the plan of course, to disarm her and, Taehyung is doing an incredible job.  

“Oui.”  (Yes.) She practically coos in response, shameless to the presence of the other men.

He chuckles darkly and, beneath the table he places a hand on her thigh, “Et si je te veux pour le dessert?” (What if I want you for dessert?)  

Jimin wants to hurl a little bit because, although he can’t understand what they are saying, he knows something inappropriate is going down.  

“Jimin, your friend is going to make me misbehave.” Lady giggles, licking her lips as she eyes Taehyung hungrily.  

He plays it off though, this is part of the plan.  

“I’m sorry about him. He’s a shameless flirt.” Jimin chuckles lazily, eyeing Jungkook from over his water glass.  

“No apology needed.” She smirks, flushing a further shade of red as Taehyung sends a wink in her direction, “Now, tell me Jungkook, what is that you do?”  

Jungkook smiles brilliantly, looking eagerly at her, “I work as a paralegal for a law firm a few cities over but, on the weekends I work as a personal trainer.”  

The lie is so well executed, Jimin and Taehyung want to cackle but, they hold it together, sticking to their script.  

“Oh that is so impressive. I hear Law careers are increasing by 18% over the next 5 years, it’s an incredible industry to get into.” She compliments, stabbing more of the lettuce onto her fork.  

“I’m glad you think so Noona, I can imagine someone as successful as you has a lot of wisdom for someone like me.” Jungkook’s Bambi eyes are on full display as he stares longingly in Lady’s direction, licking his lips.  

His words have a double meaning and, Lady knows it, she wonders how she got so lucky to have two handsome men flirting with her.  

“I know my way around sure,” She remarks with a smile, “I can introduce you to some of my colleagues, many of them work in your prospective field.”  

“Really?” Jungkook beams, “That would be an honor Noona, thank you so much.”  

Lady nods and places a well-manicured hand over his, “Of course, any friend of Jimin’s is a friend of mine.”  

She turns to Taehyung, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, “Et vous, quel est votre métier?” (And you? What is your job?)

Taehyung pouts slightly, eyeing her in a way that suggests embarrassment, “Je suis un artiste. Je vends mes tableaux. C'est un travail très difficile mais, je l'aime tellement, je ne peux pas imaginer faire autre chose.” (I am an artist. I sell my paintings. It’s a very difficult job but, I love it so much, I can’t imagine doing anything else.)

Lady melts at his words, a longing sigh leaving her lips, “Bien sûr. C'est tellement admirable que vous poursuivez ce qui vous passionne.” (Of course. That is so admirable that you pursue what you’re passionate in.)

Taehyung smirks, eyeing her as he takes a sip of his water, “Merci. Je suis curieux maintenant, de quoi êtes-vous passionné?” (Thank you. I’m curious now, what are you passionate about?)

Before she can answer, the second course is served: roasted beef with a béarnaise sauce on a bed of microgreens.

Rich people shit, Jimin thinks but, he smiles graciously none the less.

He isn’t hungry, he hasn’t been hungry for the past week so, he pushes the meat around the plate as he continues to survey her dining area.

There is nothing out of place but, then again, he isn’t sure what he’s looking for.

The only thing he can do is wait for dessert…

Once Lady is out, they will be able to search for what they need.  

“Lady, do you live here all alone?” Jungkook feigns concern, tilting his head.

She smiles sadly and nods, dabbing her lips with a silk napkin, “Yes I do. My husband, Nestor, died two years ago of an aneurysm.  I’ve been alone here ever since, well minus my guards of course. I’m sure you saw them outside but, they don’t live here full time.”

Jungkook has to stifle his shock.

The name Nestor, isn’t a common one.

In fact, he’s only ever heard it once before...

Jungkook kisses his teeth, pouting his lips slightly, “Oh noona, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

She pouts too, mirroring his expression, soaking up all of his sympathy, “That’s alright dear. I manage just fine, I have to admit though, it’s so wonderful having company. It gets lonely up here.”

The youngest smirks, “Oh of course Noona, I can only imagine…” He places a hand on her thigh beneath the table, rubbing gently over her dress, “A woman like you should never be lonely.”

Jimin and Taehyung have to physically repress their reactions to Jungkook’s acting abilities; it’s a side of him they have never seen.

Anger is something Jungkook doesn’t encounter very often.

But as he looks into Lady’s face, he feels rage coursing through him.

Because, he knows she isn’t genuine.  

He knows there is something off about her.  

Jungkook would normally never dream of harming another person but, when his friends are getting hurt, his morals begin to loosen.

“Oh my, you boys make me feel young again.” Lady chuckles before taking a bit of her beef, “You know…I have the resources to assist you, I tell Jimin this all the time but, he’s just so modest.” She winks at him and, Jimin pretends to shy away from her compliment, “I could really help you with your chosen career paths. Taehyungie,” She turns to him, flashing the pearl white of her dentures, “Ma sœur Clemtenine possède une galerie au centre-ville, je suis sûr que je peux lui faire acheter une partie de votre art. Je sais que j'aurais certainement adoré en acheter ...” (My sister Clementine owns a gallery downtown, I’m sure I can get her to purchase some of your art. I know I’d certainly loved to buy some)

Taehyung’s stomach drops at her statement but, he remains composed and arches his brow, “Clementine? C'est un nom tellement intéressant…” (Clementine? That is such an interesting name…)  

Lady giggles once again, “Oui, nos parents étaient des gens excentriques.” (Yes, our parents were eccentric people.)

“Ils étaient probablement beaux aussi…” (They were probably beautiful too…)

Taehyung winks again and, he must admit, he’s getting off on how easy she is to trick.

She fans herself through her uneasy giggle, nudging his knee with her own, “Oh arrête de me flatter, je suis sérieux, je pourrais vraiment t'aider” (Oh stop flattering me, I’m serious, I could really help you.)

Taehyung pretends to be touched as he places a hand to his chest but before he can reply, a loud voice rings in through the intercom above the dining table.

“Mam this is Noah. There is a disturbance down at the main gate, we have to leave to go check it out, are you alright in there?”

Lady rolls her eyes, unbothered, “Of course Noah, I’m with my friends. Go take care of it, update me when you’re done.”

Anxiety swims into the stomachs of the three men; phase one is complete.

The guards are due to be distracted and, all they can hope is that Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and, Jin stay safe in the process.

“Is everything alright?” Jimin tilts his head, glancing towards the speaker.

She smile reassuringly, waving him off, “Of course, this happens all the time. It’s probably just the homeless, poor things, they beg at my gate sometimes. I don’t engage with them though, as much as I want to help, I don’t believe in handouts you know? It teaches them nothing.”  

This both confuses and enrages Jimin all at once.

She has no problem offering her resources to the three of them because, lets face it, it’s obvious she is partial to their good looks.

But he’s disgusted with her way of thinking.

Everyone deserves a fair shot.

He can’t understand how people, especially fortunate people like Lady, could have this outlook.

But then again, without the abuse of the working class, how would people like her make all of their money?  

“I’ll drink to that.” Jimin smiles, raising his glass and, the rest of the table follows suit, sipping from their crystal goblets.

Then, something peculiar happens…

Beneath their feet, against the expensive lacquer on the wood varnish, there is a banging sound.  

Lady tenses up but, deflects immediately, her surprise quickly smoothing out of her features, “Forgive me, I’m having a wine cellar built beneath the dining room, they’ve been measuring all morning so, it looks like they are getting started on the construction.”

Jimin’s expression shifts and, he stares across the table like a snake honing in on his pray, “Oh? That’s so weird, I didn’t notice any construction trucks outside.”

Lady smiles gracefully, “They have been working for quite awhile, part of their team left to gather more supplies. I’m so indecisive, I changed my mind about the interior several times…” She turns to Taehyung, feeling uneasy under Jimin’s gaze, “Que pensez-vous du marbre noir?” (What do you think of black marble?)

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “Ah, marbre noir? Excellent choix, si séduisant.” (Ah, black marble? Excellent choice, so seductive.)

She entangles her fingers with his beneath the table cloth, shooting him a suggestive look that makes Taehyung sick to his stomach, “Oui, vous l'êtes…” (Yes, you are.)

All Taehyung can manage is a smirk and, a thumb over the back of her knuckles.

His patience is running out.

“L'heure du dessert?” (Dessert time?)

He nods to the kitchen and, Lady immediately blooms with excitement.

“Oui, oui…” She smiles, craning her neck towards the kitchen, “We’re ready for dessert now, what’s taking so long?”

Crème Brule is served alongside a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream and, Taehyung whispers something in her ear about her being similar to the French dessert.

With flushed cheeks, Lady giggles (for the millionth time) and, begins eating.

“Chérie, es-tu prêt pour le champagne que j'ai apporté? Il ira bien avec ce dessert…” (Darling, are ready for the champagne I brought? It will go well with this dessert…)

With her approval, Taehyung pours the bubbly liquid into each of the flutes, smirking devilishly at his friends as he does.

Taehyung watches her like a hawk and, picks up her glass, getting dangerously close to her as he lifts it to her lips, “Boisson. Dis-moi ce que tu penses.” (Drink. Tell me what you think.)

Like saucers her eyes widen and, she’s so enthralled with Taehyung, she doesn’t notice another round of banging beneath the floorboards.

But the rest of them do.

Her eyes flutter as she sips some of the bubbly liquid but, Taehyung isn’t satisfied.

“Ah ah…Avale tout pour moi.” ( Ah ah…Swallow it all for me)

She obliges, practically spluttering at his double entendre.

“Bonne fille.” (Good Girl) He chuckles darkly, his heart thumping in his chest, he likes this.  

He has to admit.

There is something so satisfying about fooling an opponent.

He’s turned on by it.

She gulps as she continues to stare at him, completely captivated.

“C’est delicieux.” (It’s delicious) She finally manages, dabbing her lips with the silk once again.

“Tu fais un bon show…” (You put on a good show) He remarks, smirking before pretending to sip some of his own champagne.

There is a bit of silence that moves throughout the table before Jimin takes the reigns once again,

“Lady, I really appreciate you having us tonight. We needed a night off; things have been so difficult lately.”

Lady immediately smiles, forcing her eyes away from Taehyung, “Of course sweetheart. You know I’m always here for you.”

Another sound is forced against the wood below and, for whatever reason, this startles Lady.  

“Goodness, they are loud…” A nervous laugh leaves her lips and she attempts to stand up before faltering a bit, eyeing Taehyung immediately as she seems to stumble.

Taehyung reacts, standing with her and, holding onto her waist, “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas chérie?” (What’s wrong darling?)

She mumbles something incoherent which prompts a sadistic grin to appear on Taehyung’s mouth, “Vous sentez-vous un peu endormi?” (Do you feel a little sleepy?)

She nods, clinging to him helplessly as he guides her to the settee beneath the window,

“C'est bon chéri, dors pour moi. Je promets que je serai là quand tu te réveilleras.” (It’s ok darling, sleep for me. I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.)

Lady’s eyes are growing heavier when Taehyung lays her down and, as he does, he places a kiss atop her forehead, “Si jamais tu le fais…” (If you ever do…)

Her eyes widen at his threatening tone but, before she can process it fully, she passes out in his arms.  

Taehyung, Jungkook and, Jimin all look at each other for a moment before, they spring into action.

They shove the dining table aside, disregarding the sound of the expensive china as it crashes to the floor.

There is a Persian rug that covers the sound and, that is quickly shoved aside to reveal something that makes their stomach turn.

Because, beneath the dining table, there is a cellar door.

Jimin swallows his fear and with shaky hands, he leans down, “Hello?”

Silence.

He tries again, his chest numb from the force of his beating heart, “Is there- is anyone down there?”

Nothing.

Jimin frantically looks for a way in but, the hatch is sealed with a padlock.

“It’s locked, we need a way to-“ He begins but, a voice interrupts him.

A voice he is longed to hear for what seems like eternity.  

“Jimin?”

The men look at each other with such heightened emotion that it could power the entire city.

Because, that voice belongs to you.

“Y/N? Baby? Oh my god…” He clutches the wood, banging on it without a reason why, “Baby? Is that you?”

Down in the cellar, beneath the big house you were taken to, you begin to cry at the sound of your boyfriends voice.

You must be dreaming you think.

He can’t be real.  

Is it possible?  

Is the nightmare finally over?

“Jimin!” You cry weakly, using all the strength you have.

The woman who forced you down here hasn’t fed you since your arrival.

She’s just left you down there, along with the rest of her secrets.

The room you’re in isn’t very big.

It’s constructed crudely and made of stone.

There are only two things to keep you company:

A pile of bones and, a pile of money.

When the woman laid you beneath her home, she said only one thing to you,  

“You will die down here. You will die beside the life you will never have and, while you do, I’ll make sure he gets everything he could ever want.”

Jimin chokes back a sob as he pounds against door yet again and, he doesn’t notice that Jungkook is already scanning the room for solution.

“I’m right here baby, I’m right here, I’m going to get you out ok? Just hang on…”

You cover your chapped lips with the palm of your hand, sobbing into it.

You couldn’t believe it.

He found you.

He actually found you.

You didn’t know how and, it didn’t matter.

You just want to go home.

“Jungkook and Taehyung are here with me, we’re going to get you out!” He calls and, as if on cue, Jungkook appears beside him with hammer, “Watch out.” He grunts, determination in his eyes, “Y/N! I’m gonna break the door in ok? I need you to move aside so you don’t get hurt!”

You laugh in disbelief at the sound of your friend’s voice, “Use that brute strength of yours Kookie! Show that door who’s boss!”  

He chuckles at that, tears collecting in his eyes, “I got you Noona, just make sure you’re not in the way!”

Taehyung is smiling too, trying not to lose it at the sound of your voice.

He keeps a careful eye on Lady, who is still passed out on the settee.

If he hated her before, he wants to kill her now.

Taehyung knew she was involved yes but, he never suspected she had you locked in her fucking cellar.

Jimin is itching to get you in his arms, he wants to claw through the wood himself but, instead he stands back and, lets Jungkook hack away at the cellar door.  

You can see it.

The expensive wood slowly splintering above, light pouring in through the jagged cracks.

The only light you’ve had down here is a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

It’s been torture.

But, none of that matters to you right now.

The only thing you can focus on is the sight of your boyfriend’s face as he tears the remaining wood away from the frame.

“Jimin…” You whimper, ignoring the weakness in your body before crawling your way up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms.

Jimin breaks down, reaching out for you…

You’re still in the same outfit he last saw you in.

“Baby, come here…come here…” He pulls you into his arms, his body shaking with his cries as he holds you so tight, it’s almost painful, “I got you, I got you. You’re safe now, you’re safe…”

You’re face in his neck, sobbing whilst your fists clutch his blazer.

You don’t fully understand what’s going on, or why they are here dressed like little princes.

But, you’re not in the headspace to ask.

You just want to stay in Jimin’s arms and, never let go.

“We’re so sorry…” Jungkook sniffles, wrapping his arms around you and Jimin.

Taehyung follows suit, letting his tears fall, “We’re going to make sure they pay for what they did to you.”

Time seems to stand still as you relish in the affection of the people closest to you.

“Don’t ever be sorry. Look what you guys did…you found me. You saved me.” You whisper weakly, your face remaining in Jimin’s neck.

“Jimin? Taehyung? What on earth is going on?”

The sound of her voice makes your blood run cold…

Lady is sitting up, disorientated but before she has a chance to process what’s going on, Taehyung grabs the carving knife from the dining room table and holds it up to her neck.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same question.”

Lady’s mouth parts in shock, her eyes widening in fear, “I- I-“ She glances around the room before she spots you and, her heart stalls, “I can explain…”

Jimin wants to freak out on her, he really does but, he doesn’t want to let go of you.

“Lady…” He spits from the floor, setting his piercing gaze on her, “Why the fuck is my girlfriend in your cellar?”

She hesitates and, Taehyung can tell she’s looking for a way out so, he presses the knife into her skin, “Answer him.” He hisses through his teeth

Jungkook stands as well, prepared to back him up should he need it.

“Jimin please, you must know. I was only looking out for you…women like her, they ruin men like you. I was trying to protect you.”  

“Protect me?!” He barks, shaking his head in disbelief, “By murdering the only woman I’ve ever loved? By putting my friends and I through the worst week of our life?!”

Taehyung holds the knife steady as he jerks his head towards her, “Stand up…”

She obliges, mouth parted in disbelief, her hands up in front of her submissively, “You’re working three jobs to support yourself, I’ve been trying to help you but, I knew you wouldn’t accept it unless you had no other choice. I knew she…” She sends a glare your way, “…would always be in your ear. She was all you ever spoke about, I needed to get her out of the way so, you could start focusing on you.”

“She has a name you crazy bitch…” Jimin lets out a humorless laugh, helping you to your feet, “She has a name and, a life and, people who love her and, you…” He points a finger in her face, “…you tried to take that from her. How many people have ended up in your basement huh?! How many lives have you ruined?!”

Her expression shifts to one of pure malice, a devilish smirk appearing on her lips, “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend?” She turns her gaze towards you, “Tell him, tell him how many skeletons you found beneath my house.”

This angers you.

Initially, you didn’t understand.

You didn’t understand the significance of running into Noah that night.

You didn’t understand why he offered to call you a Taxi.

You didn’t understand why the driver intentionally missed your turn.

And after you were knocked out, you didn’t understand why you were brought to this place.

The big house.

But now, it makes sense.

This pathetic excuse of a woman, gets off on kidnapping the less fortunate.

She breeds new monsters in the process, taking their loved ones and capitalizing off of their grief.

She takes them in and, turns them to stone.  

“You wanted them to think I was dead…so you could convince them to leave their lives behind.” Your voice isn’t a hundred percent but, your gaze is steady as it pierces into her.

She chuckles despite the knife being pressed to her throat, “Hmm so it does have a brain. I knew I couldn’t convince Jimin to work for me unless I broke his heart first. Men are much easier to manipulate when they feel like they have nothing left.”

Taehyung practically snarls, “Let’s waste this bitch, we can tell the police that-“

Lady’s cackle is abrupt, her eyes crinkling with delight, “The police! Ha! The police work for me, why do you think they never looked for your little friend hm? They knew where she was, I pay them a pretty penny to keep their mouth shut.”

Another almost cartoonish voice interrupts the conversation as it crackles over the intercom, “Mam is everything alright in there? We heard a commotion.”

Shit.

It’s one of the guards.

Jungkook is prepared to fight, he looks around for a weapon and, grabs the hammer from the floor.

“Noah! No everything is not ok! It seems as though my guests have overstayed their welcome…” She seethes before another smile appears on her lips, “Kill them…”

Jimin grabs you immediately, pushing you behind him and, Taehyung’s grip tightens on Lady’s waist, keeping her in place.

“Uhhh yeah I don’t know who the fuck Noah is but, uh-  oh wait! Yah, Hoseok! Isn’t Noah the one you hit with the Range Rover?”  

The voice morphs again and, you actually laugh at the sound of Yoongi’s voice echoing through the speaker.

“Holy shit…” Jungkook chuckles in disbelief

“That scrawny little blonde dude??” Hoseok’s voice literally warms your heart as it reaches your ears, “Yeah he’s out like a light sorry, anyone else you’d like to speak to?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Lady hisses, panic settling into her senses, “I’ll have the police here in minutes, you’ll be thrown in prison for the rest of your lives!”

“Ouch, we were afraid you’d say that. See, but the thing is, we destroyed all of your fancy ass cameras but, we left the audio running so…” Jin’s voice chimes in next, explaining her demise, “the only thing the police will hear is a taped confession, you wrinkly ass bitch. And let me just say my dear, you look like your pussy is covered in dust and, that’s why you’re going down, all because you thought you might get some dick...pity.

Jin’s insult causes laughter to move through the four of you and, you can’t help but, feel moved at how dedicated your friends are.

“You filthy bastards, you better get your grimy hands off of my cars before, I add grand theft auto to your long list of charges.”

They laugh hysterically on the other end of the line before; Namjoon speaks up, “Ok boomer.”

In the next moment, Lady takes advantage of the distraction and, quickly lunges at you, her hands going for your neck but, before she can reach you, she’s knocked out of the way by Jungkook.

It’s an instinctual reaction but, it does the job

Because instead of landing on you, Lady falls down the hole in the floor to the cellar.

The four of you rush over to the entrance to see her body laying still at the bottom of stairs.

There is a bit of silence before you speak up, staying close to Jimin, “What do we do?”

He smirks, wrapping an arm around you, “Leave her. Let her die alone with her all nice shit.”

Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and, Jin rush in finally and as soon as they spot you, they sigh out in relief.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re ok.”

“We knew we’d find you. Fuck, we missed you so much.”

“If you ever get kidnapped again, I will beat your ass.”

You just smile, giggling at their comments, holding them close.

“Thank you for looking for me. I love you guys so much.”

Yoongi nods to the cellar door and, him and Jimin exchange glances, “Here.” Yoongi tosses him a small black hard drive which Jimin catches seamlessly, “Throw that down there too. It’s the audio from tonight…”

The rest of you aren’t sure how they managed to do it.  

But, those questions are reserved for later.

Right now, you just want to get out of there.

Jimin smirks, standing over the edge of the hole in the floor before dropping it in, relishing in the sound it makes as it clatters down the steps.

“Should we call the police?” Hoseok asks, slightly breathless from all the excitement.

“Why would we?” Yoongi grins, shrugging his shoulders, “Girls like her disappear all the time…”

“Good point.” Jin nods returning his grin, and everyone’s eyes are still trained on the hole in the floor.

You aren’t sure if she’s dead but, you’re hoping she isn’t.

She deserves to spend the rest of her life suffering for what she did to you, for what she did to so many others…

“What happened to the guards?” You ask, lacing your fingers with Jimin and, he responds by tightening his grip on your hand.

“We knocked em out. They’re tied up in the garage.” Namjoon remarks coolly

“Let’s get out of here. We need to leave town for few days until the police figure everything out.” Taehyung says, finally dropping the knife to the floor.

“Good thing we have a ride then…” Hoseok holds up the keys to the Range Rover and, the eight of you are giddy with the promise of freedom.

Jungkook stays close to Namjoon and, as rest of you exit the house; he spots movement in the corner of his eyes.

Near the coat rack, sits a long-haired white Persian cat.

Jungkook can’t help himself.

If he isn’t going to kill this terrible woman, he’s at least going to take her cat.

Hit her where it hurts you know?

“Hyung…” He stops Namjoon and, he looks confused for a moment until he spots what Jungkook is pointing out.

Jungkook doesn’t wait to reach out to the furry creature, “ Here kitty kitty.”  

The cat rubs against his hand, tiny purs erupting from it’s mouth and, Jungkook smiles as he takes it into his arms.

Namjoon smirks fondly at the two of them before his eyes light up when he sees the name engraved on the cat’s golden collar.

“Cognac.” He breathes and, he and Jungkook share a moment as they exit the house.

The eight of you pile into the Range Rover, with Jin in the driver’s seat and, immediately, you find yourself beside Jimin.

“I thought I lost you…” He whispers desperately, placing a few kisses to your lips.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper back, smiling into his lips before leaning forward to make an announcement to the rest of the car, “Hey guys uh…I think I have a way we can leave town for a bit.”

“How?” Hoseok furrows his brow, leaning around Jimin to see you.

“With this…” You grin and, from the middle of your bra, you pull out several bundles of money, each of them labeled $20,000.

You left the bones in the cellar for the police to find.

But the money?

The money, you took with you.

The police wouldn’t need it for their investigation right?

The seven of them look at you in shock before Yoongi lets out a sound you’ve never heard him make before; it’s pure unfiltered joy.

“Oh fuck yeah…”

Plage de Maeva, Tahiti- Two Months Later

Justice came in pieces.

It started with Cognac and, the massive fortune Lady left behind; both of which were returned to their rightful owner, the man at the river.

Then came Jaebeom; the eight of you dropped off a few thousand for him at the club, along with your findings.

A different precinct responded to the distress call from Lady’s home.  

She survived the figurative fall yes but, the fall from grace that would soon follow completely destroyed her.

She was brought in on 9 counts of first degree murder, 7 counts of kidnapping, stalking, conspiracy to commit fraud and, a myriad of other charges.  

The suits were brought in as well and, suffered similar fates.

Between them, 293 years of prison was to be served.

The staff at the motel, the patrons of the Chamomile Country Club and, even Clementine herself were all publically humiliated when the news broke of Lady’s true nature.

She had been paying them all for their silence.

No charges were brought against them but, their statuses as pariahs seemed fitting enough.

The news came to all of you quite late because, you were far too busy enjoying your own personal victories…on an island called Tahiti.

520,000 was certainly enough to get you out of town and, by the looks of it, you may never return…

“Every second, every minute, man I swear that she can get it Say if you a bad bitch put your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high Tell 'em dim the lights down right now, put me in the mood I'm talking 'bout dark room, perfume Go, go!”  

Yoongi’s voice echoes loudly with the help of his microphone as he raps the lyrics to a rather befitting song by Kendrick Lamar.

It was karaoke night on the rooftop of your resort and the eight of you, along with your loved ones are enjoying every second of it.

Hoseok rushes on stage with Yoongi, laughing as he does, “I recognize your fragrance (hol' up!) You ain't never gotta say shit (woo!) And I know your taste is A little bit (mmm) high maintenance (ooh) Everybody else basic You live life on an everyday basis with-“ He holds the mic out and, the rest of you scream the lyrics with beaming smiles.

“POETIC JUSTICE, POETIC JUSTICE- IF I TOLD YOU A FLOWER BLOOMED IN A DARK ROOM WOULD YOU TRUST IT?”

Jimin is behind you, with his arms secured around your waist, giggling through the words.

He’s euphoric at the moment, he’s never been so happy in his entire life.  

Namjoon hits the stage next, and the song continues with the help of your friends and the crowd,

“I mean I write poems in these songs dedicated to you When you're in the mood for empathy, there's blood in my pen Better yet where your friends and them? I really wanna know you all I really wanna show you off Fuck that, pour up plenty of champagne Cold nights when you curse this name….”

Jungkook and Taehyung are at the front of the crowd hyping them up whilst Jin sings loudly with his fiancée.  

The next part Jimin croons into your ear, tightening his grip on you as the words have so much meaning:

“And anytime…” He sings, kissing into your neck, “You can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it- And I know just know just know just know just what you want…poetic justice, put it in a song, alright.”  

You turn in his arms then, kissing him deeply, pouring everything you have into it.

“You kept your promise.” You whisper, grinning against his lips.

“My promise?” He giggles, kissing you back, his eyes deep with emotion.

You cup his cheek, biting your lip as you hold back your tears, “The night I disappeared, you promised me, we’d get our break…”

His smile widens and, rather than use his words, he just kisses you again.

Because, he can.

Because, you’re safe.

Because, you’re his.

The rooftop is a place you often end up.  

It’s a little cliché, you think: a bunch of rich kids corralled onto a fancy ass resort building on a tropical island, the waves crashing in the background.  

But you and your friends aren’t ordinary rich kids.  

The worst any of you has ever done is rob an old lady’s house, push her down the stairs, leave her for dead and, then ruin her life but…

To be fair…

That bitch deserved it.

#jimin #bts fanfiction #bts #bts one shots #bts smut #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bts fanfics #bts fics #bts fic recs #Jungkook smut #Jungkook angst #Jungkook fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung #jungkook #bts jimin #black haired jimin #jimin sexy #jimin cute #hoseok #namjoon #jin #yoongi #jimin x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jungkook #smutcentralnet

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

“Hatred”

Word Count: 1,798

Characters: Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore (brief), Bonnie Bennett (brief), Caroline Forbes (mentioned), Alaric Saltzman (mentioned), Reader

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Platonic!Reader (sort of and not rly at the same time)

Warnings: some angst, some fluff

A/N: I’m a very bad writer, period oof

Masterlist

“Stefan, he’s your brother, who by the way hasn’t left your house in two weeks. Everything reeks of alcohol and he’s thrown up at least four times. Get your ass home and take care of him,” you scolded Stefan as you walked to the Salvatore house, carrying your purse and the groceries. 

Ever since Damon killed Zach, you had a hard time trusting him, or even trusting Stefan, but that didn’t stop you from staying with them. Partially because you had nowhere else to go. You felt like you were their babysitter, always scolding them and having to take care of them, knowing they would screw up taking care of themselves. 

“Okay, but he likes you,” Stefan retorted.

You rolled your eyes, holding back your words at him. 

“So? I don’t like him. He threw up in my room, by the way. And also, he’s your brother. Whatever happened can be made up by a few words and hugs,” you groaned.

“I’m taking care of Caroline, and we agreed that it would be better if he wasn’t around her, seeing as he almost killed her and Ric’s children,” you could imagine the look on Stefan’s face.

Your face dropped as you saw the front door open.

“I gotta go…” you hung up the call with Stefan, placing your bags down, as you held your knife, walking in cautiously.

Your eyes watered as you held in your gags, smelling the powerful stench of liquor. 

“Damon?” you called, keeping your eyes alert as you walked in the room. 

“Oh, (Y/N), you’re back!” Damon exclaimed, approaching behind you.

“You left the front door open, you idiot!” you hissed, putting your knife down.

“Oopa. Did you get anymore whiskey?” he asked you, handing you his glass as he stumbled past you. 

“Uhm, no. I didn’t? You guys have a cellar downstairs,” you said, slightly irritated.

“There’s nothing good left,” he shrugged.

“Are you-” you scrunched your eyes, glaring at him.

“I know! We should go out! Yeah, let’s go out to the grill, right now. We’ll go together,” he grabbed your arm, wrapping it around his as he tugged you.

“No, Damon. Sober up and clean this place up. Now. It smells worse than wolf in here,” you made a face of disgust.

“It doesn’t smell that bad,” he replied.

“You smell bad too. When was the last time you showered?” you asked, sounding more worried than upset.

“(Y/N), if I kept track of stupid things like that, I wouldn’t be awesome. I’d be like you.”

He’s drunk, he’s drunk you tried your hardest not to snap at him.

Your heart nearly stopped as you screamed, a body falling in front of you.

“Damon!” you yelled.

“Oh? Now how did that get there?!” he gasped, pretending to be shocked.

“Okay, that’s it,” you grabbed a small vial of vervain, throwing it at him as he yelled, his skin burning.

“(Y/N)!” he yelled.

“Snap out of it!” you yelled.

“Shut up and stop telling me what to do all the time! You’re not my mother!” he yelled.

“Damon…” you started.

He glared at you, speeding out of the house, leaving you with the body.

You sighed, getting to work as you began cleaning everything up.

---

“I don’t know what to do, here,” you groaned, laying down on the couch. The sun had set hours ago, and Damon still wasn’t back. You decided to call Bonnie to vent.

“Maybe do nothing,” she suggested.

“Funny. I’m being serious. I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, laying on the couch.

“I know, but maybe it’s not your job. Ever since Elena… died, you’ve been doing everything for him. You’ve basically become his girlfriend. You gotta stop with that,” Bonnie said.

“I haven’t done everything.  And I’m definitely not acting like his girlfriend. You know how helpless both of them are.” you scoffed.

“Yeah, and they need to grow up and learn how to deal with it.”

“Okay, did I miss something? Why is everyone avoiding him?” you asked.

“We’re not avoiding him. Look, he tried to kill us all,” she started.

“Yeah, when he thought he was trapped in that stupid necklace. You guys can’t be avoiding him for that,” you said.

“We’re not. We’re just… keeping our distance,” Bonnie paused, you could tell she was lying.

“Yeah, sure. I should go out and find him. It’s getting late,” you yawned, hanging up the call as you got up from the couch.

---

You made your way through the woods, looking for Damon and Bonnie’s words preoccupied your mind. Were you really acting like his girlfriend? You knew that you felt something, deep, deep down for Damon, but you always pretended like it didn’t exist. He didn’t feel the same way back, and he would never see you as anything more than Zach’s daughter who hates him.

“Damon,” you stood in the woods, seeing Damon standing across from you, holding a bottle of whiskey, as expected.

“(Y/N),” he replied.

“Okay, what’s going on, Damon?” you sighed.

“Nothing’s going on,” he replied, not looking at you.

“You don’t sleep at night, you spend literally all of the past two weeks drinking. You killed someone,” you started listing his actions.

“This isn’t like you,”

“You don’t know me, princess. Go run off to your little castle as stay away from me,” he rolled his eyes.

“Unfortunately for me, my castle is your home too. And I’m not leaving without you. You know, I hate you. So much. You’re annoying, you’re rude, you’re loud. Whenever I want to be alone, you consistently bother me. So, I’m doing the same. Don’t tell me you’re okay. Your mother is back from the dead, your brother and your best friends are avoiding you, and your girlfriend is in a coma till your best friend dies. It’s okay to let out your emotions. You don’t have to bottle them all up and shove them down with large quantities of alcohol. It’s okay to be human,” part of you had absolutely no idea where those words came from, but you were glad they came from somewhere, seeing them affect Damon as he looked at you.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not human, (Y/N),” he started.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t feel human. Now tell me what’s wrong,” you crossed your arms, staring at him. 

“What the hell do you want me to say?” he exclaimed.

“Say what you’re feeling.”

“Well, what do you mean?! Do you want me to say that I’m sad that my mother is alive?! ‘Cuz I’m not! I’m pissed! She pretended to be dead, she abandoned me! She left me with my stupid, abrasive, and abusive sone of a bitch father, and didn’t look back?! Do you want me to roll up into a little ball and cry? Cry like a little bitchy baby because my girlfriend is dead? Because my brother and my friends won’t talk to me?! Well then, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not getting it,” he yelled, taking a big gulp of the whiskey bottle.

“Well at least I know you didn’t turn off your humanity,” you said under your breath.

“Why are you still here? Stefan left, Caroline left, Bonnie left, everyone left,” you said.

“Because I care about you. I care about what you do, and what happens to you,” you replied softly.

“That’s cheap. You always talk about how much you hate me. How much you despise me,” he spat.

“You killed my dad, Damon. Of course, I hated you. But things change,” you sighed.

He clenched his jaw, walking towards you as your heart rate quickened. 

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, as you jumped slightly in shock.

You smiled softly, hugging him back.

“Thank you for not leaving me,” he said softly.

“I never will. How about we get home, yeah?” 

---

“Damon, no not here,” you tried pulling him up, as he laid in your bed.

“Damon, get up, this isn’t your room,” you sighed.

He ignored you, closing his eyes, as he almost instantly passed out.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tucked him into your bed.

You stroked his face softly, smiling down at him.

“You know, last time you passed out in my bed, I had to sleep with Stefan, cuz Elena was in your room. That stupid blanket hogger,” you laughed softly at the memory.

“Even then, I wasn’t mad at you for it. I don’t know why, I guess deep down....” you drifted away from your thought, looking at his sleeping figure.

“For whatever crazy reason, I like you, Damon. I don’t know why, I might never know why. But I do. I know you like Elena anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re passed out anyway, I know you can’t hear me. I don’t even know what I’m doing now. This is borderline stalkerish,” you let out a breath.

You stroked his hair softly, kissing his forehead.

“Goodnight, Damon,” you said softly, leaving your room.

---

“(Y/N)?” Damon walked into his room, looking for you, seeing you passed out on the bed, your feet on the headboard, as your head fell off the edge of the bed. He laughed softly to himself.

He took a chair, sitting next to the bed as you slept.

“You know, you’re a great friend, (Y/N),” he started.

“I’ve been… weirdly okay with Elena gone. That’s part of what was bothering me. I’ve been wondering why for a while. But now, I know. Or at least realized last night. It’s because of you. I like you, I have feelings for you. You’ve always been there. I know you don’t like me, but I had to say it. Whether or not you can hear me. I think I love you, (Y/N/N). Your annoying, stubborn ass. I love you and I don’t know why I didn’t realize before,” he held your hand, kissing it softly.

“Hmm, why are you holding my hand?” you groaned, sitting up in the bed.

“You’re awake! How long have you been awake for?” he immediately asked.

“Uhm, about 10 seconds. Do you always hold my hand and kiss it when I’m sleeping?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That depends. Do you always sleep with your head hanging off the bed? He retorted.

“Whatever. How are you feeling?” you rolled your eyes.

“Good. Want breakfast?” he asked.

“Are you gonna poison it?” you asked.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” he said sarcastically.

“Great,” you smiled.

He ran downstairs, as you heard some music playing.

You walked downstairs, leaning against the doorway as you watched him make some pancakes, dancing with his spatula.

You smiled softly to yourself, realizing you were falling more in love with him. 

But how couldn’t you? 

#the vampire diaries #The Vampire Diares #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries imagines #the vampire diaries imagine #TVD #tvd family #tvd fandom #tvd fic #tvd fanfic #tvd imagine #damon salvatore #damon #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore angst #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore fluff #damon salvatore x platonic!reader

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud. He knew there would be trails. He knew trouble would come his way. Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant. What he didn’t know. Didn’t expect. Was that literal Chaos would come his way. That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble. Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Sorry about the late update. My mom passed a few years back on Mother’s Day and last weekend hit me harder than expected. Please don’t feel the need to give any sympathy's. I’m not asking for that. Anyway, hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 98

“Light cannot exist without Darkness for without Darkness how would we...”

“Shut up!” Yami roared.

“...know what Light was.” The all too familiar voice finished.

Yami was sick of the voice. He hated it and wondered if he would instantly recognize the voice if he heard it out in the waking world. While it was similar enough to belong to the same person as the Crazy, Happy, Killer voice that spoke when he and Teris received the History of Chaos; it was also different enough for him to question if it indeed belonged to the same person.

Yami blinked remembering what he had forgotten from the last time the page of Chaos had contacted him. “You were right. The Future of Chaos wasn’t in labyrinth two hundred thousand—whatever.”

“The Future of Chaos is not to be found in labyrinth 297,353. The Future of Chaos has long since been taken and moved. Joined where it can be safe.” The voice said.

Yami puzzled at the word “joined”. But the voice was always saying strange things that didn’t make sense, so he instead focused on another question he had. “How did you know? How did I remember?”

Truthfully, Yami hadn’t actually remembered anything concerning his past dreams with the page of Chaos the night Alowishus had taken Teris and him into the labyrinth. But his distinct feeling that evening, the certainty he had that everything would be alright proved that some unconscious part of him remembered these dreams.

“You remember what you must when it is necessary. Even Chaos must bend to the will of Fate. You and the Light alone are destined to have the Future of Chaos. It is not meant for Death. Death cannot have it.”

“At least we agree on that last part.” Yami muttered.

“The time of Darkness is nearing. Your strength will rise in truth once the Light’s power reaches it peak and begins to dwindled.”

“You’re talking about the Summer Solstice. The days growing shorter and all. Not Teris’ actual power dwindling. Right?”

“The time of Darkness is nearing. Your strength will rise in truth once the Light’s power reaches it peak and begins to dwindled.” The voice said again.

Yami growled. The only thing more annoying than these forced communicative dreams with the page of Chaos, was how the voice repeated itself when it didn’t want to answer a question. Thinking of another question, Yami asked. “Why two years for my supposed rise of power? Teris didn’t have that.” Or did she, he wondered. There was no way to know for sure since they had known nothing about it until last years Summer Solstice.

“You must persevere least the world descend into Darkness. You must remember the Light and not consume it least your wrath fall upon the world.”

“Why would I forget Teris? What do you mean consume her?” Yami was disturbed by the memory of his, or more correctly the Darkness’ hunger for the Light and the way the Darkness had drawn the Light into its bottomless abyss.

“Light cannot exist without Darkness for without Darkness how would we know what Light was.”

“Shut up with that and answer me!”

There was a loud slam and slight reverberation that woke Yami up with a start. He sat up feeling groggy despite having gone to bed early. “I’m awake.”

Door still rattling on its hinges, Jax stormed. “I told you to be downstairs and ready to go before breakfast. Not only were you not downstairs but you’re far from ready.”

Yami shook off the disorientating fog of restless sleep, not feeling all there. “Just give me half a minute.”

Jax watched Yami roll out of bed and stumble, falling to a knee. “You’re not hung over, or worse still drunk are you?”

“Nope.” Yami pushed to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his pants.

Jax watched a moment longer.

Yami’s movements became quicker and more sure as he pulled on and laced his boots.

Jax relaxed seeing his Vice Captain become less clumsy. “Did you do as I said? You’re not going to get into a fight with Nozel Silva if I take you, are you?”

“Depends. Braid Face gonna start one?” Yami asked, standing and grabbing the clean white muscle shirt.

“My only concern is that you don’t antagonize or strike first.” Jax said.

“I think I can manage that.” Yami grabbed the two belts off the bedpost, first putting on the sword belt Teris got him that helped hold up his pants and carried his grimoire.

Jax watched the younger man wrap the second belt around his waist. “About last night. I hope you understand my reasoning.”

“Would it change your command if I didn’t?” Yami asked, slipping his sheathed katana into place.

Sorry he had bothered trying to smooth any hard feelings, Jax wondered aloud. “You sure you’re good to do this? The questions Alowishus posed might be unnerving. Never mind what questions Nozel and Fuegoleon might've answered. I told you to work out this aggression you’ve been feeling and you’re still brimming with it.”

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that? You’re the one who said we couldn’t go out.” Yami said.

Jax sighed and turned away. “That’s it. You’re staying.”

Cursing his temper, Yami called. “Captain, wait”

Jax stopped at the closed bedroom door.

Resting his hands on his hips, Yami told. “I won’t antagonize or start a fight with the Royal Ball of Pride. You have my word.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Jax told.

98.2

Walking out of Healer’s Hall with Randall beside him, Fuegoleon found Teris waiting outside. Stepping to his cousin, the Crimson Lions Vice Captain embraced her in a tight hug.

“Leon. I can’t breath.” Teris croaked.

“Deal.” Fuegoleon told, his hold loosening slightly when his still healing wounds complained. Eyes closed in relief and gratitude, shame began to fill him. He didn’t care what anyone said. It was his fault. The Agents of Chaos had used him to get his cousin to comply with their wishes.

Releasing her, Fuegoleon gripped Teris’ shoulders. “Never scare me like that again. You hear me.”

“Scare you? You’re the one who--” Teris stop, unable and unwilling to verbalize the truth. Fuegoleon had almost died. If they had gotten him to the healers just a few minutes later… She shook away the terrible thought and hugged him again.

“Leona said you came by yesterday.”

Teris pulled away and nodded. “You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb or tax you.”

Fuegoleon almost argued that he would've gladly given up rest to see her; but he didn’t. The visit from the Crimson Lions had taken a lot out of him. But he had endured it. As Vice Captain, he had to show the Crimson Lions he appreciated their care and efforts. More than that, he had to let them see that he was well and able to continue his duties to serve the Kingdom, its people, and the squad. After what had happened to Quince and the lingering un-healable injury that had left the previous Vice Captain unable to return to duty; Fuegoleon felt it necessary to reassure any fears or questions the squad had about him. Once his report was written and he was fully debriefed, he would go out on a mission and waylay any lingering doubts the squad might secretly have about his fitness.

Fuegoleon smiled gently. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“There you go stealing my line, again.” Teris smiled back.

Fuegoleon’s smile faltered. After what had happened during last years Summer Solstice, he had feared that the Agents of Chaos might’ve had something similar planned for Teris and Yami this time too. When Mereoleona had told him about the labyrinth and its missing contents, Fuegoleon’s relief had been overwhelming. Still, he had betrayed his cousin; breaking down and answering Alowishus Spade’s questions when they had begun torturing Nozel to make him speak. He was hardly mad at Nozel for his own worse state because the Silver Eagle had remained silent so much longer than he had. If anything, it added to Fuegoleon’s shame.

Teris saw Fuegoleon’s expression change and shook her head. “Leon, don’t. If you or Nozel had...” She swallowed unable to bear the thought of a world without either of them. Still, she knew something of the guilt Fuegoleon was feeling. She had been there too often herself. Staring up at him, she told. “If you really feel so terrible about it, I’d be happy to give you a penance.”

Randall stepped forward incensed at Teris’ unbelievable nerve.

“Anything.” Fuegoleon said, head lowered.

“You have to promise to do as I command.” Teris said, eyes hard and piercing.

Randall opened his mouth to call a stop to this; but before he could speak, Fuegoleon replied.

“Just tell me how to make this right.”

Teris gripped her cousin’s arm. “Forgive yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re ashamed at being taken by these crazies. Yami and I have been abducted and set upon so many times it’s embarrassing. You feel bad for being used. I’ve been used by these lunatics far more than I care to admit. You feel as if you betrayed me. I nearly destroyed the four kingdoms and beyond during last years Summer Solstice. Talk about betrayal.”

Fuegoleon shook his head. She didn’t understand.

“They were torturing your best friend, Leon. I would've answered any question they posed if in your place.”

“I should have been stronger. Held out longer. Nozel managed to.”

“And then Nozel would have been just as bad off as you were, if not worse.” Teris argued.

Fuegoleon exhaled, knowing she was right. It had been an impossible situation. Perfectly planned to be one.

As if reading his thoughts, Teris said. “Alowishus knows what he’s doing. He’s planned this for who knows how many years. Mana knows how many people he has helping him see it through. Using our love and care against us is what they do. They think it’s a weakness, meant to be exploited and manipulated. But it’s our strength. It’s why we go on and won’t break. Why we fight and won’t lose the war, no matter how many battles they win against us.”

Fuegoleon nodded. “We’ll beat them.”

“Do you forgive me?” Before Fuegoleon asked what she meant, Teris went on. “For our argument. For my slapping you. Do you forgive me?”

If it had been a normal argument, Fuegoleon would’ve said I don’t know, then asked if she forgave him. But their fight had been far from normal. And given what had led to it, jokes of ladies undergarments and learning Yami had taken one of Teris’ unmentionables. With the matter still unresolved, he definitely would've insisted that Teris promise to get the garment back, and probably would've demanded that she also distance herself from Yami or at the very least have some decorum where the man was concerned. But this encounter with the Agents of Chaos made issues even as important as that feel insignificant; at least at the present.

Overcome, Fuegoleon pulled Teris into squeezing hug. “Always.”

98.2.2

Teris had a light breakfast with Fuegoleon and Randall at a nearby cafe. Through an unspoken agreement the two cousin’s avoided mentioning Yami and Nozel, neither wanting to cause another argument. After, Teris made her way to Magic Investigations for a meeting with Marx.

Entering the building, Teris recognized the Counter Clerk Manager but didn’t recall his name. “Good morning.”

Axus looked up from his book. “Is it? Hadn’t noticed.”

“That it’s morning? Or that it’s a good one?” Teris questioned, smiling.

Axus’ lips twitched upward. Scowling, he pulled them back down into their usual frown. “What do you what?”

“If you would please inform Marx Francois that Teris Nova is here for our meeting.” Teris said.

Axus scrutinized her a moment, acting as if he didn’t recognize her from before. “You’re Lord Julius’ sister, eh? You look nothing like him.”

“He doesn’t make you call him Lord Julius, does he?” Teris questioned, humored.

“No one makes me do anything.” Axus snapped wondering when he had begun to show the Azure Deers Captain such respect. He turned away. “Give me a moment to call up Marx.”

“There’s nothing I have to fill out or sign for today's visit?” Teris asked.

“Not this time.” Axus said, setting down the communication crystal.

He wondered what Marx could be doing with Julius Nova’s sister that he had asked for her visit be kept off record. Axus didn’t really care. All that mattered was that Marx had asked a favor and it never hurt to win points with the person who would likely be the next Wizard King’s Advisor; especially when you liked and trusted them more than the current Advisor. There was also the case of barrel aged whiskey Marx had given him for the favor…

Axus’ lips smacked at the thought of the nine beautiful bottles waiting for him at home.

Teris lifted an eyebrow. She had found it curious waking up to find Marx had sent message requesting her to meet him at Magic Investigations this morning. Marx struck her as someone who liked to plan well in advance so the spontaneous meeting seemed odd. Adding to the wonder of it was the timing; Nozel was being debriefed at Magic Knights Headquarters at this very moment. And now she didn’t have to sign in when all visitors had to do so, unless they were the Wizard King or Magic Knights Commander.

The two turned at the sound of a door opening.

“Thank you, Axus.” Marx stayed at the door behind the front counter.

Teris gave the Counter Manager a departing smile. “Thank you.”

Axus didn’t know if it was her cheery demeanor or the fact that she remembered he existed once she had gotten what she wanted; but he found his lips tugging upward again. He pulled them back down with a grunt and inclined his head.

Teris followed Marx down a long hall and up several flights of stairs.

Marx opened a final door for her and entered behind, closing it shut. He gestured to the rectangular table. “Please, have a seat. I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here.”

“To show me something you couldn’t take out of here?” Teris guessed.

Marx paused in his trek around the table.

Teris shrugged a shoulder. “Why else would you ask for a secret meeting here when we’re having a secret meeting with everyone else this evening? That’s what this is, isn’t it? I didn’t have to sign in, and I’m sure Advisor Ellara is sitting in on Nozel’s debriefing which is going on right now.”

Marx blinked, mildly impressed by her deduction. He blinked again when Teris changed the subject with barely a pausing breath.

“Have you figured out who might've moved the Future of Chaos? Or where they moved it?” Teris asked.

“Magic Investigations is working on that. As are Julius and I.” Marx sank into the straight backed chair across from her. “Are you disappointed the Future of Chaos wasn’t in the labyrinth?”

“Hardly. Alowishus would’ve got it.”

Marx shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean do you want the Future of Chaos?”

Teris frowned. “No. The History of Chaos has been more than enough trouble. I’d be crazy to want to add to it. Even if, when, we’ve moved passed this mess and done away with the Agents of Chaos; I still wouldn’t want the Future of Chaos. It’s too much responsibility.”

“What if someone else were to find it?” Marx wondered.

“I’d feel sorry for them, but glad that stupid prophecy was wrong and it wasn’t Yami and me.” Teris answered, without hesitance.

“But wouldn’t you at least want to have a look at it?” Marx asked.

“I admit my curiosity can be comparable to Julius’. It’s certainly seen me get into enough trouble over the years. But when it comes to the Future of Chaos, I have no interest in ever seeing the thing. I’d probably be like Yami and have ignored the History of Chaos if it weren’t for the possible help it could be in dealing with the Agents of Chaos and figuring out their plans. Not that it’s been any help.” Teris griped under her breath.

Marx wondered if maybe that was why Yami and Teris were destined to have the Future of Chaos. Because neither one wanted it or its information. While Marx may not have wanted the burden of having such a thing in his grimoire, he had to admit he had a great desire to see and read the piece. Destiny was a funny thing, he thought.

Getting to the matter he had called her for, Marx said. “You’re half right. I did ask you here because I wish to show you something. Sadly my magic does not allow me to copy such things as detailed as drawings or images, or I would’ve done that and waited till our meeting this evening. But the reason for showing you doesn’t involve you so much as what you have. The History of Chaos.”

Teris straightened in her seat, interest peaked.

“Captain Jax once mentioned he overheard you ask the History of Chaos about the Master of Master’s and Alowishus Spade.” Marx said.

“Not that it’s done any good. The ink just swirls around on the page then says insufficient image.” Teris grumbled. At least after seeing Alowishus Spade for the first time, she understood why the page of Chaos had said such a thing, unable to display his ever changing image.

“Have you ever asked it about Yurist?” Marx questioned.

Teris blinked, mouth falling open. Yurist was the one who had written both the History and Future of Chaos. How was it that she had never considered asking the page about its author?

Seeing her expression, Marx sighed. “Are all the Nova’s guilty of ignoring the painfully obvious? Or is it just you and Julius?”

Teris bristled; but held her tongue.

“Please do so when you get a chance. For now,” Marx pushed a long, wide, leather clad folder across the table toward her, “please look at that and ask the History of Chaos.”

“Ask it what? What is this?” Teris pulled the hard backed folder closer.

“It’s a small portrait that was found in the ruins of an unearthed city. The team of Magic Investigators assigned to the task have been focusing on what we believe use to be the building that once held Yurist’s lab.”

“Why haven’t I heard of this!”

Marx tilted his head. “Do I know of every mission you Magic Knights go out on?”

“No but--”

“Even Magic Knights Commander Greywright doesn’t know every assignment Magic Investigations is working on. You, Vice Captain, certainly have no right or expectation to know everything that goes on in this division.”

Teris’ shoulders tensed even as they hunched, her form shrinking.

“For your information, I came in before sunrise this morning to learn a fellow Investigation Mage had unearthed that.” Marx inclined his head to the still closed folder. “Which is why I sent you message asking you to come, not knowing when Advisor Ellara would be away again to give us chance for you to see and question the History of Chaos about it.”

“Sorry.” Teris mumbled. She was so use to people, especially her superiors keeping secrets from her and Yami about matters that concerned them that she had assumed this had been more of the same.

“We do not know who the couple in the portrait is, though a number of us here have theories.” Marx said.

“So you want me to what? Look at the picture and ask the History of Chaos about the people in it?” Teris asked, not understanding why. “It doesn’t work that way. It only answers questions about the history of Chaos.”

“If that were true why would it attempt to show you the image of Alowishus Spade?” Marx questioned.

“And fail, saying insufficient image.” Teris retorted.

“If all the History of Chaos did was just strictly cover the history of Chaos why would it even make an attempt at showing you the image of Alowishus Spade or the Master of Master's? However old Alowishus Spade is, I truly doubt he’s old enough to have been alive during the time of Chaos’ reign and defeat which brought about Order.”

Teris frowned, having never considered that. Her eyebrows pulled together, wondering at Marx’s pointed question. Shadows of fragments flinted through his mind trying to coalesce and puzzle something out, but something else pieced together first.

Teris’ eyes lifted to Marx, realization dawning. “You think the portrait is of Yurist.”

98.3

Yami found Teris out at the Saber Wolf pens. His appearance announced by the beasts long before Teris heard or saw him.

“I’ll have you know I had to use my mana sense to find you. What are you doing out here?” Yami almost asked if she wanted to go for a ride, but remembered Jax’s order and bristled.

Teris gave No Name the signal to return to his kennel. “I thought we agreed not to do that unless necessary.”

“When I’d still be walking around searching for you, I consider it necessary. It’s a stupid agreement anyway.”

Teris latched the kennel gate. “Privacy is hardly stupid.”

“If there’s no secrets between us why the need for privacy?” Yami half teased.

Teris turned to him, questioning brow raised. “Do you really want to know every time I go to the baths?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Yami grinned, lewdly.

“Yami.” Teris scolded, lightly. Blushing, she closed the gap between them, burying her face in his chest.

Yami chuckled, holding her to him. “Let me see that pretty blush, Princess.”

Teris shook her head, burrowing deeper into him. It was stupid, but she suddenly became emotional about what happened during this mornings meeting with Marx. Her arms tightened around Yami, seeking his soothing strength. She didn’t even know what she was so distressed about. It wasn’t like the History of Chaos could have been talking about Alowishus. No one could be that old. Then again the man did use corpse magic. And when had anything surrounding Chaos or the works Yurist wrote not spelled some kind of terrible for them.

Yami looked down at the top of her head, growing serious. “What’s this?”

Teris shook her head again.

Yami frowned, a sudden swell of anger bubbling inside him. His teeth ground together, muscle in his jaw ticking in cold burning rage. His arms tightened around Teris. He couldn’t even say what he was so mad about. All he knew was that Teris was upset and he wanted to obliterate whatever had upset her. Pressing his lips to the crown of her head, Yami’s eyes slipped closed. He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, soaking in Teris’ calming warmth. With effort he forced his fisted hands to relax and uncurl; reasoning with himself that he didn’t even know if it was something or someone he could hit.

“Teris. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Teris mumbled against Yami’s strong chest, praying that it truly was nothing.

“Look at me and say that.”

Teris lift her head at Yami’s tone. He sounded angry. But when her eyes met his there was nothing but love and concern.

Yami caressed her cheek. “Talk to me, Ikigai. Tell me what’s wrong.”

98.4

Iban paused in plucking mushrooms and looked at a bird flying overhead. Unlike the other creatures of the forest, the Jay wasn’t startled away by the slithering presence of the person who stalked closer. Odd, since Jay’s were rarely seen without their mate nearby and Iban’s keen eyes hadn’t seen the flashier male.

Leveling his head, Iban turned to the stalking presence. “It doesn’t matter how quiet you are. I always know when you’re about.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned that the Darkness within Yami had reach such strength so soon?” Ellara demanded, getting right to the point.

“I figured your plaything would have told you. Whether he wanted to or not.” Iban said.

“I’ve used Olsen far too much of late.” Ellara told, angry she had been forced to use him at all.

“Is that not what he is for?” Iban questioned.

“What’s it matter to you what I use him for? It’s you who had a deal with the Master.” Ellara said.

“A forced deal to stay out of your way and not interfere with your Master’s plans, or tell anyone anything I know.” Iban said.

“And have you kept that deal?” Ellara asked.

Iban thought of the bit about his family's past that he had told Yami, and what little he had told Jax three weeks ago. Clearly the vow of silence Alowishus had forced him into seemed to think he had kept the deal since the people he cared about were still alive.

Iban wondered if the Captain had found the journal he had told him about. The journal that had belonged to one of the earlier Agents of Chaos’ Masters. The Master who had battled and lost to the Clover Kingdoms last light magic user before Teris. Jax had returned five days after Iban had told where he might find the journal only to leave with Yami and Teris shortly after returning. It wasn’t as if Iban was going to ask the Captain if he had found the thing. He had tested Jax enough with his comments about Bronn the day he revealed what few secrets he could. He had certainly tested the binding vow and jeopardized his loved ones enough.

Looking at Ellara, Iban answered. “My family's existence depends on that deal. Your Master made sure of that.”

Ellara glared, not trusting him.

“Though was such care necessary when a simple traitor could turn himself in and confess all your Master's plans? No doubt your puppet Sir Jorah, along with Magic Knights Commander Greywright and countless others know all about your Master's plans by now.” Iban said.

“As if the Master is careless enough to let a low level follower know his plans.” Ellara shot back.

“Do you know his plans?” Iban asked, pointedly. “Wife and follower you may be, but people like your husband and Master hold all sorts of secrets. Like how to kill a traitor from afar.”

Ellara’s eyes widened. After Greywright had stolen point in dealing with the traitor Flic, she had returned to her office and sent word to Alowishus. Her Master's brief response had been clear. She was to stay well away from the prisoner. When Flic had died yesterday evening, she knew Alowishus had been the cause; but figured he had sent some other follower to infect or slowly poison Flic.

Iban’s golden eyes seemed to glow in the heavily shaded forest. “I know a dark magic decay spell with I hear of its symptoms. It is a slow, terrible way to die. Does your Master have a piece of all his followers? How did he manage to get each of you to willing hand a piece of yourselves over?”

“What do you mean?” Ellara asked, breathless.

“I suppose your Master or some loyal follower could have been lucky. Found some bit of Flic’s person to use for the spell. But Alowishus Spade does not strike me as the type of person to leave things to luck. If I were to guess, I would say it came in the form of an initiation ritual for joining the Agents of Chaos. It is how I would have done it. Something easily done and given with little to no question, and soon forgotten about in the joyous rapture of family found and collective cause.” Sensing Ellara’s quickening heartbeat, Iban cooed. “Do not beat yourself up, Advisor. You are hardly alone in being tricked into willingly, if not happily giving up a piece of yourself. How many other fools—excuse me, followers have joined Alowishus Spade’s supposed cause?”

“Shut up!”

“I doubt he would do to you what he did to that traitor. You are his honored and beloved wife, after all. If he would harm you, what hope does anyone else have of being spared?”

Ellara sneered. “You’re a snake hissing nothing but lies. Twisting and turning peoples words and deeds. Now unless you wish to see the Darkness within Yami bleed out and start to effect him. Tell me just how bad it is.”

“If I am such lying snake who does nothing but twist and turn peoples words and deeds, why would you believe anything I say?” Iban asked.

“Do you want the power within Yami to consume him? The Darkness inside is greater than expected.”

“Greater than you expected.” Iban corrected. “I knew from the start that Yami Sukehiro was more than just a vessel for the Darkness. As to your question. No. I do not wish to see the Darkness consume him. The world would end if it did. Which makes me wonder why your Master wouldn’t want that. Isn’t that the purpose of all this? To end this existence in the foolish hope of beginning the next? Unless that is not his true goal.” Before Ellara could speak, he went on. “As for how bad it is. The Darkness in Yami is already bleeding out and affecting him. He has been more volatile. Angrier than usually. Possibly even more desirous of Teris and the Light that is inside her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? The deal--”

“The deal made with your Master does not include feeding you information. That is something you tried to force upon me. I went along with for a time because it was fun and suited me. But I have long since grown weary of it. If you want such information, try affecting your plaything. Not that you will get anything of use. Olsen has little care unless it is for life's beauty or the romantic. Even if he were around more, he would not see much.”

Ellara raised a brow, realizing. “You’re protective of your sole friend.”

“Hardly.” Iban silently cursed, unable to make himself believe the lie let alone convince her of it.

“So Iban Halvor does have a heart. Interesting.” Ellara would've been glad to have something to use against the Blood Mage. But her own care for Olsen wouldn’t let her hurt him to force Iban into anything.

Iban watched Ellara turn around and step away.

“The Darkness within Yami cannot overtake him before it is time. We will handle it.” Ellara said.

It was an effort for Iban not to use his magic to end the woman then and there. Thankfully she used her transportation charm and disappeared before his control was tested further. No longer in the mood to be surrounded by life and fresh air, Iban looked down at the basket of harvested herbs and mushrooms. He didn’t have all he needed for the brews and potions he was making. But he had enough to get started.

Waving a few bees away, Iban headed back to the base.

98.5

Seated in his bedroom, Bran’s eyes cleared. Even though the encounter he had witnessed had happened deep inside the property’s forest, he turned to the closed door half expecting to see Iban standing there.

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day. Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

“Yami is not the concern here. It is Teris. At this rate she will not survive the Ritual of Darkness. If she doesn’t grow stronger the Darkness within Yami will kill her and the Light inside her with it.”

#yami sukehiro #marx francois #black clover #light in the darkness

[werezmastarbucks]

more like honeymoon [3]

previous part

word count: 2279

warnings: idk why I keep making Damon the butt of the joke

music: in the text

SMITHEREENS by twenty one pilots segment

You were exhausted beyond belief as you sped down the road. Soon, there’s a very familiar turn that leads towards the Salvatore mansion. And from there, the exit into the normal, moving world. You couldn’t believe you’d see them again. Even Damon, whose guts you came to hate over time, even before he threw you into prison. That’s what isolation does to a person. That’s what the illusion of freedom does to a human. Prison was prison after all.

You nearly crashed into the tree that stood lonely on the turn, the landmark Salvatore oak. It would’ve killed you, and that was unnecessary now.

There were three shadows on the lawn as you left the car. It was almost midnight. You limped across the yard, feeling ribs poke your lungs. Kai must have cracked at least one from how hard he punched back. He never held back, in anything, and for that, you respected him. Because he respected you enough to inflict real pain, like you were equal. Although you clearly weren’t.

Elena didn’t stand the tension and ran towards you, got you in her arms, and you suffocated on her Elena smell. The smell of home. You couldn’t believe you were going back now. Damon was the same. Why wouldn’t he be? Dark and ironic, a little concerned, he evaluated you with his careful glance.

“How did you get away from him?”

“I killed the motherfucker”, you grumbled. The wounds were fresh, both physical and mental. Realizing that you’ve technically been his prisoner all this time... That is something yet to digest. Here you had the honors to finally be the last of Kai’s archtypes: the victim. You had been a lover, a friend and an ally already. Like an invisible hand was dealing Tarot cards, now you had to get a mouthful of bitterness. You brushed it aside.

“So I had some time ahead”.

“How have you been?” Elena asked, without letting go of you. You eyed the third silhouette, almost blending in with the night darkness. The witch, to do the spell. It was somebody you didn’t know: a tall, dark guy, a little menacing. Who knows what changed in nine months.

“Does he know where you went?” Damon asked.

“Of course he does. But he’s there, and I’m here. Can I go sleep now? We have to do it tomorrow, or he’s going to catch up with us”.

Damon narrowed one eye. The prick didn’t trust you. Perhaps the memories of you opposing him were too fresh.

“You sure you’re ready to leave your boyfriend here?” he asked. Elena shot him a warning glance.

You lifted your shirt, wincing painfully, to show the blue bruising on your ribs. You could swear it was the shape of Kai’s loving kiss.

In the house, you were turning your head right and left as if something could change here. Virtually everything was the same, except three (!) new people inside. The witch boy was quiet. He looked like he was cautious, and you thought, he should be, in case Kai catches him.

Elena brought you a cup of coffee. You noticed a hip of winter coats in the corner of the room, piled up on the couch. The fireplace was blazing as if it was cold outside, too.

“What month is it?” you asked, dizzy with exhaustion and pain.

“It’s Christmas”, Elena said.

“Are you going to be okay? Do you need... blood?”

“I’ll be fine at midnight. The day starts again, and my body is the same as when I first came here... well, you know”.

You looked at Damon, tried to picture him here, when he was stuck here with Bonnie and Kai. He must have been going crazy in this cage with two people he found hard to tolerate. His eyes were flickering thoughtfully with the flames from the fireplace.

“Hey”, you looked at the witch guy. You realized you didn’t know his name. You reached out to him, and he accepted your hand.

“I’m Frank”, he said gloomily. Elena looked at her wristwatch.

“Oh”.

“What?”

“That’s a funny name for a witch”, you said, “all the witches I know have extra names”.

Frank shrugged like it was a punch at him.

“Frank, I’m scared Kai will come. He knows I’m going back, and he doesn’t want to let me go”.

“Yeah, what are we going to do if he comes?” Elena asked, fear in her eyes. She really was afraid of Kai. That still impressed you. You still felt like a child, amazed at something. He scared somebody like this. So that they look out the window, small shivers on the back of their necks, their eyes darting from side to side. He creeped someone out so hard their lips went dry as they sucked the air in, listening hard, listening for his steps approaching. Your Kai.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put a signal spell. It will shield the territory around the house. If someone approaches - anybody at all - we’ll know”.

The three of you looked at Frank. He looked grave, like he was taking this whole thing too seriously. You wondered how long he’s been in this Mystic Falls mess. How little he meant for the rest of them that they decided he’d be fit to go here and face you and Kai Parker.

You blinked tiredly.

“I’m blacking out. I need some sleep”, you muttered. Coffee did not energize you; quite the opposite. The soft warm liquid made you want to sleep badly. Your mortal yesterday’s body was almost collapsing.

Elena helped you come upstairs into Stefan’s room, and you nested on his bed.

This whole rapid trip over the whole country almost got you dead. It was crazy. In the morning, you were back in Hawaii, in your spacious, beautiful house on the North Shore of Oahu, and now you were back here on the edge of Virginia, trying to fight your way back into the usual world where living and traveling cost, where there were rules and people ready to stop you when you get too carried away with having fun... You wondered what you loved so much about that outer world, and it was your last thought before you fell asleep.

In the morning, everybody looked much better and more relaxed. You stretched your back, hearing the bones crack healthily, and the only pain you felt from yesterday was ghostly. It would pass soon, just like hurt from being deceived by the person you loved the most in the world. Once you get out...

The time of eclipse was coming. You felt weird, hollow as you sat at the breakfast table, and thought of all the breakfasts Kai made you. He was so inventive. Nine months is thirty days nine times. Not once you had the same breakfast. He had all the ways to cook food in his head, and it horrified you. He had spent so much time alone he has learnt literally everything one can learn. It was wrong.

You packed your bag and brought it downstairs. Damon eyed it judgingly. You reckoned he was being so cold because he felt extremely guilty. You could bet your own life that the moment they did the spell he was sorry about being harsh. He wished he could get you back. Inside, Damon was soft, but outside, he had this thick, hard skin that was almost like scar tissue.

“What’s this?”

“These are my things”.

Damon’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to say something sarcastic, but Frank rushed in between you, pushing you away and out of the house.

“We gotta go”, he said shortly. And nodded at the bag.

“Damon, you’ll get it? Let’s go”.

Elena was carrying the coats in her hands as disgruntled Damon walked side by side with her with your bag.

“The witch boy is getting too bold”, he thought out loud.

“I just want to get away from here before this guy comes here and kills us all”, Frank replied without changing the pace. He was walking through the forest, leading the way.

“We won’t get out of here before eclipse either way”, you reminded him.

“Uh-huh”.

“Is it cold there?” you asked Elena. She shook her head to throw the hair away from her face.

“This winter is very cold. Just like when we were little kids”.

You could feel excitement rise in you. Christmas. Snow. Changing days. It was good before, and was about to get even better. You almost shone from the inside.

The witch observed the forest. He was very quiet. You looked through the trees too, bringing the last look on this strange world that became not what it was supposed to be to you.

You descended into the well of the cave, Damon threw your bag on the ground right into the circle of the sun.

“What’s inside anyway?”

“Clothes”.

“Clothes?” he repeated, apalled.

“Listen, there’s things you can’t get back in 2010s. Rare things. And expensive jewelry, okay? I got diamonds there, Damon, I’m not throwing them away”.

Damon was silent for some time. He was trying to figure out, inside his brain, what life has been like for you, for the last nine months. He would never guess right, even though he must have been pretty close.

Everybody looked up at the sky and the dark ring coming to consume the sun. Palpable nervousness filled the air. You stepped towards each other. Elena pursed her lips like she was pondering something.

“Isn’t it bad we’re leaving him again?” she asked.

They all looked at you like you could give them a prognosis on Kai.

“Fuck that guy”, you said gloomily. Frank shook his hands like a surgeon before the operation. Damon was eyeing you with dark satisfaction.

“He wasn’t what you expected?”

You kept silent.

“Did he hurt you?”

You thought of all the times Kai accidentally slapped you on the head while he was cooking. His damn hands always flying all over the kitchen. After being slapped around like a junior dish girl, you learnt to stay away when he’s busy with the pans and plates. The only thing you did was chopping.

“A lot”, you replied.

Elena squeezed your hand.

“Isn’t he going to be much worse once he gets out?” Frank asked suddenly, “If you said he was that mad before... now that we’re taking away Y/N and leaving him behind. And if he has the spell and the ascendant, that means he’s going to get out on his own, and he’ll be vengeful”.

His words echoed in the cave like hammer.

“Bonnie’s destroying this world as soon as we get out”, Damon said. Your head snapped to him.

“What?”

“He won’t have time to get out. He’ll need to wait until tomorrow, and by that time, this prison world will be gone. And Parker will be gone, too”.

There wasn’t much more time for talking; the eclipse was almost full. You took the witch’s elbow as he chanted and lifted the new ascendant, letting it levitate. Elena held your hand on the other side. As Frank’s hand got free, he took your palm and squeezed it, too, and you finally realized you’re going home.

The white light shone upon you, carrying you and your bag away.

The forest was white, too. Your ankles slowly got cold and, as you looked down, you saw snow. It was closing to evening in the woods in Mystic Falls, and the light was slowly draining from the sky. From the first look it seemed like the real universe wasn’t as brilliant as the magical prison world.

You couldn’t believe you made it. You sighed to see the foggy air leaving your mouth. And saw Damon and Elena’s mutilated smiles turning into gaping mouths of anguish. The traveling spell wore out almost all magic from Kai, and he turned back into his usual self, dropping Frank skin. In the last blast of remaining magic, he threw his hand forward and sent the vampires away. The leaped through the air, Damon further and higher than Elena. She must have bought him the last second when she regretted leaving Kai behind. You told yourself once again, he was changing. There was a twisted type of rationality in him now. You stood on one leg as the cold snow pierced your feet through your Converse sneakers.

Damon was impaled on the thick outstanding branch on a tree, groaing in pain. Elena was thrown against another tree, twisting in the air, and collided with the shaft with her back, breaking her spine in half. They didn’t manage to utter a word.

Damon was now hanging there, cursing like a sailor he might have been once, many years ago.

“Cold?” Kai asked. You shrugged.

“Should’ve gotten some warm shoes, too”.

“Ah, you weakling. It’s just snow!”

“I’m just going to get sick, Kai”.

He looked at you and smiled. You knew everything would go well, and you were still happy to see him, like it was a crazy stunt he was supposed to pull. Although you knew that by the time you went to bed last night Frank had already been dead.

“Hop on”, he gave up, picking up your bag. You pushed on his shoulders and jumped on his back, clutching his sides with your knees. You pressed your face to the back of his head for a second. Soft, slightly curly hair. Your Kai.

The last things Damon heard from the tree were,

“Let’s nick his car”.

“No”.

“Why not?!”

“Because we’re not scoundrels, Kai! It’s not the magical world anymore, you can’t steal people’s cars!”

“Oh my god...”

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #damon salvatore #tvd imagine #vampire diaries imagine

[auroraawrites]

enlightenment (fred weasley x reader)

gif not mine! all credit goes to the owner

requested by anon: I always love to read some Fred Weasley if you’re up for it. Will literally read anything but how about some overprotective Fred? Bonus points if it’s some kind of Order mission that either just you or both of you go on? Thanks!

warnings: slight angst but mainly just fluff about an overprotective fred

author’s note: i’m! in! love! with! fred! weasley! there i said it. i love him with all my heart. i hope you guys don’t mind that i used she/her pronouns here! i got a bit carried away writing it so it's a bit long but enjoy :)

(everything on my blog is my own writing. please do not plagiarize my work nor repost it anywhere else without my permission. all rights reserved)

---

you’d always known that being a member of the order of phoenix meant being willing to put your life on the line for the betterment of the wizarding world. you had entered the group well aware of the risks you faced ahead, willing and ready to die fighting for the cause you believed in. however, some individuals, namely your best friend fred weasley, had apparently failed to understand the risks that came with the job as he stood there now, arguing with moody on your behalf, “this is ridiculous! you can’t have y/n do this mission alone! what if she gets hurt?” 

moody had just assigned you your first task as an official member of the order: tailing corban yaxley, one of lord voldemort’s most valued death eaters. according to trusted sources of the order, yaxley had been seen conversing with a group of shifty ministry officials and moody wanted you to follow him and ensure that nothing was going on with them that may interfere with the order’s current plans. 

zoning back to reality at the sound of your name, you stared incredulously at the back of fred’s head, a streadying rush of anger building in your stomach. it was hard enough having to spend every minute of your day actively trying to hide your feelings from your best friend, but now, when the one opportunity came for you to relieve yourself of your unrequited love, fred had decided that it was just too much of moody to ask from you to go about this mission by yourself. 

“-she’s only just joined the order-” ignorant to your anger, fred had continued on with his attempt of trying to change moody’s mind. 

“she is right here. she can talk for herself. SHE doesn’t need anyone to tell her what she can and cannot do,” you said, cutting off fred, who had now turned to you with a disbelieving look. stepping in front of him with a scowl, you met his eyes with a defiant stare. “i don’t know what has gotten into you but you’re being a downright git!” you seethed, stepping forward so that you were now nose-to-nose with the ginger. despite your anger, your heart gave a painful flutter at the close proximity that you two were now in. 

your traitorous heart only fueling your anger further, you whirled on the spot and looked up at moody with a determined look, “i’d love to take on the mission. in fact, i’ll start in the morning.” 

not bothering check if you had gained moody’s approval, you spun on your heel and dashed out of the room, taking the steps two at a time and slamming the bedroom door shut behind you. 

everything’s going to be fine, you thought as you lay in bed, trying to convince yourself of what you had just agreed to. truth be told, you were a little frightened at the prospect of having to face one of voldemort’s most valued death eaters by yourself. but fred- oh fred. you honestly didn’t know why you had reacted as you did. you knew he meant no harm but you couldn’t stand watching him speak on your behalf, acting as if he was your boyfriend when you knew that was something he would never be. 

turning over in bed, you stared at the moving picture of that sat on your nightstand. the photograph you sat lumped between fred and george, waving green flags high in the air in support of the irish quidditch team. the memory seemed so long ago. letting out a small sigh, you turned again and pulled the covers over your head and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. 

---

you woke early next morning, and hurried to get ready, packing as much as you could fit into a small, brown suitcase before trying to make your way downstairs as quietly as you could. it wasn’t that you didn’t wish to see anyone before you left, on the contrary, you really wished you could make things right with fred before you went. however, having been friends with him for the past seven years, you knew that he would try his very best to convince you to stay and you didn’t think you could handle another argument so early in the morning. 

so, when you arrived at the bottom of the stairs, it came as quite a shock to you to spot the sleepy figure, who stood leaning against the wall next to the mantle, fully dressed and a similar suitcase parked at his side. at the sight of you, fred had jerked awake now and stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite read, “i’ve been assigned to this case too.” he said wearly, eyeing you as if you would soon boil over with rage. 

he was quite right to be expecting for such a reaction for when the words left his mouth your features twisted into a disbelieving scowl, “frederick weasley, you did not!” you cried hotly, grip tightening around the handle of your suitcase. you and fred. alone. living together while you tailed yaxley around europe. your heart was pounding in your ears and you couldn’t quite tell if it was because you were so angry with him that you wanted to throttle him or if it was the idea of spending so much time with the weasley that had caused it. 

not a single ounce of regret evident in his features, fred crossed the room and grabbed your free hand in his. goosebumps rushed up your arm as you stared down at his hand, tightly clutched around your own before turning your eyes back on his. “there’s really no use arguing about it. moody decided it after you left.” 

decided my arse, you thought, full well knowing that he had volunteered. 

apparently spotting another fit of anger within you, he pulled you towards the middle of the room and pushed you into the fireplace before following after with a fistful of floo powder. his arm wrapping around you as he squished in beside you, he shouted the name of the safehouse and the two of you were suddenly engulfed in flames and disappeared. 

---

when you arrived at the safehouse situated across from yaxley’s current place of residence, you were both surprised to step out into a small room, sparsely inhabited by a lone bed, small kitchen unit, and a door that led to an even smaller bathroom. the safehouse had been designed in mind for one inhabitant and fred being courteous of your sour mood, had offered to take the floor beside the bed so that you could have it for yourself. still angry, you hadn’t rejected his offer. 

the first two days at the safehouse were spent in silence as you refused to acknowledge his presence, only talking to him at meals when you asked him to pass you the pepper. but sure enough, by the third day, your anger was ebbing away as you found yourself muffling small laughs at the antics he played to get your attention. fred was your best friend and you had never found it in you to stay mad at him for long.

staring out the shutters of the windows that faced yaxley’s residence, you tried to ignore the small bubble animals that fred had now enchanted to mock fight. you were nearly about to let out a slip of laughter at the sight of two rinosaureses that had been charging at one another, when the sight of a hooded figure coming out of yaxley’s house caused you to inhale sharply. immediately, fred was beside you, staring out the window with narrowed eyes. spotting yaxley’s figure disappear into a dark alleyway, you spun and hurried towards the door, determined to find out what he was up to. 

“where are you going?” fred asked incredulously from across the room as he watched you pull on your boots. “we were told to report to moody if we saw anything suspicious,” he said. 

shooting him a smirk, you pulled your arms through your coat, “and when did you ever follow the rules fred weasley? besides, we don’t even know who that was. we need more information if we’re going to report back.” you said, turning to yank open the door. but before you could do so, an arm reached forwards from behind you and slammed the door shut, effectively trapping you inside. 

"are you mad? you’re not going to face a known death eater alone!” fred responded, his voice rising with every word. 

“oh come off it.” you scoffed, trying not to let it show that you were flustered at his close proximity. you were still pressed against the door. “you wouldn’t have objected if I was george or lee for that matter! in fact, you probably would’ve been the first out the door!” you shouted, matching his volume. 

“yeah, but you’re not lee or george now are you!” he roared

“then what am i fred? please enlighten me because i am ti-” your words were cut off sharply by fred’s lips as they met your own roughly. shocked, you stood perfectly still as his lips moved upon yours, a sense of desperation conveyed in the way he held your face between his hands. his lips were soft and his body was hard against your own. slowly, he pulled away, a red flush creeping up his cheeks, “I like you, you bloody idiot” he professed almost angrily. both of you were breathing hard. 

you couldn’t have been more shocked at the confession. for years you believed your crush to be one-sided. still shocked, you stood silently against the door, struggling to find the words. fred, mistaking your shock for rejection, backed away slowly, “sorry, i didn’t mean to. i just-” 

finally finding your voice, you smiled up radiantly at the red haired boy with an equally red face, “you don’t know how long i’ve waiting for this.” stepping forwards, you pulled his face down to meet your own, returning his earlier kiss with a sweet one of your own. 

after reporting yaxley’s movements to moody as instructed, the two of you had returned to the burrow, red faced and hands gripped tightly between them. spotting their embarrassed faces appearing out of the fireplace, george had let out a shout of triumph, turning to bill with his palm outstretched and met with a small pouch of coins from a reluctant bill. laughing, you looked back up at fred, another smile forming upon your lips. you were home. 

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #angst #protective fred weasley #request #oneshots #imagine #imagines #fluff

[mwolf0epsilon]

How about a Sammy and Wally teaming up for once to get out of a sticky situation only to never speak of it again as no one would believe they worked well together :3c

Summary: Just like how water and oil didn't mix, there was no way Sammy could ever be openly nice to Wally... Or could there?

---

[[MORE]]

     Water and Oil. That was the sort of relationship Sammy Lawrence and Wally Franks had between them.

Under normal circumstances they did not mix, avoided getting involved with each other, and overall preferred to maintain a general distance.

Like both liquids, they were polar opposites of sorts.

Sammy was somewhat anti-social with a rather finicky temper that could be set off easily, while Wally was highly sociable, very easy-going and carefree.

Where the music director was a workaholic by nature (to the point it became quite detrimental to his own health), the janitor was more on the lazy side (only ever becoming invested in certain very particular interests of his).

So really, the hostilities and recurring arguments weren't unexpected whenever they crossed paths.

No one expected anything less from them.

     Everyone knew that Wallace Franks was a friendly person. He was born and raised in Brooklyn and had quite a mind-boggling background that often contradicted itself or put in question what sort of upbringing his parents had subjected him and his sisters to.

Questions that were met with a smile, a shrug and an eagerness to follow a routine full of cut corners, cleaning up spills, ignoring Mr. Connor and trying to avoid stepping on both Sammy's and Mr. Drew's toes.

He didn't particularly dislike anyone (although Thomas's pretentious tone made his blood boil quite a bit), and felt a little off put when others found reason to pick fights with him (fights he could in theory win if he felt like getting into a scrap with any of these fancy white boys who never once so much as got a punch to the gut or a kick to the balls).

Avoidance was the best survival tactic, one he stuck to unless personally blighted by anyone that thought he wouldn't retaliate.

He was a friend you could count on, but also a natural trickster, so if he wanted to be a problem he certainly could be.

The two things keeping him in line were sheer laziness and a good disposition. Why make enemies when you could make new pals? And thinking too hard on things wasn't really worthwhile in his humble opinion… Just look at Sammy Lawrence!

     Sammy… Wally didn't hate him (like most people thought he should, considering the blond was such an antagonistic asshole towards him). If anything he pitied the guy quite a bit.

The music director was an aggressive bundle of nerves. A ticking time-bomb that was just ready to be triggered, and it often seemed like no one cared enough to keep an eye on his well being.

Wally wasn't a medical professional of course, but even he knew when someone should step back and let themselves play stupid for a while to combat the amounting stress. Sammy was in his early forties (only 5 years older than Wally) and in desperate need of partying and some no-strings-attached sex. You know, the usual stupid adult stuff that got you in trouble if you weren't legal or if you weren't a straight white male.

Either way, all opinions aside, Wally didn't find reason to hate Sammy. He could understand why someone would carry themselves so tightly guarded when the economy was in shambles and you were trying to make something out of yourself. Although the same consideration did not apply to the other...

Because Sammy sure seemed to find reasons to absolutely despise him.

  "He's an incompetent brat with no respect for others! He's a petty thief, inept at maintaining the pipes, sloppy with cleaning and absolutely infuriating in how he brags about skills and smarts he clearly lacks!" The Brooklynite winced as he hid behind Norman, who was glowering down at the blond nuisance currently screaming at him.

A leaky pipe in Sammy's office that he'd been trying to fix had gotten displaced and destroyed a nearly completed composition, setting back the band quite a bit. Naturally the head of the department (who'd gotten sprayed in the face as well) had lost his temper.

  "Bite your tongue Lawrence, before I rip it out of your mouth myself." The much larger man between them growled in warning. "It was an accident, no need to go spittin' out such poison."

  "You can't keep protecting that little… that speckled half-breed!"

  "Now yous is really askin' for me to put my foot up your tight little ass!" Norman bodily shoved the belligerent ink coated man, the indignant anger in his voice pointing to the projectionist beginning to lose his patience. Not that Wally could say for sure, he was still very much hiding behind him. "Apologize to the boy before I deck yous in that big beak o' yours!"

  "I'd rather die." Sammy hissed between his teeth.

  "Why I oughta teach yous a good lesson on havin' some manners, you obnoxious little--"

  "N-Norman that's enough…"

Both fell silent as he spoke up, the janitor moving back from the pair and looking down at his feet in defeat.

He had messed up and Sammy had every right to be angry, since he had ruined his work and consequently screwed over the rest of the department.

It wasn't fair if he got off completely scot free, even if he didn't want to face Mr. Drew soul crushing reprimands.

  "I made a mess of things… I didn't pay attention and messed up the stinkin' pipe…" Sammy actually looked confused that he was just taking it for once, rather than getting out of dodge. "Now Mr. Drew's gonna be real mad and it shouldn't be the music department to pay for it…"

  "Don't mean Mr. Lawrence gets to go havin' a dyin' duck fit! Hollerin' up a storm like that, you'd think yous went and deflowered his sister."

  "Polk!" Sammy really did not like the sound of that. If he went any redder with rage Wally feared he might literally explode like a bomb. "How dare you?!"

  "Don't feel too good when others go sayin' shit do it? Even if Wally here is takin' the fall, yous still gonna apologize to the kid." Norman stated.

  "I will do no such thing."

  "Good Lord in heaven, yous really are like water an' oil! You better start cleanin' up your act before I start usin' yous to grease up the projector belts!"

  "Why am I the oil in this analogy?!"

  "Must be because you're an unpleasant asshole."

The three turned to stare at none other than Thomas Connor who had a displeased look on his face and a toolbox in hand. Wally looked away, already knowing what was coming.

  "Franks, get moving back into that office. You're fixing that pipe while I sort the ink pressure." Thomas passed him the toolbox without any second thought. "Mr. Lawrence, I'd suggest you go collect your things to keep them well away from the ink."

  "I don't take orders from you, Engineering." Sammy huffed "I was already planning to do so before you decided to show your face around here."

  "Then why haven't you?" The older man raised an eyebrow.

Well it turns out Sammy's face could get redder. That probably wasn't normal, but it did seem to amuse Norman quite a bit.

He snorted and shook his head.

  "I needs to go downstairs t'get a new reel for the projector. I better not hear no more hollerin' when I get back." He gave Sammy a pointed look before looking at Thomas "And yous better get sortin' that pressure issue. If any more pipes burst in this little ol'department we might get another flood, and we still don't got no pump switch installed yet now do we?"

  "At the end of the month that's getting sorted. For now, we do our jobs." Thomas huffed and moved to go check the utility shaft where most of the pressure gauges for the music department were located.

     Wally watched quietly as both older men went their separate ways, leaving him alone with Sammy.

  "Well,what are you standing there for? Go fix your fuck-up." The blond snapped at him as he went to pick up an empty box from the closet and began to stomp his way back to his messy office.

The Brooklynite gulped and took the toolbox he'd been given, hoping this wouldn't take long.

The thought of being alone in a room with Sammy when he was in a terrible mood wasn't particularly appealing.

Especially when he was pissed at him.

It was just one measly little pipe.

How hard a fix could it be?

Stepping inside, the janitor winced. The floor was absolutely coated in ink and the spill was beginning to spread.

Sammy was dragging his desk away, leaving marks on the wood that were then hidden away by the growing puddle. The bin he'd used to put under the flow was full to the brim and spilling out in rivets.

  "Franks! Close the damn door and put that curtain under so it doesn't end up going into the actual band room!" The music director called out, startling him slightly.

  "Oh, uh right. Contain the issue an'... Junk." He grabbed the curtain, something Sammy had put up himself to cover his office window because he couldn't be bothered to mess with the rickety shutters, and stuffed it under the crack of the door once he closed it.

There was a loud click but he elected to ignore it since he had his keys. He could just unlock it later.

  "You need any help dragging that?" He asked as he began to look through the toolbox for a wrench.

  "Just do your job."

  "Right…"

     They fell into silence, where Wally tried to figure out where exactly along the pipe did he actually have to sort, and where Sammy muttered to himself as he tried to salvage his papers.

The leak wasn't too bad all things considered. There was little to no pressure, which meant there might be a block somewhere else but that was why Thomas was checking in the utility shaft.

He just needed to fix this, tighten that, twist this doodad and turn that knick-knack… He winced when he heard papers crumple and get tossed into a wastebasket.

  "Damn it, not one fucking sheet… I swear I had some notes somewhere… where did I put those…" The composer was going about trying to find his stuff, looking through a filing cabinet that looked just as disorganized as Wally's dresser. "Was it in E? Or… L? Do I even use the separators?"

It was amazing really, how easily Sammy seemed to lose track of things.

He often yelled at the janitor for misplacing his keys, yet here he was murmuring and rushing about all scatterbrained.

It was a little ironic.

  "What are you staring at, Franks?!"

  "Hm?" He hadn't even noticed he'd been looking. "Oh uh, was just gonna say this is almost done."

  "Good. I want you out as fast as possible, so get that done and clean this muck so I don't have to see you for the rest of the day."

  "Yeah yeah, this whole pipe stuff ain't too bad when the ink aint--" a loud groan interrupted him abruptly, and even Sammy seemed to pause to look up.

Both stood there, slightly alarmed by the sound.

  "What was that?" Sammy asked.

  "I…" Wally frowned and listened closely. It sounded almost like, like… "Oh crap."

Another much louder groan and then suddenly the Brooklynite was on the floor, ears ringing and mind blank from taking a sudden hit.

The pipe had completely burst now, due to a sudden change in pressure, leaving the two with a rapid cascade of ink.

  "What did you do now?!" He heard once his hearing returned, but he didn't respond. Instead he sat up and stared at the pool of ink all around him. Where he sat it was steadily rising to his knees, and it was already covering Sammy's feet completely.

The office was filling up like a tub, and quickly.

  "Oh boy…" he got up onto shaky feet and made for the door, wincing when he realized it had indeed locked.

He went for his keys but froze when he found them gone. "Shit, shit shit shit shit!!!"

  "What now?!"

  "I think we're in a bit of a pickle!"

  "Why am I not surprised?" Sammy rolled his eyes, moving over to try the door. "Where are your keys?"

  ".... Uh…"

  "Are you serious?" The blond groaned and began to try pulling the stuffed curtains from under the door to get rid of the flooding problem. The color draining from his face when he realized they wouldn't budge. "No…"

Wally bit his lip as he watched Sammy tug harder and then try the door handle with a little more urgency.

  "No, no no no! I'm not drowning in my own office!" The music director let go of the handle and instead began to bash his shoulder against the door to no avail.

It wouldn't budge. "FUCK!"

     Thinking quickly (and trying not to stare at the ink slowly raising up to halfway up his legs and nearing knee height), Wally began looking for his keys.

  "I just had them!" He'd checked before entering the office. They must have fallen out when the pipe exploded and threw him down, so they had to be somewhere in the pooling mess. "Come on…"

He was practically on his knees searching while Sammy continued to assault the door.

There was no one to hear the noise, and if they didn't find a way out soon… Well… Wally's aunty Tess once told him drowning was a painful and far too long a death.

  "This isn't the time to roll around like a pig in mud!" The blond shrieked at him, to which he couldn't help look back with a glare.

  "I'm lookin' for my keys! They're somewhere in here!"

  "Then move aside!" Sammy joined him and began to frantically palm the floor, trying to find the illusive circular keyring "If we survive I'm getting you a better ring!"

  "If we survive you won't have to! Cuzz I'll be outta here!" Drowning was definitely not on the job description. This was good enough a reason to quit right?

  "I'll believe it when I see it happen!"

No matter how much they desperately searched however, no keys could be found in a pool that now reached well above their waist.

Realizing just how dire their situation was becoming, both men looked at each other with dawning horror.

It was a matter of minutes… their lives were going to end in minutes.

Wally felt at a loss for what to do, while Sammy… Well the blond was already under enough pressure as it was, so naturally he broke.

  "No… I can't die like this!" Fat tears began to run down his face as despair started setting in.

  "Hey now, I know this ain't ideal but--"

  "Ideal? Ideal?!" Sammy grabbed at his own hair and began to tug while he hiccuped hysterically. "I'll tell you what's not ideal! Drowning in this chemical mishap, with some brat from Brooklyn while my 16 year old sister is none the wiser at home, probably thinking 'Geeh I wonder where Sammy is, he usually calls if he's staying at work', only to then find out on the local paper the next morning that she's absolutely alone with no one to care for her! That! That isn't ideal!"

  ".... Oh you actually have a sister? I thought Norman was just provokin' you…"

  "I WILL STRANGLE YOU WELL BEFORE YOU DROWN YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

  "OI DON'T YOU GO CALLING MY MA A BITCH, SHE'S AN ABSOLUTELY SWELL LADY!" He yelled back, ignoring how both of them were now up to their chests (well he was starting to float since Sammy was taller than him) in ink. "HOW WOULD YA LIKE IT IF I CALLED YOUR MA A BITCH?!"

The blond head of the department screeching and lunging for him was all the warning Wally got before the two ended up tumbling in, heads fully submerged and bodies flailing as they attempted to restore their mothers' honors (if anything they probably looked like little kids fighting in a puddle while their parents looked away in embarrassment).

They only came back up to gasp for air and push themselves away from one another.

  "Ok that was not my best idea!" Sammy coughed and looked around. "I can barely see the doorframe or the edge of the window… We're going to die in here and it's all Drew's and that infernal machine's fault!"

  "... I." Wally paused "Wait, I ain't included in that?"

  "No?"

  "But the pipe, and what you were tellin' Norman and the fighting just now…"

  "I was pissed because you aggravated an issue I already had! You also stole my sister's birthday cake that I spent money on, are a braggart of the worst kind, and a troublemaker, but fuck I'm not gonna blame you for this shitty situation!" Sammy threw his hands up in disbelief, yelping once he lost balance. He righted himself and looked back at Wally. "And the fighting was because you called my dead mother a bitch."

  "Oh… My condolences… also that cake was yours? Man good taste! Nice stuff really… I uhm… I donno what to say… I just thought you hated me."

  "... Well if we're going to die I might as well be honest." Sammy sighed "I don't hate you Wally. I just find you aggravating. You're an impossible optimistic guy in a world that eats brats like you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. If someone isn't hard on you, how are you meant to learn how to survive out there?"

  "... That how you were taught?"

  "..."

  "Then no worries Sammy. I'm from Brooklyn! We're made of durable stuffs! Like our uh… like… roaches!"

  "Durable like roaches… how reassuring…" Sammy held a hand up to reach for the ceiling. They were going to lose air in seconds. "It's the same as saying glass is strong unless it meets with a hammer…"

Wally stared at him before something clicked. The toolbox!

  "Glass, hammer, the window!"

"Hm?"

  "Sammy you're a genius!" The janitor took a deep breath and dove down to the floor. He blindly groped around for the toolbox and then for the hammer inside it.

He resurfaced to take another big gulp of air before showing his companion the hammer and diving back down.

All it took was a knock on the side of the glass for the whole thing to come down. Thank God for Joey Drew's not so safe work ethic and construction jobs!

-

     Thomas Connor was having a rotten day. He'd gone down to figure out what the pressure issues were all about in the utility shaft connected to the music department and the sewers, and had then rushed to get Joey to bring him down and show him the root of the problem.

He'd become irate when he realized the man had turned on the machine during maintenance, and it took a newly returned Norman and a mildly concerned Jack to talk him out of kicking his employer's ass.

  "With how irregular the pressure has been, turning on the machine was grossly negligent on your part! The more fragile pipes could have burst and then we'd be faced with catastrophic failure all around the studio!" He practically roared at the impassive grinning bastard. "Have you any idea how unstable the floors currently under construction are?! The building could collapse!"

  "But it didn't."

  "But it COULD have!"

  "And yet it didn't." Joey's grin widened. "So I don't see what the big deal is, Mr. Connor."

  "Sir I really think you should consider what he's trying to say. For uh, for everyone's safety…" Jack tried, only to be shrugged off with a wave.

  "Mr. Fain I see no reason to worry. No catastrophic failure has occurred, and no one has gotten hurt." Joey insisted. "It's as they say. No harm no foul."

  "No harm no foul?! What kind of business owner doesn't consider their workers's safety?!"

  "Mr. Connor…" Joey rolled his eyes but stopped once he heard what sounded like a loud bang, before the band room was suddenly inundated by a massive wave of ink and random junk. Among said junk, lay a coughing and very disoriented Wally Franks (still holding a hammer) and Sammy Lawrence.

The foursome that had been arguing were now coated in almost as much ink as the pair, and looking stunned.

Once the coughing subsided, Wally raised the hammer in triumph.

  "We're alive!" He dropped the hammer and flopped his arm back down weakly.

  "Huzzah…" Sammy rubbed at his face tiredly before looking over at their audience. Once his eyes locked with Joey's, he seemed to regain all strength. "DREW."

  "Shit." Joey turned around swiftly and began limping away at a considerable speed with aid from his cane, while Sammy scrambled onto his feet and began running after him.

  "WE NEARLY DROWNED! YOU AREN'T GETTING AWAY SO EASILY! COME BACK HERE!"

  "Someone cancel my appointments!"

  "DREWWWW!!!!"

    Norman clicked his tongue and shook his head while Jack helped Wally onto his feet and asked if he was ok.

  "Oh, I'm good!" The Brooklynite smiled "Nearly drowned with Sammy, but peachy!"

  "You nearly drowned?!" Thomas stared in disbelief.

  "Yeah… but it's good. I broke a window but other than that everything should uh, be repairable I think? Might need a lot o' bleach to clean up… but you know." Wally shrugged.

  "Should I ask what abouts happened in that office when yous was both alone in there?" Norman questioned "Besides nearly drownin' in Joey's hubris?"

  "Uh… oh, you're asking if Sammy gave me any trouble aren't ya?" Wally shook his head "Not really. He was even nice to me for a little bit!"

  "Nice?" Norman and Thomas both exchanged looks "To you?"

  "Oh Geeh, I should get him checked, he might have swallowed ink and become delusional…" Jack whispered to himself in concern.

  "Ye, nice! Sammy Lawrence was nice to me in a situation where we thought we were gonna die, so it had to have been genuine!" The janitor grinned. "But I'll bet by Monday he'll be back to being a grouch. Probably for the best… saying Sammy is nice is like saying water and oil mix."

Thomas stared at him before snorting.

  "They do mix."

  "What…?"

  "Water and oil mix. It just takes the right conditions." He shrugged "Thought you went to college."

  "Oh come on you're yanking my leg!" There was no way those two mixed, just as there was no way Sammy could be openly nice to Wally.

Could there?

The world might never know.

#Eps Writes: #Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Wally Franks #Sammy Lawrence

[boldly-ho]

Another Life - Chapter 20

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows 

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: E

Word Count: 2172

Chapter summary: I hate chapter summaries. It’s chapter 20. If you’re here, you’ve made up your mind to follow the story no matter what the summary says, anyway.

A/N: I’m so, so sorry for the delay. I had a family emergency in Iowa after the derecho. (It’s all ok now, though, thankfully). Then, of course, when I got back to the land of electricity, I spilled water on my keyboard and had to order another. So here it is, two weeks late, but fully intact. Enjoy! As always, this is cross-posted to AO3.

Your glove filled with dishwater as you submerged it in the full sink, hunting for a fork you’d dropped. You grimaced to yourself as you pulled the full, wet glove off of your hand and dumped the soapy, rust-colored water back into the sink. You’d heard Deacon say it before, and he was right: This was bullshit. You made a mental note to propose to your flatmates that everyone wash their own dishes immediately after use, and replace it on the chore wheel with something, anything, else.

These bloody dishes shouldn’t have to be your responsibility. Wasn’t this a biohazard?

“How did it go tonight?”

Deacon’s sneaking into the kitchen used to startle you. Now, you were used to it, always half-expecting to find a vampire behind you when you turned around.

Reaching into the bloody water with your bare hands, you pulled the plug, letting it all drain away. You wiped your hands on a dishcloth you assumed must have been white at some point as you answered, “It was fine.”

You had gone out earlier this evening. It was only a grocery run, but it still felt fairly momentous. It had been the first time you’d been out after dark since the night you’d almost been killed. Eaten. As none of your flatmates had accompanied you, you wore your silver cross pendant outside of your shirt, keeping any potential vampires at a distance.

It had actually been Viago’s suggestion to wear it visibly unless you were with them. You weren’t entirely comfortable with displaying the necklace, but you weren’t entirely comfortable being eaten, either, so you did what you had to do. It had made you feel secure enough to venture out, though you could practically hear your heart pound with anxiety the entire trip. But now, safe at home, having done it once, you felt confident it wouldn’t be so scary next time you went out at night.

Baby steps.

“Did you wear your necklace out?”

You nodded in response. “Any fun plans tonight?” You didn’t overly care. What his plans were. You would be going to bed in an hour or so anyway. Mostly, you just wanted to change the subject. You knew Deacon meant well by asking after you. But it felt odd, his checking up on you. Deacon was hardly a comforting person. Your friendship with him wasn’t tender. You cared about him, of course, but your friendship was built on laughter, goofing off, and general immaturity. His caring tone was enough to drive you mad.

He shrugged. “I don’t know about fun. Vlad and I are supposed to go out and get some victims. We should go soon, though, since I’m meeting Jackie in a few hours.”

You still hadn’t seen Vladislav tonight. Glancing at the time, you remarked, “It’s getting really late. Is he still sleeping?””

Deacon shrugged again. “Maybe. He sleeps in sometimes. But if he doesn’t wake up soon, I’m going to leave without him.”

“Go wake him up, then.”

“No way. You’ve woken up Petyr, right?”

You nodded.

“Vlad’s worse than that.”

You thought back to the time you woke up Petyr and decided there was no way that was true. You shrugged off his hyperbolic explanation and offered, “I’ll go wake him up.”

Deacon snorted and rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that.”

As you went upstairs to Vladislav’s room, you smiled to yourself. That had felt better. Normal. That was how you and Deacon were supposed to interact with one another.

You knocked gently on the bedroom door. You were trying to wake him, not scare him half to death… again. “Vladislav?” you called softly. There was no response. You knocked again, calling slightly louder, “Vladislav?”

You pushed the door open, expecting to find him sleeping away in his black coffin. Instead, the room itself was unrecognizable. Granted, you’d only been in there once, on that night you were sneaking around, but you were fairly certain the room had been different. For example, you remember there being objects in there. A coffin springs to mind.

Now, there was nothing but red silk and velvet as far as the eye could see. And the eye could see quite far. You’d only been in here once, but you knew the room hadn’t been this big. The whole house was barely this big. And up in the far corner across from the door, you saw Vladislav laying on the ceiling, three of the most gorgeous women you’d ever seen– succubi – writhing on and pawing at him, among other things. Though the sight was jarring enough, it was nothing compared to the sound. A mixture of masculine and feminine moaning, sighing, and heaving breathing assaulted your ears.

Your eyes widened as you registered what exactly they were seeing. “Oh my g-“ You stopped yourself from saying the g-word before you caused your flatmate- and possibly the succubi?- to have a negative reaction. “Sorry!”

You pulled the door shut quickly again, feeling your face reddening. How did this keep happening? At least the last time it happened, you’d walked in before anything had started. And it was only the one succubus. Not so, this time.

The door swung open again, revealing Vladislav is his trademark, post-fuck red robe. You kept your eyes glued to his face, and to his immensely tousled hair, in order not to see anything more that you shouldn’t. Though, it was unnecessary, as you could see in your peripheral vision that the succubi were gone and the room was back to normal.

“Sorry!” you said again, though it came out more like a squeak, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“What?” he asked, ignoring your apology. He seemed as nonplussed as always, not at all acting as if he’d just been interrupted mid-orgy.

“How did you…” you trailed off, now fully looking past him into his apparently size-changing bedroom.

“How did I what?”

You met his serious gaze and dropped your question entirely. “Deacon wanted to make sure you were awake. For finding victims together.”

“Right. I forgot. Tell him to give me twenty minutes.” With that, he returned to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone again in the hall. You heard the moaning resume, now loud enough to be heard through the door.

You returned to the kitchen, picking up haste until you were practically speed walking through it. Your face was heated and you were flustered, naturally. That’s not a great way to great Deacon, though. You entered through one door, saying quickly to your flatmate as you passed, “He’s busy. Twenty minutes,” and exited out the other door, never looking up from the floor as you did so.

You sprinted back up the stairs to your own room, passing a concerned looking Viago on the way, as Deacon’s uproarious laughter echoed in your ears.

At least someone found it funny.

~

“Ooh, where are you going all dressed up like that? Got a hot date?” Dawn teased.

You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a hot date. Literally.

“Not unless you’re talking about yourself. We were supposed to hang out tonight, remember? Hit up some bars? It was your idea.”

She threw you a bewildered look. “Yeah, but I didn’t think we should anymore. Especially not you.”

You returned the look. “Am I missing something? Again?” You’d meant the last word as a joke, but it ended up feeling like a knife twisting in your gut. Still too soon to joke, you surmised.

“Girls are going missing in Wellington; girls who look like you. Mostly from clubs and bars. They think it’s a serial killer. How have you not heard about this?”

“What!”

Dawn tapped away at her phone before turning it towards you, pulled up to a news article about the topic at hand. You snatched the phone from her grip.

“When did this happen?”

“News broke two days ago. I can’t believe you haven’t heard. But people have been disappearing for two weeks now.”

“I wonder why two weeks…” you said quietly, more thanking aloud than speaking to Dawn. You actually turned to her and added, louder, “Glad we haven’t been out in the past two weeks.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

You scrolled through the article. Five women missing in two weeks. Three last seen in clubs, one last seen walking in Wellington central, and one that was reported missing after not showing up for work. Horrifyingly, each of them looked like you. Same skin color, same hair color, same eye color, similar height, similar build...

And you were about to go out clubbing for the night. Goosebumps formed on your arms and legs. This surely constituted a good reason to keep up with current events if ever there was one.

You wondered, momentarily, if this had anything to do with you, or, at the very least, the you from your forgotten year. Probably not. How could it? These disappearances had only been happening for two weeks. You’d begun to remember things much longer ago than that. It was just a horrible coincidence.

You’d just have to be careful going out from now on.

Still, you thought back to the missing person poster that had nearly bowled you over when you’d seen it. She hadn’t looked like you, but it did seem odd that you may already have a connection to a missing person…

~

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Viago hissed under his breath, though his voice still floated up from the lounge.

You stood at the the top of the stairs, around the corner in the hall, and just out of sight. You had been on your way downstairs, but Viago’s hushed voice had startled you. Thinking he must have been talking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him before shutting it once more when someone else downstairs replied.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vladislav was unaffected, monotone, and seemingly uninterested. Still, you got the impression that he knew exactly what Viago was talking about.

“Are you trying to be a jerk? With our heightened hearing, I could hear trying to wake you from all the way downstairs. You just let her walk in on you like that, and don’t say otherwise. Were you just being an exhibitionist or were you actively trying to upset her? What the hell is the matter with you?”

You. They were talking about you. You weren’t sure whether that weakened your right to eavesdrop or strengthened it. You stayed put.

Vladislav dropped any pretense of ignorance and answered coolly, “Humans become infatuated with vampires all the time.”

You felt your heart sink. It wasn’t disappointment. It was embarrassment. You really didn’t think you’d categorize sometimes-attraction to your flatmate as infatuation, but you felt slighted and humiliated that it was so openly discussed and disregarded when you weren’t present.

Viago scoffed. “Really?”

“What would you call Katherine?”

“Hey, now! Don’t be a dick.”

You weren’t sure if Deacon had been present the entire time or if he had just walked in. Either way, his defense of Viago told you that bringing up this Katherine person, whoever she was, was hitting below the belt.

“So you are just trying to be a jerk,” Viago sighed. “I don’t know why. Even if humans do fall for vampires all the time, it’s not as though vampires often fall for humans.”

Silence from the lounge.

Eventually, Deacon snorted, breaking the silence. “I think you guys just need to fuck.”

Viago sighed.

Vladislav remained silent.

“I don’t know whether that little stunt tonight was meant to piss her off or turn her on, but either way it was incredibly stupid, even for you.”

“Hey!” Vladislav protested.

“You’re different with her. You were so kind to her after you rescued her from that other vampire. I never saw you treat the Beast that way, not once.”

The Beast?

Vladislav scoffed. “The Beast would have never welcomed such treatment from me anyway.”

“Maybe. But I never saw you offer it.”

“Y/N is my friend. She was traumatized. You’re reading too much into things, looking for subtext where there isn’t any. This is real life, Viago, not one of those big, ugly books you always have your nose buried in. So what if she walked in on me having sex? You’ve all walked in on me having sex before! I have sex a lot! You’re making something out of nothing.”

“Either way,” Viago said, “We all have to live together here, Y/N included; so you can’t go around purposely antagonizing people, no matter what the reasons are.”

“The reasons are that he’s horny! I say you go upstairs, walk into her bedroom, and tell her you’re there to fuck. Her legs will open before your sentence is finished.”

You heard a soft, hollow thump, as though someone had hit Deacon upside the head. You recognized the noise from all the times you had hit Deacon upside the head. You smiled softly.

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #vladislav #vladislav x reader #another life #al fic

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Chapter 14: The letter.

It was a very normal dinner when they had an epiphany about Death’s request, well... actually Padfoot had it but it still counted.

“It could be the Hallows, I mean we have one of them-“ His godfather started to say and his dad sighed with exasperation.

“Not this again.”

“What?” Draco asked curious took a sip from his glass.

“It’s nothing, Sirius always had this stupid idea that the invisibility cloak is the invisibility cloak-“

“The one from the Tale of the Three Brothers?” Ron asked excitedly, his face matching Malfoy’s. And, once again, Hermione and Harry didn’t have the slightest clue about what the rest of them were talking about. Being muggle-raised sucked.

“Where have I read that before...?” Hermione asked, a frown on her face.

“Dumbledore left you a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It’s from that book.” Draco answered calmly.

Oh, great, so Harry was the only one who didn’t have a clue about what was going on.

“It totally makes sense! Harry, your cloak, the charm never fades... even the best ones get old and don’t work as well as they did when they were bought. Since when has the cloak been in your family, Mr. Potter?” His dad squinted his eyes, trying to calculate.

“That I know of... I guess that my great- grandfather had it and passed it on.”

Draco widened his eyes, an amused smile appearing on his face. Harry loved to see him like this, so in his element. So focused to achieve his goals and so happy when he discovered something useful. Sometimes he had to think about something else in the meetings, because if he paid attention to Malfoy... He started to get this itchy feeling on his lips, wanting to snog the hell out of the boy right in front of everyone.

“Okay, so let’s assume we have the cloak... What else do we have? She said it was two things.” Draco said as he stood up and leaned against the table. He never could be still when he was figuring out something, he always was moving, walking, jumping in his place, his feet’s were always alert, ready to do whatever it was needed at the time. It was one of the things that Harry liked best about the boy.

“If the hallows exist, I want the Elder wand. Imagine having that, we would win for sure.” Ron said, a wishful tiñe in his voice.

“I’m not on board with being murdered for power, thanks. Been there, done that.” Replies his dad, making Sirius’ and Draco’s laughter echoed in the kitchen.

“I think I would want the stone... Jamie is here with me, but Regulus isn’t... It would be nice to tell him that I destroyed the horcrux he stole.”

Okay, Harry was really not understanding anything. He turned to look at Hermione and her face of confusion told him that she didn’t had a clue either. Maybe the name of the tale was familiar but if Hermione Jean Granger wasn’t participating in a conversation, then she most definitely didn’t understand what they were talking about.

Then, Draco widened his eyes and covered his mouth with his hand in astonishment.

“What...?” Harry dared to ask.

“The stone... We don’t have the wand, no one tried to look for it so we don’t have it, but the stone.”

“I think we would know if we had the resurrection stone, little cousin.”

“Would we?” The blond boy had the smug smile that he loved so much and Harry wanted to slam his own face against the nearest surface just to try to get his brain to work properly again. “What did Dumbledore left you three?”

They all answered, a little tired of going over again the same thing that had been buggering them since August: trying to understand what the fuck did Professor Dumbledore wanted with his will. They only figured out the sword so far.

“Why would he leave you his personal copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard if it didn’t mean anything. Why the snitch?”

“I don’t know, Malfoy. That’s kind of the point. Scrimgeour said that the snitch would open when I’d hold it because it remembers their first touch, but I grabbed it and nothing happened...”

And Draco literally started to laugh saying that they have been so stupid all this fucking time. At this point, Everyone was watching him like he lost his mind (which was possible, Malfoy had been through enough, he wouldn’t blame him for losing it).

“Potter, work with me a little. Think about your first match.”

Harry frowned. He remembered loving every second of it... Except when Quirrel started to curse his broom. He could recall being so obstinate, making every single thing to catch the snitch, even as a first year, even if it was his first match. He remembered reaching out, so close to touching it with his fingers when... Holy shit. He widened his eyes and looked at Malfoy who was grinning like a mad man.

“I didn’t catch the snitch with my hand...” I said, realizing what he meant this whole time.

“You nearly swallowed the thing. I wanted to punch you in the face for that one.” He replied happily and Harry couldn’t help to look at him fondly.

Did Draco think back then that he was cute too? After their fight he had confessed that he found Harry the most attractive bloke in school and, when he heard it, his heart almost came out of his chest.

Take that Nott, he notices me and he likes me the most... At least physically.

What was a little disappointing, was the fact that what Draco thought about how he looked like had nothing to do with his feelings. Harry was glad that the boy found him attractive but, at the end of the day, he wanted for the blond boy to choose him first in every sense... which was not happening.

On Valentine’s Day, he tried to ask Malfoy out on a date. Not that they could go anywhere but his father said that him and Padfoot were having a romantic dinner, so the four of them needed to find another thing to do. Call him naive if you want, but Harry supposed that Ron would want to spend it with Mione alone, that left him and Draco to have a nice time for themselves in his room... And he started to plan it all: which album of Queen they were going to dance to, what would they eat in his room, at what point he was going to kiss him, and just imagining the smell of the daffodils filling his room was enough to put a goofy smile on his face. When Harry suggested to cook some pizza and take it upstairs, he was not pleasantly surprised to find out that Draco had actually planned an evening that included the four of them. At least they got to spend the night together, that was something, right?

“Potter.” Draco said, snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. He blinked repeatedly, as he came back from his thoughts. “Go fetch that Snitch.” He commanded and the green-eyed boy complied.

It turned out that a message appeared if Harry put the snitch in his mouth ‘I open at the close’ Nobody seemed to understand it, Ron only said that he was getting quite tired with Dumbledore’s Riddles. He couldn’t blame him, really.

“So you think that the stone is there, Kid?”

“Yes. Although we can’t do anything until it opens...But at least we know what’s going on... kind of.”

And after they started to assume that the Hallows were real, that one vision that he had about Voldemort torturing Gregorovitch for a wand that he could not find... It was finally starting to make sense. At least, now, Draco and Mione couldn’t be mad at him for letting him into his mind, because they had advantage, they knew what to expect when they would come across him again... Maybe he would carry the Elder Wand with him.

—————————

He was kissing Draco lazily that morning, he loved to do that. He loved to feel like the mornings were an extension from his dreams, this reality where he got to wake up with the blond boy’s arms around him. For a few minutes, he could pretend that this was permanent, that this was the way that he was going to wake up for the rest of his life.

The thing was that Harry had started to have hope, for a multitude of reasons. One being the smile that Draco offered him on these very same mornings, so truthful and warm. Another one being that confession about him being the highest rated boy in the list (yes, he was pretty proud of that). And, on top of everything, they were acting a lot like a couple lately... they would hug more, or kiss more, or hold hands a lot... Ron always had this annoyed expression on his face whenever he saw them together. Harry was aware that he was doing something wrong with Malfoy, he could live without the redhead wearing a scowl constantly on his face.

Draco separated their lips a little bit, just enough so he could talk.

“We should get up, training starts in like half-hour and we haven’t eaten yet.” Harry groaned and kissed him again, biting his bottom lip playfully.

“Or... We could stay here and skip breakfast.” Because, really, he could live without it and this was a much more entertaining thing.

“You can’t skip meals, Potter. We talked about this.”

This was another reason why he was getting hope, Draco was dying he had his own problems, and still, he found time to take care of Harry... To talk about the importance of a good nutrition and to come and spend the night with him whenever he realized that it was almost midnight and Harry wasn’t even attempting to get into his bed. Sleeping was overrated if you asked him, he spent six years of his life sleeping four hours each night and he was doing pretty well. Malfoy didn’t agree with him, though.

“You are such a killjoy.”

“Yes, now get up.”

The day passed by pretty smoothly. There wasn’t anything weird about it, no drama, no tantrums, no Ron and Hermione arguing about stupid stuff, and the more important thing ever: no coughs. None. Not even a small one. Harry seemed to be on Felix felicis again given the fact that he was smiling and skipping around the house from the happiness alone.

That was why it felt like such a punch to the gut to find the parchment on Malfoy’s desk.

They rarely spent time in Draco’s and Ron’s room. Probably because it was difficult to be alone in a room that was shared. The blond boy was in the shower, Ron was downstairs with Mione (he couldn’t go and interrupt them) and he was bored. He actually went into Draco’s room because he couldn’t find one of the vinyls, and since the blond boy tended to hoard as much of them as he could... He guessed that he could go and have a look around.

Now, Harry was regretting to ever had entered the room. His eyes were fixed on the parchment, Malfoy’s beautiful letter displayed on it. He didn’t even read the letter, he couldn’t. It was wrong wasn’t it? But...

Dear Theo:

There was this little voice in his head telling him to read it. That he could keep the secret. He was already biting his tongue to not tell Draco how he felt, and that was hard enough, he could keep this to himself too, couldn’t he?

‘No, Harry. This is awful. It’s private, you can’t. Just turn around and go.’

The boy was starting to hate the high morals that Gryffindor had instilled in him through the years... But to be fair, he never seemed to apply those morals whenever Malfoy was involved. With trembling hands he took the letter and began to read it.

Dear Theo:

I want to tell you so much that I don’t know where to begin. Let’s star with the most important thing, shall we?

The Deathly Hollows are real. Remember when we wanted to become the Masters of Death back when we were like five? I can’t believe that it is something actually possible, my prat of a father always made fun of our ‘childish dreams’ but who laughs now, huh? I have a connection to the other side, I can do the old rituals and I have a quest that has been a petition from Death herself.

I can’t help but to wish that you could be here.

His heart started to hurt. It felt like someone was strangling it. He was so naive wasn’t he?

Harry took a deep breath and resumed his reading, forcing himself to read that same line again.

I can’t help but to wish that you could be here. I know that you would love this, the mystery, the riddles... Even in this very obscure context is unbelievingly fun to try to solve this.

I miss you dearly. We haven’t got to spend any time together this year and I fear that we are not going to... Things are too messed up right now and I don’t have much time left. Potter says that he is going to finish this before June but, honestly, I don’t think that it’s going to happen.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The tears started to escape from his eyes, he moved away the letter, trying to avoid staining it with his tears.

Please tell me that you are being safe...That you are being as cunning and ambitious as ever (well, tell me in a metaphoric sense of the term because this letter in not going anywhere and you can’t respond to it). When the time comes, I hope that you fight with our side. I really really want you to. I don’t know if that still means something to you but I wanted to tell you.

I had a dream last night, about us.

Harry’s heart stopped working for what it seemed to be ages. Last night? Like... The night previous to this beautiful morning where Draco kissed him for almost an hour? Oh... No coughs... at all. Fuck. How fucking naive he was, thinking that maybe he was the cause of Draco being healthy... It was because of Nott, of course. He let out a sob before continuing reading.

We were together at the beach (it looked like the one from Bill’s and Fleur’s cottage because I don’t know any other beach, clearly), you looked at me and smiled, and when I asked you if you were okay, you answered: ‘Yes... I haven’t been for a while...but I guess that I’m okay now.’ Were you really there? I can’t help but wonder if we really met in that dream... It felt so real, I don’t know how to explain it.

Harry couldn’t stop crying. Wishing that they haven’t met there at all. Even if it was a cruel thing to wish... He didn’t want to think that Draco and Nott met in their dreams because they missed each other so much. Not when the blond boy hugged him in his sleep and not when he woke him up with a kiss.

If it really was you, I’m glad that we got to see each other. At least like this.

Be safe... and try to laugh. It truly was a vision to see you showing off that beautiful smile of yours. You deserve to be happy.

Draco

He heard the water in the bathroom stop running. Harry left the letter where it was and abandoned the bedroom as fast as he could. He couldn’t go back to his room, Malfoy was probably going to look for him after he got changed. And he was crying his heart out. So bloody pathetic.

He changed his direction and started to walk down the hallway to knock on the door of the main bedroom. He heard a ‘come in’ so he opened the door and close it behind him once he was inside. He raised his eyes. Padfoot had a book in his hand and his father was resting his head on the man’s lap, both of them looked at him and froze.

“Harry...?” His dad asked with fear in his eyes.

“Can-“ Another sob escaped his mouth. “Can I stay here? I- I just-“

And he was being pulled into a hug. The nicotine smell was invading his nostrils.

“Muffliato. Please.” He begged, because the idea of Malfoy finding him crying like a little boy in his parent’s arms was embarrassing enough, he didn’t need for it to actually happen. His father complied and gestured for him to sit on the bed with them.

He wanted to scream from the pain. It was so fucking unfair. The tears kept coursing down his cheeks, he had to take off his glasses because it was impossible to see with them anymore, all tarnished from his crying.

“What happened?” Padfoot asked calmly, Harry only shook his head. He didn’t want to tell them. “It’s Draco, isn’t it?” And that only made Harry cry even harder which, he supposed that it confirmed Sirius’ suggestion.

His father tried to ask what was it that Draco had done but his godfather cut him shortly, saying that Harry would talk if he wanted and when he wanted.

After a while, he started to get this painful feeling in his chest. The anguish that got settle inside of him was starting to feel like an overwhelming wave that was crushing every single bone in his body. He needed to speak, he needed to talk to someone.

“He writes to him.” He whispered, his voice weak and thin. “I know I shouldn’t have read it, but I did. He thinks that they met in dreams-“ He said chocking as he let out a sobbing sound. “ Draco spent the night with me and he met in dreams with him. Isn’t that so fucking romantic?”

“Oh, Harry... Hou don’t know what that means for them-“

“He says that he misses him dearly. That he doesn’t believe that I’m going to finish this before June, even though I’m fucking trying” He cleaned his eyes with the back on his hand. “I know it’s really shitty of me but sometimes I wish that he would choose me. And I know that it’s wrong because it’s going to kill him. I fucking know it, but I want it. I want him to write letters to me, I want him to be with me, I want for him to sleep beside me and not think about someone else. I want him for myself and I can’t have that so I take whatever it is that he can give me.”

“I know, Prongslet. I totally get it.” Sirius said as he played his his hair, soothing him. His dad was rubbing his back... It felt so good to have them near. He couldn’t imagine what it would be of him going through all of this without them...

“You know...” His father started to say. “It’s possible to be in love with two people at once.” Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Oh, yeah? Was that what happened to you?” He spat out his response. He knew that it wasn’t fair, much less to his dad and with Padfoot right beside him... But he was just so fucking angry and sad.

“Yes...” His father answered with honesty, Harry could feel the hand of Sirius tense for a second before resuming to run his fingers through his hair. “After school, I kept dating Lily and eventually fell in love. When she got pregnant I asked her to marry me, and then you arrived... There wasn’t a single day where I didn’t love Sirius, though.”

“That’s just sad.” He replied stubbornly.

“Is it? It gave me you... with your beautiful green eyes and your mother’s sass.” He heard Sirius chuckling so he relaxed. Maybe they really talked about this... Maybe it was okay now. “What I mean is that love is a million different things, you always love people differently, even when you are in love. Maybe it’s not going to happen tomorrow but... what if you turn out to be the one who spends the rest of his life with him? Would it really matter if he had Hanahaki for someone else?” Harry groaned.

“You don’t get it. You just don’t. I want for him to love me like he loves him. I know it’s fucking cruel, alright? But I want for him to love me so desperately that he would get the same squeezing feeling around his heart that I have everytime that I imagine them together. At this point, I’m bloody surprised that I’m not the one with the Hanahaki.”

“Okay... Prongslet?” Harry looked up. “How about you tell him how you feel?” He was about to respond but Padfoot cut him short. “I know what you are going to say: he doesn’t love me back and yada yada yada, BUT there is this very” And the man child coughs trying to hide the word ‘huge’.

“Sirius” His dad said in a reprimanding tone.

“What? I was just coughing. Anyway there is this possibility where you are.. you know... wrong.”

“About what? Maybe he has some feelings for me, which I doubt: I was barely mentioned in the letter-“

“Maybe he has THE feelings for you, you bullheaded oblivious very-son-of-your-father Potter.”

“SIRIUS.”

“What, James? They are worse than us! That’s saying something”

Harry started to get up, cleaning the rest of the tears with his sleeve and putting his glasses on.

“Hey, where are you going?” His father asked as soon as he started to walk to the door.

“Away from you. I don’t need you to give me hope when I know that I’m going to end up heartbroken.”

And he was closing the door behind him when he heard Padfoot yell.

“You know who said the very same thing at Grimmauld??” But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by him slamming the door.

———————-

Later that night, Harry found himself alone in his room and looking at the ceiling. His head was filled with images of Malfoy and Nott together at the beach, smiling to each other...

‘Potter says that he is going to finish this before June but, honestly, I don’t think that it’s going to happen.’

The thing was that he really wished to have a shot at being with Draco. That could only happen if they finished this on time and after they destroyed the locket, they were pretty stuck. The only clue that they had was Bellatrix...

They needed her wand to get to inside of the vault. What could they do? Steal it? They needed to be near her for that... Malfoy Manor was the place were the Death Eaters meeting were being held, he knew that because Draco told him, maybe if they infiltrated that Manor, they could get the wand... Or even her hair, with how much polyjuice Malfoy and Mione had brew in the last months they could do whatever they wanted.

But if they went inside of the Manor, Draco wasn’t coming with them. Not in a million years. Harry feared how his family would react if they saw him. Sirius and dad weren’t an option either, much to his dismay, someone needed to stay here with the blond boy and take care of him... And even if everything went wrong and he wouldn’t get to come back from this one, they would take care of him and Draco could be with Nott without Harry being in the middle of it all. He could actually let them be happy...

He needed to talk to Hermione and Ron about this. He just hoped that they would agree with him.

Sometimes being the good and selfless Chosen One sucked.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

[lululawrence]

lululawrence’s Fics Posted in 2019

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

2019 was a bit crazy, but I’m so proud of the fics that I’ve been able to write and publish this year! There were quite a few of them, so here they are in order of when they were published. I hope you enjoy!

Hey Look, Ma (9k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said.

Louis made sure he’d only dropped his hat, reached down to pick it up, and was dusting it off when he finally looked up.

“It’s alright...mate…” Louis had seen this man before. He was gorgeous. He lived somewhere in the area, because Louis would often pass him on the street heading home from the tube or the nearest bus stop.

And now, here he was. Standing in all his fluffy, curly haired glory in front of Louis, apologising for nearly bowling him over.

“I really am sorry, though. Let me get you a coffee to make up for it?”

Or the one where Louis is a hybrid who agrees to go on a blind date with his neighbour's colleague's son the same night he literally runs into his dream man. Surely this isn't going to end well... or is it?

Charisma (5k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was smiling, and maybe blushing a little as well, as he accepted the phone back. “Thank you,” he glanced down at his phone and then said, “Louis.”

Smiling happily at the way Harry had said his name, Louis watched him leave the room. The further away he got, the more confused Louis was. Yes, Harry was gorgeous, but how the hell had he forgotten that Harry was also the man who had caused him to almost have a major accident earlier because of his haphazard driving? How had he allowed Harry to distract him with his charm to the extent that instead of giving the man a lecture, Louis accepted the offer of a date?

Well. Whatever the reason was, Louis wouldn’t forget when Harry called. Louis would give him a piece of his mind then and see if Harry still wanted to go out with him at that point. Because yeah, Louis was not mad enough about his overreaction to Harry, both on the road and at the event tonight, to turn that opportunity for a date down. He wasn’t stupid.

Or the one where Harry feeds on awesomeness (possibly literally). Louis is awesome and also angry. They’re probably going to fall in love.

Drabbles for Harry's Birthday Drive 2019 (25k) - Various Pairings

Each chapter is a different drabble dedicated to a person who donated to Harry's birthday drive! The prompt requested as well as the pairing are in the author’s note for each chapter as well. There are multiple pairings due to various pairings being requested by the donors, so please pay attention to that information in each chapter! Pairings include Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam,, Grimmy/Louis, Greg/Louis,  Zayn/Louis, and Niall/Shawn.

It’s the Climb (25k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis stretched out his back and turned around, startled to see the most beautiful man he’d ever encountered in his life riding towards him on a horse.

He had to still be asleep. This was one of those super weird dreams people had where the knight in shining armor (or in this case, red sleeveless flannel) literally rode up to them calling their name.

The Hannah Montana AU where Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer. In her attempt for Louis to get back to his roots, he just so happens to reconnect with Harry, and things never go quite as Louis expects them to.

It Was Only a Kiss (16k) - Various Pairings

I participated in a kiss prompt drabble challenge on Tumblr, and ended up writing thirty-three drabbles! Because of the amount all for one challenge, I decided to post them on AO3 to save them. Each prompt exists on its own without relation to others, so pick and choose as you like.

If You Want To Be Loved (0.5k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Greg can't sleep. For once, he doesn't really mind.

(Something’s Been) Hiding In My Heart (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“My eyes must be deceiving me,” Harry said in his slow drawl. His voice was deeper than Louis remembered. Maybe some things had changed after all.

“They aren’t deceiving you. I’m here because I need you to finally sign these papers,” Louis said before he dropped the stack of paper on the hood of the car and held out a pen to Harry. “Just do it, Harry. Get it over with and then I’ll be out of your life forever, alright?”

Face blank of all emotion outside of a sneer Harry said, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“God,” Louis groaned. Harry just couldn’t let this be easy. His pride wouldn’t allow it. “You know, I never really understood that phrase, but no. I am not ‘shitting’ you. Just sign the damn papers.”

“Ya know, I don’t think I will,” Harry said before turning back to the front door.

When the screen door slammed behind him, Louis realized Harry didn’t have anything else to say.

Or a Sweet Home Alabama AU where Louis comes home to finally get his divorce from Harry finalized so he can move on with his life. Alderford holds its own set of challenges when he returns, but by facing his past maybe he can find the healing he so desperately needs.

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) (36k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.

There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

You Turned Up (Like a Friend of Mine) (10k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis padded downstairs, feeling incredibly thirsty. He filled up a glass of water and was about to take a drink when a loud knock sounded at the door accompanied by some yelling and ringing of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” Louis muttered, setting his glass on the counter and rushing towards the door.

As he got closer to the door, though, his mind stopped whirling because the voice was one that was etched forever in his mind, but one that he never thought he would ever hear again.

“Why’s the door locked? Did you seriously go without me? And who’s car is in the driveway? Lou, I knew you’d be late to get me. We’re going to miss-”

Louis whipped the door open, sure that he was just imagining things. There was no way…

Except there was. Standing on the front step was the curly haired, boy-faced Harry Louis had last seen ten years ago today.

Or the one where Harry disappears on graduation day only to show up on Louis' door looking exactly the same ten years later. Through a series of strange events, maybe they can finally figure out that they're destined to be together, no matter what.

Stealing Flowers (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”

He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Standing in the mess Greg’s shift had left behind, Louis decided he would start small. He’d organise the paint colour cards that displayed the names and then get started on the sample tins. It wasn’t until he started opening the boxes of colour cards that Louis started to wonder whether Nick had been the one to name the paint after all.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? was along the top left corner of a mustard yellow card. Nick was as big a fan of puns and music as anyone, so while it was unorthodox, Louis didn’t think too much of it. Part of the appeal of Annie’s Hardware was that they didn’t take things too seriously while always maintaining professionalism.

The names that followed did leave Louis to wonder if Annie knew exactly what the chosen paint names were, though. The Colour Of My Tears When ‘FRIENDS’ Ended for a soft white, Barneys Blood for a pale purple, and Blond. James Blond. for a sand tone had Louis convinced that it was a different co-worker who had renamed the colours.

Or the one where Louis has pined after Greg for what seems like ages, but when Greg renames the company's paint colors, something might finally be ready to give.

Like a Lighthouse On The Coast (I Need You) (19k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis placed his order with the server and was about to type up some possible lyrics when he heard the music being piped in go silent and a throat was cleared into a mic.

Oh God no. If Louis had known there was going to be live music, he would have chosen somewhere else. Why did they have to ruin what was truly the perfect ambiance for Louis with some sub-par wannabe singer-songwriter?

“Hello, I’m going to sing some songs for you tonight. I hope you like them.”

The voice was deep and smooth, slower than Louis had expected. It made him want to look up at the singer rather than cower into the corner of his booth.

So he did. The man didn’t look nervous at all, but he didn’t look like the cocky asshole Louis had been expecting either. Louis continued to brace himself as he took in the simple Ramones shirt and jeans the man was wearing, when something Louis hadn’t been expecting happened.

The man began to play his guitar, and he was good.

And then, the man began to sing.

Or the one where Louis has all the pressure of his sophomore album and none of the inspiration, but maybe all he needs is someone like Harry Styles to turn all that around.

Oh Honey, Honey (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis hated honey. He didn’t like the flavour, he didn’t understand why some liked it in their tea, he hated when it was put on sandwiches or cake or anything really. But, standing stock still in front of a rather large display of honey in that 24-hour Tesco, Louis found himself grabbing the largest jar of “100% pure London-local honey” and adding it to his trolley, simply because he knew it would make Harry smile.

Louis always wanted to make Harry smile.

Or the one where Louis pines after Harry, Harry is passionate about helping save the bees, and a late night shopping trip gone wrong doesn't end quite as horribly as Louis imagines.

You Don’t Care About Me (One More Night) (60k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

“Nick. You’re into guys. What should I do?”

Nick snorted. “You think just ‘cause I’m gay, I know what you should do?”

Louis blinked at him and Nick admired his eyelashes against his will. “Well. Kind of, yeah.”

“That is not how this works,” Nick said. “Besides, it’s not like you can just go and suck someone’s dick to be sure you like it the way I did. You’re too famous to try it my way.”

Louis’ expression changed to one of awe. “That’s how you figured it out? You sucked some random’s dick?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah. Basically. I mean, I knew for pretty damn sure before that, mind you, but that did solidify the matter for me.”

“I need to suck a dick,” Louis said, turning to look at the wall of Nick’s room.

“You could suck mine, if it would help,” Nick offered before he could stop himself.

Or the one where Louis pines for Harry and Nick helps ease his way into figuring himself out through a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Things quickly turn complicated.

A Taste of Honey (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door expecting someone with Deliveroo. Instead his gaze lifted so he could look at a very frazzled, incredibly fluffy haired Greg James who was inexplicably holding out a very large jar of honey.

“Hello, Gregory,” Louis said slowly.

Shifting around, Greg stepped forward and held the honey out towards Louis again. “This is for you.”

“Erm, alright,” Louis said before carefully taking the heavy jar from him. “Thank you?”

Greg flashed a wide grin, nodded, and then without another word walked back out the front door of the building.

Or the one where Louis has been pining after Greg ever since he started his job. Greg randomly showing up at his flat with a jar of honey might be just the push Louis needs to finally talk to the man.

Just Like Honey (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door and he looked so soft and beautiful. He was in a ratty pair of grey joggers and that was it. Harry had never seen him look so good.

When Harry finally raised his eyes from Louis’ chest, he realised Louis had likely said something.

“Uh,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Smirking a little, Louis crossed his arms and popped his hip. “I said, ‘Hello, Harry. What brings you here so late on a Saturday?’”

Then his brain kicked in.

“Right, fuck. Hi, Louis. I just wanted to give you this.”

Louis’ brows creased as Harry held the honey out to him. Taking the jar from Harry, he said, “Honey?”

Nodding, Harry said, “Yep. Hope you have a great night!”

Fisting his hands at his sides in frustration, Harry left the building as quickly as he could.

Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me (3k) - Greg James/Harry Styles

Harry knocked once more before coming to the conclusion that knocking for longer than that was rude.

He’d just decided to leave when the door opened.

“Fuck, you were asleep, weren’t you?”

“Well, it’s past 8, so yeah, basically,” Greg said with a yawn.

God, he’d been asleep for over an hour. Harry was the worst.

“I’m so sorry. Here. Take this and get back to sleep. I’m so incredibly sorry for waking you up,” Harry babbled, shoving the jar of honey into Greg’s hands.

Greg looked at the jar then back up at Harry, still not saying anything. Probably because his brain was still asleep just like his body would’ve been if Harry hadn’t been a fucking idiot.

“Sorry again!” Harry said before giving a lame wave and rushing off to the nearest tube station.

Or the one where Harry pines after fellow Radio 1 DJ Greg James but doesn't know how to start a conversation with him...until he gets the needed inspiration.

Our Love is Timeless (6k) - Niall Horan/Shawn Mendes

He rinsed out his shampoo and began to scrub at his body. Turning around to rinse his back and wash his front, Shawn was not prepared to be met with a cursing blond Irishman.

Letting out a rather loud, high pitched scream and covering himself as best he could, Shawn backed up into the wall behind him, which also turned off the shower.

“Thanks, mate. Was hoping not to get my clothes entirely soaked,” the man said as he began stepping out of the shower stall. “Say, what year is it?”

“I...what?” Shawn sputtered. “You just show up, fully clothed, in a stranger’s shower and your first question is what year it is? How the fuck did you get in here? Why my shower? Who are you?”

“Well, yeah. I guess so. I’ve not quite got a handle of the whole time traveling thing yet.”

Or the one where Shawn falls for Niall, who just happens to be a time traveler. The course of true love never did run smooth.

Like Honey to the Bee (3k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

Nick didn’t even remember knocking, but suddenly the door he also didn’t realise he was leaning on opened and he started falling inside Louis and Harry’s flat.

“Fuck,” Nick blurted as he tried to right himself. He was caught by Louis, which was great because he was exactly who he wanted to see and he didn’t really fancy dropping a massive jar of honey on his doorstep.

“Nicholas?” Louis asked.

Nick couldn’t help it. Hearing Louis call him by his full name made him shiver. He usually hated it, but there was something magical about Louis Tomlinson that made the usual negative association suddenly become an incredibly positive one.

“I brought you honey,” Nick blurted as he handed Louis the jar.

“I can see that,” Louis said, sounding confused. “Thanks?”

“Of course! It’s what friends do, yeah?”

Or the one where Nick has been trying to find a way to get past the banter stage with Louis for ages, and honey might be just what he needs to finally do so.

Rings and Things (2k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Niall: I know you’re a lesbian and all, but this is fast even for you

Or the one where Harry wakes up after a night of drinking to find her bed isn't empty and there's a ring she's never seen before on a very important finger.

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Grounded (28k) - Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“Shit, I definitely missed the last train.”

“Oh no,” Louis lamented. “I’d offer a ride, but I’m part of a carpool and we’re full already. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.” Then, what Louis said sank in. “Wait, I thought you were here alone?”

“Oh, I am. I’m the only one dancing here tonight. The others were working. In fact, here’s Nick now.”

It felt like slow motion as a tall, lanky man with incredible hair came walking over towards Louis. He smiled before pulling Louis into him and giving him a quick kiss.

“Nick, this is my new friend Harry. He just moved to the area and he’s amazing at swing. Harry, this is my husband, Nick.”

Fuck.

Or the one where Harry moves to Washington DC to be a nanny and never expects that his past struggles with love will be brought to a head. He definitely never expects the solution to it all will be the man of his dreams that just so happens to be married to the other man of his dreams.

A Halloween M(ass)hap (1k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was never going to forgive Niall. He’d been so distracted by his roommate’s cleaning and fussing while he had been looking for the perfect trousers for Liam’s annual Halloween fancy dress party that he’d not realised the black leather trousers he’d chosen to complete his vampire look were arseless.

Of course there was a no return policy, so he’d done the only thing he could do in order to not waste the money he’d already forked out online for the damn things: he added a cape.

Surely, nothing could go wrong.

I Wanna Love (Like You Made Me Feel) (28k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

By the time Harry and Louis are eighteen years old, they've known each other all four years of high school. Through those years, they never have a real chance to spend time together just the two of them. The summer after graduation gives them that chance, and it changes just about everything.

Ten years later, Louis returns home feeling like a failure after losing his job and not knowing where to go next. He never expects to run into Harry again, much less rekindle their friendship. Could this finally be their chance to finish what they started all those years ago, or did they really miss their chance at love?

Swipe Right for a Clean Flat (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was done. He was over this shit. He literally only asked his flatmate to do one chore, and that was the washing up. He couldn’t even handle a few plates and cups. Harry obviously overestimated him.

Louis wasn’t that bad. It was just that he only did the washing if he was going out to pull and wanted to bring someone home. If the dishes were put away, that was how Harry knew to vacate the premises. There was no way he was going to listen to yet another girl moan Louis’ name while Harry laid in bed and wondered what it might be like if only Louis liked men.

Glaring at the full sink and debating washing up himself - again - Harry finally turned and stalked to his room.

“Dire circumstances,” Harry muttered as he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are flatmates and Harry is tired of Louis not doing the washing up. He figures signing up on Tinder as a hot girl might be just the fix for this issue.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster (7k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

As Nick scanned the shelves, his eyes caught on a bright blue binding. Snooki, it read, A Shore Thing.

“Oh my God,” Nick mumbled, trying not to laugh as he picked it up. He’d watched bits and pieces of Jersey Shore way back in the day.

Without bothering to look any further around the store, he headed up to the counter where Blue eyes was watching him. Nick cleared his throat nervously and set the book on the counter and the man immediately flashed him a look of disdain.

“Seriously? Out of everything we have available, you chose the book we special ordered for a customer?”

“Well, it can’t be that bad if someone specifically requested it, right?” Nick said, trying to keep a teasing tone.

“Why do you think we still have it if it was a special order?” the man asked with a scoff. “They returned it after reading something like three pages.”

Nick frowned at the book. “Well that doesn’t seem very fair.”

Or the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don't exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention.

Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him.

“Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before.

“Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?”

“Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin.

Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.”

Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

#mine #my fic masterpost #yearly masterpost #2019 masterpost #my fic #my fic rec #fic rec

[hero-philia]

BNHA Secret Santa ~ A Name for Christmas

A/N: Hello everyone! Merry Christmas to all of you, but especially one person that happened to have me being announced her Secret Santa for the BNHA Writers Fest: @antigenius (Okay, why doesn't it let me tag you Q.Q) - I REALLY HOPE THAT YOU LIKE IT!

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A Name for Christmas | A Midoriya Izuku Oneshot

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The dust in front of him needed an eternity to clear at least a little. Midoriya couldn’t say that he was pleased with not being able to see anything but darkness. Still, he patiently waited for it to disappear nevertheless because he knew that someone was there. 

That you were there. Somewhere not too far away from him, though he couldn’t exactly tell where.

„I wasn’t expecting Christmas to be like this,“ he heard you cough from his right side.

Only a second later he spotted the flashy purple of your hero costume, which made him sigh in relief. 

He would most likely not admit in public that being a pro hero didn’t come with advantages all the time. Having to patrol on Christmas Eve was such a thing. Instead of watching some movie with you, the both of you gave it their best to stop a villain from randomly attacking people. 

Some debris had already hit the ground earlier, which left the whole area covered in dust. Even breathing had become a challenge ever since.

„Let’s show him what we think of his unholy behaviour!“ With this he gave you a nod before aiming for the seemingly invisible enemy.

So far Midoriya hadn’t gotten a real clue about the quirk of the stranger. The only thing he knew happened to be that it had something to do with controlling things like telekinesis. Earlier he had thrown a car right into the house behind them, missing the heroes just by a few inches.

People were surrounding the scene, at least they had done so. Did they run away as soon as the dust had hit the area? He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t risk to hesitate. 

Every second was important now.

Meanwhile you had managed to escape the place with bad sight. From your new position you watched the green dot going for the spot where the villain had been. Possible that he was still standing there. 

5 a.m. Who the heck attacked people at 5 a.m. on Christmas morning?! 

You stared at the tattoo on your arm, that presented your connection with your fellow hero. Luckily the wind cleared the fighting space and revealed the scenario again. From then on you guided Midoriya with ease, protecting him from the attacks by making his body move unconsciously. 

The boy threw one punch after another, groaning but getting up again if he had been hit himself. He smirked while he prepared to launch his signature attack at the unknowing man. Nothing would destroy his merry plans to celebrate Christmas with you!

„DETROIT … SMASH!“ His voice echoed through the area. A loud thud followed suit.

In order to delete the bond between him and you, you flicked your fingers. Needless to say that the third person was out cold, laying on the floor with a big crack in the road underneath his body. Never mess with Deku’s strength. 

Though he had just fought a villain, the green-head was smiling at you like nothing had happened. You appeared next to him when the few remaining witnesses cheered about your victory. 

„I can always count on you! Thank you for making me block all of those attacks,“ he blurted out in front of everyone. 

Good thing that the media hadn’t arrived yet because that would have caused an endless amount of interviews and stupid magazine articles. Admittedly, both of you were surprised that they hadn’t found out so far, despite seeing you work together as Pro Heroes for three years.

Deku and Collegato - Are they hiding a secret?

Midoriya always blushed at the thought of the newspapers revealing your relationship and everyone knowing it when they would see him. Every now and then he would ruffle his hair when he had just managed to not accidentally blurt out something.

But he enjoyed it either way as long as he could be together with you. 

~ 

„Can’t you stop risking your neck at least once, Midoriya? Both of you look horrible!“

Recovery Girl hadn’t reacted very well to seeing the two of you arriving in the emergency room. The costumes were covered in holes, his face carried one scratch next to the other, your hair pointed into every possible direction.

He scratched the back of his neck, „Sorry! But the villain was endangering a lot of innocent people. I couldn’t watch without doing something.“

In response Recovery Girl eyed at you, putting a smirk on. You tried to avoid her glare by putting your hair up into a ponytail. A rather childish behaviour for an adult and pro hero, but that didn’t matter for you.

„Ah, I see how things are. You jumped in because someone could have gotten hurt.“

And she had successfully broken him within two minutes. Midoriya turned into a stuttering mess who didn’t know where to look without sending weird signs while his face slowly changed its color. After that Recovery Girl didn’t need any official confirmation anymore. She wished a merry christmas before leaving the room.

You sighed. He sighed. 

You started to laugh. He started to laugh. 

„Seriously, I didn’t think that she would be the first one to find out,“ you gasped for air between the laughs as tears began to form in your eyes. 

Obviously, Midoriya’s mom as well as your parents and all of your friends were already informed about the relationship status. It would have been more than exhausting to hide it for two years, especially because none of you had seen a reason to. 

Several minutes later the laughter slowly died to leave space for the first silence since the attack had taken place. Regularly you caught him staring at you, your bandaged arm and the band-aid at your forehead to be more specific. That his own chest was wrapped in it didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

„Hey, Izu?“ He looked into your eyes. „I think we won’t make it to the cinema in time. How about directly going to your apartment instead?“

Originally the plan had consisted of watching a movie, then visiting a nice restaurant nearby and afterwards proceeding to simply enjoy each other’s presence at his. None of you had seen it coming that things might get messed up during your patrol.

Izuku being Izuku had insisted to take that shift because, one, you weren’t too much into Christmas as you didn’t grow up with it and, two, everyone else from the agency could take a day off to spend it with their loved ones. 

Casually you had agreed to accompany him as his patrol partner like usual, not even imagining that you could get a car thrown into your direction. Who would have?

Again he smiled at you this big, innocent smile filled with happiness: „Sounds great! Let’s do it this way…“

You thought he would continue talking as it looked like he hadn’t finished yet, but his eyes scanned the room. When he continued grinning at you while jumping off the bench, you didn’t give it another thought. Not hand in hand, yet close enough to potentially do it, you walked out of the hospital after you had promised Recovery Girl to watch after yourself a little better. Izuku had to do the same.

Still dressed in your completely stained hero costumes, Midoriya decided to make a detour to the agency. Both of you met in the lounge downstairs after you had changed into your normal clothes, which were much more comfortable and warming than the holes in your suits.

„I’m glad to see that you have a sense of sanity when it comes to wearing proper clothes in winter, that will actually keep you warm,“ you chuckled.

Within the past two years, your boyfriend’s style had made a turn to … the unexpected. 

The cropped, dark-green hoodie seemed to be at least somewhat warm. His ripped skinny jeans didn’t give off such a vibe, though you weren’t complaining about the fishnet stockings underneath. Sometimes the pullover would ride up a little too much, showing off his toned abs and you caught yourself staring at it rather often.

Too bad that he proceeded to put on this long coat, which always reminded you of fashion models. 

Compared to his hero outfit his daily life appearance didn’t have a lot in common with it. Therefore many people would not recognise who they were standing next to in public. Of course you made use of it while leaving the agency; this time hand in hand. 

~

Finally the apartment door fell shut behind your entering figures. As beautiful as all these lights in the streets might be, it didn’t take away the cold. 

You were about to step into the living room to collapse on the sofa, but Izuku physically restrained you from doing so. His bandaged hand applied a bit of pressure on your stomach area, careful not to accidentally hurt you. 

„Could you please wait here for a minute? I’ll be back in no time!“ 

A part of you wanted to walk through the now closed door anyways. On the other hand his puppy eyes had too much of an affect on you whenever he was pleading for something. Like leaving you in the chilly hallway. It always left you stunned that you wouldn’t turn mad then. 

At the same time Izuku had begun to throw around things in his bedroom before going on with the same procedure in the living room. When he had to pass the hallway, he gave you an apologetic smile only to moved on.

„Izuuuuuu? It’s getting kind of freezing out here,“ you complained a little.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, your boyfriend was struggling with multitasking as he tried to switch on the sound station and to put on his new sweater simultaneously. 

After pushing his head through the matching hole, he shouted, „Just a minute! I’m nearly finished!“

Literally a minute later, the door swung open in front of you. A wild mix of green, red and gold jumped into your sight. And you bursted out in laughter. 

„Oh my god! That’s the most Christmas-y sweater I’ve ever seen!“

He chuckled, „I know that you aren’t the Christmas type. But I still wanted to give it a try because it’s Christmas!“

When you stepped into the living room, not only the warmth of the heater embraced your body. The soft smell of gingerbread filled the room while old Christmas hits were playing in the background. Izuku had even decorated the windows with holiday lights, that were shining in all colours of the rainbow.

Before you could sit down to relax your sore limbs, he took your hand and guided you to the window front. 

„It’s so beautiful, Izu. I can’t believe you arranged all of this!“

You leaned onto his surprisingly warm body and nuzzled your cheek into the soft fabric of the sweater. The gold it contained, managed to bring out your boyfriend’s eyes even more, like they were real green emeralds. 

In response he rested his head on yours, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer.

„I’m really glad that you like it, baby.“

For a moment you didn’t react at all because you were busy replaying the scene in your head over and over again. Did this actually happen? Or did your tired mind start imagining things?

When you looked up to him with a question mark in your eyes, you noticed the small blush on his cheeks.

„Did you just call me baby?“

Out of nowhere Midoriya’s built up self-esteem disappeared and he began to fiddle around with his fingers while avoiding your glance as much as possible. His face turned into a tomato the longer the silence between the two of you lasted. You had probably pushed a button of his.

He stuttered, „Ehm, no. I mean … Yeah, I did! But if you don’t like it, we - we can forget that this happened and live on without ever mentioning it again. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you -„

„I love it. Please never stop using it.“

Now it was Izuku’s turn to replay everything in order to find out whether this had been real or his imagination. With wide eyes he looked down to you.

Your big smile eliminated all doubts and he closed both of his arms around you, leaving you caught in the middle. In this position you could hear his racing heart inside of his chest before pulling yourself up by intertwining your fingers behind his neck. By the second, your faces got closer to each other.

„Merry Christmas, baby.“

He didn’t leave you any room to answer or at least somehow return it before his warm lips made yours melt into a kiss. 

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Everyone have awesome holidays and enjoy your time with family/friends/yourself/your pets/etc. - I’m off to working on your requests now :3

#bnha writers fest #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha scenario #bnha fluff #bnha pro heroes #bnha x reader #bnha midoriya #bnha izuku #bnha deku #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader