#I’m still active but more lurking than anything for now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chimcess · 10 months

Text

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed.

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me.

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from.

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free.

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen.

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it.

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves.

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore?

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone.

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5.

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail.

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea.

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate.

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool.

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back.

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person.

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick.

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well.

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too.

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs.

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me.

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment.

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights.

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything.

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless.

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked.

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before.

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when?

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly.

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain.

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief.

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer.

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse.

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought.

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets.

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist.

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well.

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly.

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds.

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe.

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell.

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes.

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in.

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats.

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor.

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited.

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly.

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure.

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties.

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me.

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after.

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily.

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it.

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty.

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring.

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say. I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements.

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly.

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while.

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do.

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed.

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had.

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed.

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily.

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table.

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me.

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered.

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps.

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise.

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside.

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it.

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me.

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food.

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly.

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn.

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more.

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there.

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York.

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest.

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast.

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied.

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless.

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage.

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease.

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front.

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down.

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble.

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one.

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background.

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry.

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan.

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there.

Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something.

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture.

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease.

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room.

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus.

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be.

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything.

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched.

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me.

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that.

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt

698 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 9 days

Note

not sure if my ask sent BUT I’m loving people being vocal about the fandom not caring about eddie outside of buddie. it’s been happening since the dawn of time (lol) and there’s a reason so many vocalists about eddie decided to be loud and obnoxious about it (including yours truly). his journey is nuanced and he’s such a good character to explore a straight-maybe to bucksexual love with but it will take TIME for anything to happen because of that journey. still. you said eddie rights and i love that.

This is the only ask I got from you, so it probably got lost in the blue void if you sent something else. But absolutely, something I noticed during the hiatus, because while I have been lurking around the fandom since season 5, I only really started to actively post thoughts and stuff after the lightning, so I spent a really long time observing people even more when I started posting random metas, or just thoughts, people have this almost pathological need to make everything about Eddie about Buck. I legit remember making a post about Shannon and blocking several people because they kept making what happened with Shannon about Buck, and that's not it. Eddie is a FASCINATING character. He is so nuanced. And he is so well written and acted out. Like, I was casual about the show until fear-o-phobia (tbf that was the 3rd episode I watched live but still). Eddie grabbed me by the throat that day. And there's so much that people give Buck a pass that they would NEVER give to Eddie. And there's so much to explore with him. And yeah, I think his queer journey will involve Buck somehow, but because I truly believe that man is demi and I don't care about anything else. Making him have a complicated relationship with attraction as a whole is so much more interesting than saying he's just looking for a beard his whole life. And the amount of people I saw picking fights about people not shipping Buck and Tommy because "they have this need that Eddie should be the only man for Buck" (when literally everyone in the fandom hc Buck 1.0 as having slept with guys too) that are people I had seen saying that Eddie only ever loved Buck, straight up erasing the whole concept that he might've been in love with his wife is wild. If Eddie is not adding something to Buck and this idea that Buck is this baby that needs to be protected and can do no wrong, then he is being unnecessary or ooc or just plain weird and THAT'S WILD. Sure Buck and Eddie have a compelling relationship, and I LOVE exploring the possibilities around how much Eddie loves Buck, but Eddie exists for more than loving Buck and both of them exist outside of each other. Honestly, right now, Eddie needs some defenders because it's rough out here. If people can pick fights about Buck the way they do, Imma do the same about Eddie. If people don't agree then that's their problem.

#i am picking my battles tho #i got a few takes that got me so heated i decided it was best not to go there #but honestly #eddie exists outside of buddie and IM TIRED OF PEOPLE IGNORING THAT FOR THE SAKE OF GOING ALL #Oh BuT pOoR bAbY BuCk 🥺#because these people are also doing a disservice to Buck because they are erasing half of what makes Buck interesting #and i couple months ago i reached the conclusion that i down owe anyone access to me or my content #and i dont have to try to be diplomatic when people are being vile about Eddie #im ready to pick the fight if i have to #if you dont like it go away #i was fully expecting that to go south fast but i am finding more reasonable people so that's good #and i completely derailed here #Eddie Diaz Defense Squad #911 #i really need a tag for asks #thisissirius

57 notes · View notes

dreamcatchers-husband · 1 year

Text

Penmates

Male Reader X Lesserafim Huh Yunjin

Length: 13,200 +

Tags: Boyfriend, Girlfriend, friends,

A/N- Merry Christmas. the smut on this is is a bit short but I enjoy the plot I created. I hope you do too.

Can you remember your first time using a pen? Maybe a pencil?

Honestly, you would be lying if you said you remembered the first time but one certain time stuck out to you.

It was a rainy day. You can remember that because you weren’t allowed to go outside for recess, the favorite part of the day in 4th grade. As you sat in your chair sulking about your afternoon, your teacher clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Ok, now boys and girls. I have a fun activity planned today. Now I might have mentioned it before but I have a sister who is also a teacher in New York. We thought it would be fun if our classes were penpals!”

“What’s penpals?”

“Ah well, penpals are basically people who become friends by writing letters. Each of you will be given someone to write a letter to, so everyone pull out a piece and paper and a pencil please.”

Despite your thoughts still lurking on recess, your body reacted on its own to grab the materials you needed. Setting the notebook down on your desk, you grabbed your pencil and just held it in your hand. One by one, your teacher handed out a sheet to each student until she reached you.

“Ok Porter. You will write to Jennifer. I ran out of boys sadly but I’m sure this will still be fun.”

A groan left your mouth as you heard it was a girl you were gonna be forced to write to.

“But I don’t want to write to a girl Mrs. White.”

“Porter. This is your assignment. You need to do it. Just have fun with it. Talk about anything you like.”

As your teacher walked away, your eyes just started at the blank sheet. The scratches from your classmate's pencil’s echoed in the air as you just sat there.

“Three more minutes!”

You knew Mrs.White would be mad if you didn’t write anything but you had nothing. Each second that ticked by the more nervous you felt. With one minute left you quickly scribbled a few words and there and put your pencil down.

Hi, I’m Porter. How are you?

Your teacher came by and saw your note and frowned a bit. Despite that, she grabbed your note and folded it. Once she put it in an envelope, she took it back to her desk. Maybe that would be the end of all that.

A week later you found yourself walking back into class after recess. As you sat down at your desk, you noticed a small envelope sitting on top.

“Ok, everyone. Your letters from your pen pals have arrived. Feel free to open the envelopes and read what was written to you.”

Looking around, you saw your classmates grab their envelopes and begin to read the notes they got. Following their example, you ripped open the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper. Opening it, you saw there was more than you wrote.

Hi Porter, I’m Jennifer. I’m ok thank you. Where are you from? I’m from New York. It’s loud but fun here. Is it fun where you are? What do you like to do? Bye.”

As you finished reading the note, your hands extended out and ripped a new piece of paper to write. You honestly aren’t sure why you grabbed some paper when you didn’t want to write to her in the first place but it would be rude not to respond.

Grabbing your pencil, you began to write.

Hi Jennifer. I’m from New Jersey. It’s loud here too but I have fun. I like recess. What about you? Do you like recess?”

As you finished your note, you folded it and set it down on your table. Mrs. White came close to you and saw the letter was ready.

“Wow. You are done already. I’m glad I didn’t need to tell you to write to her.”

“I’m not mean.”

“No. You aren’t.”

Grabbing your letter, Mrs. White took it and put it in an envelope. Guess it’s just waiting time now.

5 months later

It was the final day of 4th grade and you sat at your desk. Everyone was excited it was the day before summer vacation, but you were excited for another reason.

“Ok class. This is the final letter from your penpal so please enjoy.”

Tearing the envelope open, your eyes quickly scanned the words on the sheet of paper.

Hi Porter. It’s the last day of school huh? I had a lot of fun talking to you all this time. I know we are done with the letters in class but can we keep talking? I asked my teacher and she said it’s ok. Send me another letter if you want to. Please?

“Porter?”

“Yes, Mrs.White?”

“Jennifer seems to really like talking to you so she asked her parents to see if you guys could keep sending letters. I already asked your parents also and they said ok. Would you like to?”

Your body reacted on its own as you just nodded aggressively.

“Very well then Porter. Your parents have her address to send the letters so feel free to continue. You are the only one who is gonna keep talking to their own pen pal.”

“Jen is really nice.”

“Well, I hope it continues to be fun. I’m glad I could get you a new friend.”

Walking away, you could agree with her. You really do have a new friend.

6th grade, October

Walking into your math class, you went over to your seat and began to take a seat. A sharp pain shot all over your butt as you jumped up. Looking down at the chair, you could see there was a thumbtack facing up. Laughter came from the other corner of the classroom as you saw your usual bullies enjoying your suffering.

Moving the thumbtack off your chair, you took your seat just as the teacher walked in and commenced his class. The rest of your day continued with much of the same. Dumb pranks being pulled on you while everyone else’s just ignored it.

Your walk home was calm for once as you managed to avoid all the other students leaving. As you saw the familiar outline of your home, you noticed the mailman dropping off your stuff in the mailbox. Seeing him made you excited, so you decided to run the final stretch to your home.

Once home, your hand opened the mailbox and pulled everything out. Grocery store fliers, bills stacked on top of everything. Despite looking for a few seconds, your excitement never dissipates, and for good reason.

At the bottom of the pile, a letter addressed to you could be found. From the handwriting alone, you could already tell who sent you this. Running into your home, you closed the door behind you and ran up to your room.

Closing the door, you jumped on your unmade bed and ripped open the cover.

Hi Porter. I hope your family is ok. I’m sorry you have been struggling with bullies at school. I want to tell you something my own parents told me. They said people who bully others normally have a horrible life at home. They just do it to make others feel how they feel. Keep that in mind, they are just sad about their own lives.

Let’s talk about something else to distract you. I recently heard some music that I think is cool. It’s called K-pop. I’m Korean so I know what they are saying but you might not. Either way, the beats are great. Check it out. I recommend 2NE1.

I have to get going but I’m looking forward to hearing from you port. Take care, please.

Love Jen

A large smile was plastered on your face after hearing from your best friend. Before you write something back, you decide to turn on your computer and go on YouTube. Typing in the name Jen gave you, you saw a couple of options pull up for this group.

Easy to say you were a bit reluctant to even listen to this music but Jennifer never did you wrong. Clicking on the first song, you noticed the title was Fire. The loud EDM-style beat started playing in your ears. Your head began to bop to the beat despite not understanding all the words. After a minute your whole body began to dance along to the video. It was official, you were hooked with just one song.

The rest of your afternoon was you going on a K-pop binge. Jumping all around from all these different artists, having fun. After a few hours, you heard a knock on your door it opened.

“Porter. Dinner is ready. Also, what’s with all the noise in here?”

“O-Oh, nothing mom. I was just getting ready to write back to Jennifer.”

“Well just write up your letter and then come down for dinner. Ok?”

“Ok, mom.”

As the door closed, you made your way back to your desk and got to writing.

Hey Jen.

I’m not even gonna lie. That music was so fun to dance around with. If you have more recommendations then let me know.

Thank you for saying those nice words also. You’re my best friend and I appreciate it. Mom came and told me dinner is ready so I should head down. I will talk to you in the next letter.

Bye, from Porter.

As you ended the letter, you quickly folded it up and put it in an envelope. All of your envelopes are already stamped and ready to be sent with how often you talk to Jen. Walking downstairs with the letter, you placed it down on the table next to the front door and made your way over to the kitchen.

Your best friend really did help distract you from some of the bad things in life.

8th grade, August

Summer vacation is one of the best times for a kid. As you sat down in the living room to watch tv, you couldn’t help but take small glances at the clock above the screen. As the clock strikes 1 pm, you dashed from off the couch to the mailbox outside.

You timed it perfectly as the mailman had just dropped off the correspondence for your home. Grabbing all of it, you ran back into your home and jumped back on the couch.

Looking through everything, you quickly found the letter addressed to you and ripped it open. As you read through the letter the best you could. With the obsession of K-pop between the two of you, you both decided to work on your Korean. Jen obviously wanted to make sure she kept up with the language her Parents spoke but you wanted to finally understand what you have been singing along to.

After 2 years, your Korean is decent enough that you can have a conversation.

Dear Porter

Sorry I missed our letter last week. Lately, I have been stuck singing all the time. My parents even tell me to be quiet at times with how I begin to belt songs out.

I actually want to run something past you. What would you think about me becoming an idol trainee? Sure you have never heard my voice but I keep having these dreams of me performing on a stage. Maybe that’s a sign.

If I do go with this I would have to go back to Korea for the first time in years but I think I could do it. What do you think, Oppa?

Be honest.

Love Jen

Yes, she calls you Oppa even if you are only a few months older.

Right off the bat, you knew if she went back to Korea the mail would probably have to stop but you were not about to stop this girl from going toward her dreams.

Getting your pen and paper, you got to writing.

Dear Jennifer

Don’t ever be sorry if you miss a week. We might have to get used to that.

If this is really what you feel is meant for you in life then do it. Even if I said no, you should follow your own gut. Yes, I haven’t heard your voice but I can just tell you have an amazing voice, just trust me on my gut feeling.

Go for it. I know you can do this. We can figure out how to keep in contact later. I wish you luck in deciding what to do.

From Porter

Only time will tell how this continues.

10th grade, November

High school somehow had a change. You ended up with a reputation for being very relaxed with everyone and helped people when they needed it. Nobody made fun of you anymore and in fact, respected you. With your new confidence in school, you began to take up new activities to make more friends.

Hockey ended up being your pastime. Making up for some of your spare time in the afternoon. Some of your other time was also spent on a few girls.

Yes, girls. You had a random glow-up one day that brought you the attention of plenty of girls. You had a few girlfriends in a year and a half but they always ended with you not being able to give your everything to the girl.

As you stood outside the front of the school, your now ex-girlfriend was walking away as you just ended things with her. It hurt you but it was for the best.

With no practice today, you made your way home on the bus. After the short bus ride, you got back home and walked into your home. With the house empty, your legs went straight to your room as you lay down on your bed.

A bit of time passed as you got back up and sat at your desk. A part of your afternoon is spent just doing your homework until it’s 5 pm. At that time, a ringing sound could be heard in your pocket. Searching, your hand pulls out your cell phone and answers the call you got.

“So how full is the bus today?”

“Surprisingly empty. Even though I’m running a bit late.”

“Did you forget to put on your alarm?”

“Yes. It was an accident.”

“You gotta make sure your school attendance is good. Too many mess ups and they won’t let you continue as a trainee.”

“I will make sure to continue doing well. Don’t worry about me, Oppa.”

“Speaking of doing well. I’m assuming that’s how you are doing with your training?”

“I-It’s tough but I think I’m doing well.”

“I k…”

“Oppa I’m sorry but I need to hop off the bus. We can talk later tonight, bye.”

Before you could get another word out, Jen hung up the call and left you there. You weren’t mad at all as you knew she was late for school. Putting your phone down, you ended the rest of your afternoon with dinner and a few games.

1 AM came around as you began a FaceTime call. After a few rings, the call was answered. Looking at the screen, you could only see some brown hair as well as a brown eye.

“We have been FaceTiming for a year and a half now and I have only seen the corner of your face all this time.”

“I have told you before. I’m shy.”

“I know I know. I’m just playing. How was school today?”

“Not bad. I managed to make it with one minute to spare so that was good. I have practice in a few hours and you started a call. Figured I could kill time with my B-Best friend.”

You couldn’t help but notice a small flutter in her tone as she said that.

“Well thank you for picking up my call. I actually sent you a care package to your P.O. Box. I’m not sure if you got it yet.”

“Yeah, I stopped by the post office. I see it’s a box. What’s in it this time?”

Not waiting for a response, Jennifer ripped off the tape of the box and opened it.

“Yessssss cheez-it’s. They can be so hard to find here in Korea. Thank you!”

“No problem. There are a few other snacks in there so I hope you enjoy them.”

“Thanks, Porter Oppa. I never got to ask but how was school for you today?”

“Oh. It was ok.”

“H-How’s Natalie?”

There was a bit of a sad tone in that question.

“Oh. I ended things”

“WAIT REALLY? I mean why?”

“I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings properly. Why continue a relationship I’m not entirely in?”

“Yeah, I get that. That happened to me with all my previous relationships. I guess I’m stuck on trying to find the perfect guy.”

“W-Who is the perfect guy?”

“I-I guess it would be a sweet guy who encouraged me with everything and helped me when I needed it.”

In your mind, you were hoping she was describing you but it’s best not to assume.

“What about you Oppa? What’s your dream girl?”

You. That’s what you wanted to blurt out but it would be best not to risk it.

“A sweet girl who will want to talk to me even when she is tired. Someone who just gets me.”

“W-Well. I hope you find your dream girl one of these days.”

“Enough about relationships. What song did you choose for your monthly evaluation?”

“Well this is a bit of a throwback but I’m doing Lonely by 2ne1.”

“I love that song. 2ne1 reminds me of you and the start of my love for K-pop.”

“Yeah. Man, I can't believe it’s been a few years already.”

“Yeah. Time really flies.”

That statement was very true as you took a small glance at the time, it was 3 am. Your body reacted to that sight with a yawn.

“Shoot, it's been a few hours already. I should let you sleep. Good night Porter. I’ll talk to you later. Love ya.”

“Night Jen.”

Hanging up the call, you quickly close your eyes and lay on your bed. Exhaustion took over as you quickly passed out.

12th Grade, June.

As you parked your car, you stepped out of your vehicle with your cap and gown still on. Today was a day of celebration but you didn’t feel like doing that. As you entered your house, the sound of nothingness was apparent throughout the house.

Sitting down on the couch, you just sat there in silence with a picture frame in front of you.

Two months ago your parents sadly passed away in a car accident. It was the shock of your life that nearly broke you. You managed to graduate but just barely. The only thing you don't have to worry about is money. They left you enough to last a decade.

Staring at the image, your eyes began to water slowly. You could have started sobbing if it wasn’t for the sudden ring from your cell phone. Cleaning your eyes, you pulled out your phone and saw who was calling. Pick up the FaceTime call, you smiled at the screen.

“HAPPY GRADUATION!”

“Thanks, Jen.”

Even after all this time, Jennifer was still hiding her full face. All you could see on the screen was her left eye.

Despite only her eye on the screen, she could look into your own.

“If I was there I would hug you myself. Your parents would be proud.”

Those few words were enough to make you break your facàde. Your tears began to roll down your cheek, falling from your face.

“I miss them. I-It’s just hard being alone.”

“I’m sorry Oppa. They were great people. Every time I talked to them, they treated me like I was a part of your family too.

“Yeah. That’s how they were. Kind.”

“I know you said you are alone but I want you to remember that you have me. I'm not going anywhere.”

A simple statement but it reminded you that Jennifer had stuck by your side for so many years. She would continue to stick around. Smiling towards the screen you cleaned up your face and laughed a bit.

“Thank you, Jen. It’s a happy day. I should try to be happy. It’s what they would want.”

“Yeah. I actually took the whole day off from all plans so we will spend the whole day eating and watching movies. Ok?”

“Sure. That sounds great.”

Your whole day went by doing exactly that. Eating junk food and watching movies all day. The pain still lingered in your heart but Jen did everything she could to make you happy.

Once it got dark out, you looked at the time and saw it was early morning. A small snore could be heard from the phone. Jennifer stayed up all night with you to celebrate. This little action just confirmed how you felt.

Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over the red button. Before you ended the call, you said four words to the sleeping girl.

“I love you, Jen.”

As your heart pounded from saying those words, you hung up the call and laid back on your couch. Maybe one day you can tell her in person.

November 2022

In a year, you found yourself studying in a little trade job. Higher education wasn’t really in your sight for the future and you felt joy working with your hands.

After a long day at work, you found yourself cooking. And by cooking, you were just heating a microwave dinner. Pulling the small box out of the microwave, you placed it down on your kitchen table. Grabbing your utensils, you began to move your food around till you heard your phone ring.

A groan left your mouth as you were already getting ready to eat. Pulling your phone out, you saw it was a number you didn’t talk to often.

“Oh hello Mrs. Huh. How are you?”

“I’m well Porter. How are you?”

“I’m ok. Was getting dinner ready.”

“Oh I’m sorry to bother but I want to talk to you about something.”

“Oh sure. What’s up?”

“Have you had a chance to talk to Jen today?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t spoken to her in 2 days but we speak when she can. She says her training is getting harder so I don’t want to bother.”

“I see. Well, Jennifer has been stressed lately and I was thinking about giving her a gift to make her happy.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. Did you want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to be the present. I think it’s time for the two of you to meet.”

Your eyes shot open at those words. Was she serious?

“W-Wait really?”

“Yes. Me and Mr. Huh think it’s time for the two of you to meet. She needs her best friend I feel and it’s best to get an actual hug from you in person. We will cover all the costs and such. You just need to be there in time to be her Christmas gift.”

It was your dream to meet Jennifer in person but should you do it?

Your heart took over somehow as the word “absolutely” left your mouth.

“Perfect. So the plan is that I will tell Jen that a package from me is at the post office. She always lets me know when she’s gonna go get it so you will wait for her there. She will hold a medium size red box with snowmen all over it. When you see her, you can go and surprise her!”

A little bit of a weird plan but you were down for it.

“Ok. Let’s do this then.”

December 22nd, 2022

Sitting in a restaurant, you found yourself just going over things. You had a month to plan your visit so you decided to see what else you could do in South Korea during your trip.

Conveniently enough. On the 24th, there was gonna be a special fan sign meeting for your new favorite group. Lesserafim quickly took the place as your favorite 4th gen K-pop group. Each member had qualities you loved so you were excited to meet every single one of them but one specific girl always caught your attention. Yunjin was such a chill and cool person that she seemed like the type of person you could talk to for hours.

Heck, it felt like you almost knew her. Her voice even seemed familiar. Probably just your imagination. Either way, you were excited to get to meet the idols who made you smile.

Taking a final bite of your chicken, you raised your hand and asked for the check. A woman quickly ran over with it and put it on your table. Seeing the total was 30,000 won, you placed three 10,000 won bills on the table and walked outside.

With a short two-minute walk, you entered a post office and sat down at a chair.

Today was the day you would meet her in person. To say you were nervous was an understatement. Taking a few deep breaths, you began to relax until your ringtone went off. Pulling it out of your pocket, you saw it was Jennifer’s mom.

“Hello?”

“Porter. Are you there?”

“Yes, I am Mrs.Huh.”

“Perfect, she will be there in two minutes. Remember, the red box with snowmen around it is her.”

“Got it!”

Hanging up the call, you continued to take small glances at the door that people entered and left. Finally, after what seems to be Four minutes, you happen to see 2 girls enter the building with masks on. You couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity with these two subjects but you paid them no mind.

At that time your mind gave you the bright idea to start looking around as the girl could already be in the building. Once looking, you were met with a nightmare. Several people had red boxes with snowmen on them. As each person passed you, the more you felt confused about who Jennifer could be. Heck, maybe she wasn't even here anymore.

At that moment, you got the bright idea of calling Jen’s phone and seeing if she picked up. Once your phone was out, you found Jennifer's contact info and clicked on her number. Putting the phone up to your ear, you began to look around to see if anyone with a red box picked up their phone.

As your eyes scanned the group of people, you heard a ringtone come from your left side. Looking for the source, you saw the two girls from earlier walking out with a red box with snowmen. As one of the girls puts up her phone to her ear and removes her mask, you finally hear a response through your phone.

You had no doubt, that was Jennifer. Standing up, you began to run after the girl.

“Hello? Oppa?”

“Oh hey, Jen.”

Once outside, you looked both directions and saw the 2 girls walking towards a van. Running behind them you began to get closer and closer to them.

“Why does it sound like you're running?”

“I-I am.”

Finally, behind the blonde girl, you tapped on her shoulder. The girl jumped a bit and turned around. Once she faced you, your eyes shot open. Your heart began to pound as you stared at the familiar girl in front of you. It was Huh Yunjin from Lesserafim.

“J-Jen?”

“O-Oppa?”

Both you and Yunjin stood there in silence for a moment until you heard a cough. Looking for the source, you saw it was the girl next to Yunjin.

“Hi there. I'm Chaewon. You are?”

“I-Im I-Im P-Porter.”

Chaewon’s own eyes shot wide open as she heard your name. You were so confused about what was happening but you knew you needed to speak to Yunjin.

“I-I never knew you were-“

“I TOLD YOU WE SHOULDN'T MEET!”

Before you could get another word out, Yunjin ran towards the van and opened the door. As she jumped in, you began to run after her until the driver came out of the van and grabbed you.

“HEY! LEAVE OR I'M CALLING THE POLICE.”

“Jennifer! Talk to me please!”

The man that grabbed you got angrier but before he could do anything you heard a voice next to the both of you.

“Oppa. He's a friend, please don't call the police. Just give me a minute with him ok.”

The man who you could now assume was their manager let go and sat back in the van.

“Porter. Let's step back.”

Listening to Chaewon, you both backed up from the van, out of earshot.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. What are you doing here?”

“Her parents made this happen. They thought it was time for the best friends to meet in person. It was a surprise.”

“Of course they did. It's a great gift idea but you caught Yunjin off guard. Just give her a minute to cool down. Are you in town for a while?”

“Yeah. I'm here for a couple more weeks. I was also gonna attend the fansign but I guess I shouldn't now.”

“No, it's ok. You can come. I'm sure she will be ok with all this by then. Just give her a bit, ok?”

“O-Oh ok then, Chaewon. Thank you.”

“Call me Noona. It was great to meet you either way. I’ll see you at the fansign.”

With a nod, Chaewon ran back to the van and sat down. As the door closed you could see Yunjin was just staring at you. Once the door was closed it began to drive away.

It wasn’t until you were all alone that it hit you. Yunjin’s English name is Jennifer. Her last name is Huh and she lived in New York. How were you so dumb?

Despite all this, you were just hoping that Jen wasn’t mad and would talk to you later on. Seeing a cab, you hailed it down and made your way back to your hotel.

———————————————————————

The ride in the van was silent. Chaewon nor your manager decided to talk to you as you just looked down at the ground. Once in the parking garage, you opened the door and made your way up to the apartment. Time just flew as you were suddenly at your front door.

Once the passcode was typed in, you made your way into the home and ran into your room. Seeing there was no one in there, your hand quickly locked the door and then threw the box on your bed. Ripping it open, you found a small envelope in the center of the box.

Pulling it out, you opened it and found writing that you recognized as your mother's.

Call me. I hope you liked your gift.

An annoyed grunt left your mouth as your hand pulled out your phone. Finding your mother's number, you rang her up waiting for her to pick up. As you heard someone pick up, you didn’t even let them get a word out.

“MOM, WHY?”

“Why what? Did you enjoy your gift? Is Porter there with you?”

“No, he’s not here mom. I-I got in the van and left him there.”

Silence is all that could be heard. You could already tell your mother was not happy.

“Huh Yunjin. I taught you not to be rude. Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not ready to meet him in person yet!”

“So when will be the right time? When you are both senior citizens? You always say you aren’t ready. Why?”

Before you could answer you heard the door handle begin to rattle a bit.

“Unnie? Are you ok?”

“I-I’m fine Eunchae. Just on a call with my mom.”

“Oh sorry. I’ll go.”

As the sound of footsteps hit your ears, you heard a ring come from your phone. Your mother was now wanting to do a facetime call. Picking it up, you could see the angry look on her face.

“Why do you keep saying you aren’t ready?”

Hesitation is what you felt before you spoke until it just came out of your mouth.

“What if he acts differently because I’m an idol? Do you know how many times he told me Yunjin from Lesserafim was his bias? Not only that, I have been lying to him for a year now.”

As your mother looked at you, her angry stare became one of care.

“You have known Porter for over ten years now. Does he seem like the type to change because of that? If I recall correctly he always said Yunjin was his bias because she seemed like the two he could be great friends with. That’s what you told me he said. He will still treat you like his best friend, he will also understand why you kept it from him. What is the real reason you are scared to see him?”

It wasn’t until your mother said those words that you realized those weren’t the real reasons.

“Yunjin, Sweetie. Be honest with yourself. What is the reason?”

“What if he doesn’t love me?”

You were shocked those words left your mouth but that was the real reason.

“Sweetie. Do you really think a boy who spends all his time waiting to talk to a girl, even sacrificing his sleep, doesn't love her? I have seen how the two of you talk over the years. That boy is head over heels for you and he had never even seen your face.”

The source of comfort from your mother finally filled you with a confidence you never had before.

“Oh my god. I LEFT HIM JUST STANDING THERE MOM!”

“What are you doing talking to me then? Go find him!”

“Right. Bye mom!”

Unlocking the door, you yanked the door open. Out of nowhere, you felt a weight fall on your body as it dropped to the ground. On top of you was the combined weight of all of the Lesserafim members.

Jumping off you, the girls all stood up and helped you up.

“Sorry. We couldn’t help but be nosey. Are you ok Yunjin?”

“I’m ok Kkura Unnie. I just really need to go find Porter.”

“Yeah, manager Oppa doesn’t want us going out for the rest of the day sadly.”

“Chaewon unnie. Can you talk to him, please? I need to talk to Porter Oppa.”

“I’m sorry Yunjin but he said no exceptions. I do have a nice bit of information to share with you though. Guess who will be going to our fansign?”

“P-Porter?”

“Yeah, he will. Take that moment to say a few words to him.”

“But I want to say more than just a few words!”

“Why don’t you invite him to our Christmas party at the dorm? We can all talk to him more at the time also! Most of us will be leaving before midnight to visit our families so you can have some company until tomorrow as well.”

“Zuha! You’re a genius!”

“I know. So guess we are all meeting your future husband then.”

A slight blush filled your face as the girls laughed.

You were gonna try to make it up to him.

———————————————————————

December 24th, Christmas eve

Stepping out of your taxi, you began the short walk up the sidewalk to the building. Seeing a small line for the door, you got behind everyone and began to wait. After a few minutes, the line began to move into the building.

Once through the metal doors, you saw everyone going up to a desk where they were checking in. The process seemed to be shorter than you thought as after 5 minutes you are in front of the woman.

“Welcome. Do you have your QR code to check in? I will also need to see an ID.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

Pulling your phone out, you opened the email with the QR code and handed it to the woman. As she scanned it, you pulled out your passport and handed it to her. Matching your id with the information on her device, the woman handed it all back and gave you a small badge.

“Ok Mr. Ward, now you just need to pull your number out of this box and it will decide what seat you will be in.”

Putting your hand in the box, your hand began to roam around passing small pieces of paper. Landing on the top right corner, you grab the piece of paper closest to your hand and pull it out. Unfolding the blue sheet, you felt excitement and Nerves as you saw the number Seven plastered in the middle.

“Ah. Lucky number seven. You will be in the front row! When you enter, just look for the chair with the same number. That will be the seat for the fansign.”

“Thank you, miss. Have a good day.”

A few steps away from the desk you made it to the security section. Once you pass the various machines and people checking you, your legs follow the signs to the hall for the fansign. Entering, you saw all of the previous people in line already in their seats. The excitement is plastered on their faces despite having face masks on.

Walking into the front row, you looked at the numbers until you found your seat. Sitting down, you proceeded to pull out your phone and just play on it. Various people were walking around and such but your concentration was stuck on your mobile device.

Open on the notes page, your eyes scanned over the various things you had written. Each paragraph was a different thing you could say to your best friend. Should you be funny? Nice? Dorky?.

You had options for all of those but your mind was running a million miles per hour, thinking about what was possibly the right thing. Time just passed as you suddenly heard the tap of a hand on a microphone.

At the top right corner of your phone, 6:00 pm was plastered.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Are you all ready to see Lesserafim!?”

The cheers that left everyone’s mouths nearly left you deaf at that moment. Despite the back of your mind still being stuck on what to say, your excitement overtook all other emotions you were feeling. As your own cheers began to fill the air, the door on the right side swung open.

A man you recognized as manager from before walked into the hall with the girls in tow. Chaewon walked in first, waving at everyone in the crowd. Next was Sakura who was shooting finger hearts at everyone who did the same.

You thought it was going in age order but as the playful maknae ran in and jumped on Sakura, you saw it wasn’t. Riding on Sakura’s back, Eunchae's actions just warmed your heart. Kazuha got closer to the Maknea and began to pull her off her unnie’s back.

Despite the sound of laughter filling the room, one distinct laugh blessed your ears. Even in this full room, you could recognize the sound of your best friend. As she walked in, a smile was plastered on her face watching her members' interaction.

The black beret with little white cloth balls dangling matched her white sweater on top. Below all of that was a short checkered skirt that showed her long legs. You were hypnotized by the young idol as she stood on stage, next to her group mates.

“One two three, Hi we are Lesserafim!”

Applause from yourself and other fellow fans filled the hall from those seven words. As each girl looked around, Yunjin’s eyes suddenly met with your own. It felt like you two were the only ones in the room at that instant.

Her face was just blank as was your own. A sudden tap on Yunjin’s shoulder brought her back to her senses as she went back to the fansign. With each joke that the members made, the more you forgot about your worries.

“Ok, I think we have killed a little bit of time. Let’s get started with the fansign. Pull out your albums and they should have post-it notes on what pages you want to be signed already. With that said, let’s get out fansign started.”

As everyone clapped, you pulled out your album and went over what pages you wanted to be signed.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Now we will be going in numerical order. Number one will start with Chaewon, then go down the line. Each person will go up as the next chair opens. Ok?”

Confirming you all understood, the first fan made his way up the small stairs and sat in front of the baby cheetah. As each person went up the staircase, you prepared yourself to meet the idols that stole your heart.

A security guard at that time tapped on your shoulder and pointed at the first open seat. As you stood up, your legs began to shake as you stepped closer and closer. The three steps up to the stage were soon behind you as your behind sat in the chair.

A wide smile was on the leader's face as she saw you.

“Porter! How are you?”

“O-Oh I’m ok Chaewon. How are you?”

“Good and remember I told you to call me Noona, ok?”

“Right. Sorry, Noona. I’m not really used to that. Also doesn’t help that I'm such a big fan.”

“It’s ok. I'm sure you will get used to it. We have heard so much about you that you are basically a friend of ours already.”

“W-Wow.”

A small ring of a bell let you know your minute was over with Chaewon. Passing your album to Sakura, the cheese ball smiled at you.

“I’ll talk to you later. Enjoy the rest of the fansign!”

“Thank you Noona.”

Sliding to the next seat, you are now face to face with the oldest member of Lesserafim, Sakura. When in front of the Japanese girl, her face gave you a giant smile as she made eye contact.

Looking down at the album, her eyes almost popped out as she saw your name.

“So you are the famous Porter.”

Sakura must have said that louder than she intended as the rest of the members down the line looked over at you. A small blush must have appeared on your face as Sakura began to giggle.

“Don’t worry. I have only heard good things. So how long have you been a fan?”

“O-Oh I was a big fan of Izone and was very sad after, well you know what. The second I heard you and chae would be in a new group together I was so excited and couldn’t wait. Your debut didn’t disappoint.”

“Well, I’m grateful you continued to support me and Chaewon after that difficult time. Please continue to support us all!”

“Always.”

The small ring from earlier returned, signaling your time is up. With a small bow, you slid over to the next seat facing the beautiful swan that is Kazuha.

“Hi, Oppa. How are you?”

“I’m great Kazuha. How are you? Your Korean is sounding great.”

“Thank you. I am practicing hard. I hope you like Korea. It’s really nice.”

“Oh yeah. The food already has me in love as well as other things.”

Taking a small glance down the line. You saw Yunjin with a wide smile towards the fan in front of her.

“Yeah, unnie is great. She was one of the few people I could talk to when I came. She’s the best.”

As the bell rang, you took one more glance at the Japanese girl's eyes. You could see the sincerity in her love for Yunjin. You’re glad she has friends like them.

Waving goodbye to Kazuha, you hopped to the next seat in front of the young maknae.

“Hi, Eunchae. Did you enjoy your ride on Zuha earlier?”

“Of course I did. Piggyback rides are the best Oppa. Maybe one day you can give me one.”

Just as you thought, she was very playful.

“I hope the girls treat you well but I’m sure there are times when they scold you.”

“Yeah they do but it’s ok. I love my unnies. Yunjin has been helping me study English more.”

“I’m sure she’s a great teacher. She’s always been smart.”

“Were you always good at Korean? You speak it very well.”

“Oh. Well my friend Jennifer helped teach me. You should have seen the beginning. I could barely say hello. She had plenty of patience with me and that helped a lot.”

Before either of you could get another word out, the small ring echoed in your ears once more.

“Bye Oppa. Good luck.”

With a small nod, you began to stand up from the seat. Taking a glance at Yunjin, your legs suddenly felt like jelly. All the strength in your legs left as you fell on the seat perfectly. At that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the idol, Your glance just toward the table.

“Hi, there! Porter right?”

As you finally found the courage to look Yunjin in the eyes, you were met with a sweet smile like the other girls. The sight paired with her voice took all feelings of anxiety away.

“H-Hi Yunjin. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Porter. You don’t seem like you're from here. Where are you from?”

“Um. New Jersey. Kinda close to where you lived right?”

“Yeah. New York. It’s always nice to meet a fellow east coaster. I hope your visit here was worth the long flight.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s starting to feel like it was.”

A small blush appeared on Yunjin’s face as she continued to write in your album. As much as you wanted to make more conversation, you honestly weren’t sure what to say. Before you knew it, the ring from the bell told you it was all over.

“I-Um. Thank you Je- I mean Yunjin.”

“Of course Porter. Please continue to support us. And I hope you liked my message in the album.”

Grabbing the album, your legs pushed your body up from the chair. Stepping down from the stage, you made your way back to your numbered seat and relaxed finally. As you went through the pages signed, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kind words from Yunjin’s members.

Eunchae’s note was the most playful.

“I’m happy to finally meet in person unnies, future husband.!”

Moving on from her note you went on to the last page signed, Yunjin’s. As you finally opened the sheet of paper on the book, your eyes were suddenly brought to something that was written.

On the pages was an address written out on the sticky note.

“Meet us here at Seven. It’s our Christmas party and we want to spend time with you.”

Reading those words made you excited yet a bit let down it did say that she specifically wanted to spend time with you. Either way, you would take this blessing and roll with it. The rest of the fansign went by in a flash with the girls performing their latest hit Antifragile for everyone before leaving.

The travel back to your hotel room was uneventful and short. When you entered, your mind automatically went to your gift for Yunjin. Finding the wrapped package in the corner, your hands picked it up and put it in the black backpack laying on your bed. Would Yunjin like this gift?

Only one way to find out.

Walking out of the hotel building, you found the Uber you ordered waiting. The red tint of the car matched the red tint from the box you used to find Yunjin a few days ago. Had you been told that your person would be going to meet up with Lesserafim a month ago, you would have called them crazy.

Your life was just filled with surprises. Scrolling through Twitter made the car ride flash by in an instant. Saying thank you to the man, your legs brought you out of the crimson vehicle into the large city. Looking around, you saw that the girl's home was in a nice part of town.

Strolling up to the large glass building, your arms opened a door leading you to a small gangway of sorts. The door has a scanner for a key fob but since you didn’t have one, you would need to ring the doorbell.

Finding the button to apartment two hundred twenty-one, your finger then hovers above it for a few minutes. You hadn't even realized time had passed until your senses came back to you. Pressing the button, your ears picked up the buzzing sound coming out of the device.

Waiting for a response, a few seconds passed until you heard a voice.

“Hello?”

“H-Hello. It’s Porter.”

“Oh, Oppa. Take the elevator up to the 15th floor. Our apartment will be on the right side when you exit. Third door on the left wall.”

“Thanks, Eunchae. I’ll be up there soon.”

Once you heard the buzzing, your hand pulled on the door opening it. Finally in the building, you saw a few chairs in that lobby as well as some plants. Taking a few steps further, you found yourself in front of the elevator summoning it to the lobby.

A familiar ding fills the lobby as the metal cube arrives. Once the doors opened, you stepped on and saw it was one of the nicest elevators you had ever been in. Ordering the button to the 15th floor. The doors to the metal machine closed rapidly. The elevator began to rise the floors quickly as a little tune echoed in there.

Once a ding hit your ears once more, the doors opened showing you the white hallway. Following Eunchae’s instructions, you exited the elevator and went right. Walking past two doors, your feet brought you to the apartment of the girls.

Knocking on the door, you patiently waited as you heard whispers behind the door. With a swing, the door opened showing you an excited Maknae.

“Hi, Oppa. Come in!”

“Oh, thanks Manchae. Can I call you that?”

“Of course. Now let’s go!”

Grabbing your hand, Eunchae pulled you into their home. Once passed the small hallway, you found yourself in the middle of the living room. The giant living room was blessed with a skyline view. Easy to see when the window in the room was the entire wall.

“Yeah. The view is amazing huh Oppa?”

“Yes it is. I’ve only been in here yet I can tell this is an amazing home. Can I sit down?”

With a nod of approval, you sat down on the leather couch as Eunchae sat next to you. On your right side, you could see several figures moving around rapidly.

“So Oppa, are you in love with unnie?”

That question made you choke on your air suddenly. Your aggressive coughing seed to get everyone’s attention as a couple of heads popped from the kitchen.

“EUNCHAE. YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING HIM UNCOMFORTABLE.”

“I'M NOT KKURA UNNIE. IS THE FOOD READY?”

“YES. COME GET YOUR PLATES YOU TWO.”

Sakura was like a mother. Standing up, you made your way over to the kitchen for your dinner. The nice Samsung fridge caught your attention as you saw all of the top-of-the-line appliances in there.

“Welcome to our home Porter. We ordered a variety of food I hope you enjoyed.”

“T-Thank you Kkura Noona.”

Grabbing your plate, you filled it to the brim with a variety of noodles, rice, and meat. As all the other girls finished serving their plates, you went and picked up another. Filling it with the same food as your own, you then picked your spare plate up and brought it to the living room with the rest of the girls.

“Why did you get two plates, Oppa? Are you that hungry?”

“No Zuha. This plate isn’t for me.”

On cue, footsteps came from the second hallway. Time felt like it stopped with each step the person took. After a few seconds, a shadow appeared and grew bigger and bigger until a figure appeared.

Her beauty just took your breath at that moment. Her blonde hair just flowed perfectly down her shoulders fitting in well with the white sweater she had on. The short skirt showed you her milky legs that just made your mouth water at that moment. Looks like she didn’t change clothes.

Looking up, you made eye contact with Yunjin who was smiling at you. The two of you must have just frozen as laughter and the sound of Chaewon got both of your attention.

“If you two are done staring at each other the food is getting cold.”

“O-Oh. Yeah, let's eat. Let me get a plate.”

“NO! I mean, I already got you a plate.”

Stretching out your hand, you showed the plate to Yunjin who walked over and grabbed it.

“Ttboki, chicken, these are all of my favorites. You remembered.”

“Of course. Enjoy your meal, Jen.”

“T-Thank you Oppa.”

Sitting next to You, the group began to eat and enjoy their meals in silence for a bit. The echo of silence began to feel awkward, Your mind honestly couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“So how was the fansign Oppa? Did you have fun?”

“Oh, Yeah definitely. It was my first fansign ever and it met all my expectations. It’s honestly so crazy I got in. Some of those fans buy so many albums but I still got in!”

Your overexcitement was funny to the girls. Sure they saw it from fans all the time but to have one of those fans in their home, also a close friend of one of them was a completely new thing.

“Well, Porter. I’m glad you had fun but we all wanted to get to know you more so we told Yunjin to invite you. Plus I think she owes you that after running away a few days ago.”

“YAH! That was an accident. Oppa I-I”

“We can talk about that later? Ok?”

“Ok. Let’s just enjoy this holiday.”

“Yeah Porter. Tell us about your family and such.

“Oh. Well, I'm a single child and I had two amazing parents. They sadly aren’t with us anymore but they supported me a lot. I owe them a lot.”

Your body sulked a little thinking about your parents but the sudden feeling of a hand on your back got your attention. Looking to the right, you saw that Yunjin had her hand on you as a sign of comfort. A basic sentiment but it was enough.

“I never met Porter's parents in person, though they always treated me like I was a part of the family. They really were great people.”

“Yeah. Anyway, do you have any more questions?”

At that time Sakura raised her hand to ask a question.

“Yunjin never specified but how did you guys meet? It’s a little weird that best friends had never seen each other's face before.”

“Wow. She never told you? Well, Yunjin and I met in fourth grade. We were penpals.”

“What are penpals?”

“Oh, you don’t know Eunchae? Well when you are younger, sometimes your teachers will start this project. You get assigned someone you are supposed to write letters to who is from another location. Sometimes it’s with others from another country but we were assigned because our teachers were sisters.”

“So you both met by writing letters to each other?”

“Yep. That’s how Zuha.”

“That’s cool. How did it continue?”

A glance at Chaewon showed you how excited she was to learn more.

“Once the assignment was over, our teachers noticed that we got so invested in being friends so maybe we should continue. They gave our home info to our parents and asked us if we wanted to keep going. Months turned into years as we continued to talk. Not only that but cell phones and video calls improved.”

“Oh, we know all about your video calls. Yunjin would never let us in the room when she would talk to you.”

“Jen why?”

“KKURA UNNIE! DON’T TELL HIM THAT!”

“Hey it’s true, Yunjin. Plus he would find out one way or another. It’s fine either way. We saw the way talking to him made you smile.”

“Yah!”

Laughing at what you heard, you wrapped Yunjin in a side hug as she sulked. Neither of you reacted to your action at first until you heard the Lesserafim girls scream in excitement. Realizing what you did, your arm came off of her and stood back at your side.

“Hey, you shouldn't have moved your arm, Oppa. I’m sure unnie liked it.”

“Ok, that’s enough Eunchae. Don’t bother your Unnie.”

“Ok ok. I’m sorry Oppa and I’m sorry to you too unnie. Or should I say, Mrs.Ward.”

The maknae said that last bit in a whisper but enough for everyone but Yunjin to hear. Hearing Eunchae call her your future wife made your heart flutter at that moment. It was like music to your ears.

“Ok ok let’s keep talking. Anything else you guys are wondering?”

All of the other girls raised their hands in that instant. Looks like it would be a long talk.

Hours went by as it finally reached 11:30 pm. The various questions that both you and Yunjin answered made time get away from everybody. The sound of the front door opening got everyone’s attention. The sight of their manager seemed to get a response from the girls as everyone but Yunjin jumped up.

“WE HAVE TO GO!”

“Go? Oh did I take up too much of your guy’s time? I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s ok Porter. Me and the rest of my members are going home for the holiday. Yunjin is staying here until tomorrow so you guys can still catch up. We are going to go get our stuff.”

Before you could respond to Chaewon, all of the rest of the girls ran to their rooms and grabbed their bags. In a matter of seconds, the girls all returned to the living room handing their small backpacks to their manager.

“Two minutes girls. I’ll see you all in the van. Yunjin, have a safe holiday. And you, be smart please.”

Taking a glance at Yunjin, you saw a small blush appear on her face that matched your own. Standing up, you went over to their manager and shook his hand.

“Have a good night.”

Releasing your hand from his grip, you suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around you.

“Goodnight Oppa. I hope to see you more one day.”

“I hope so too Manchae. Take care.”

Saying your farewells to almost everyone else, Sakura walks in front of you and extends her hand. Shaking it, Sakura then gives you a smile and whispers at you.

“Make her smile. Ok?”

“Always. Safe travels.”

Waving goodbye, Sakura walked out of the living room leaving just you and Yunjin standing there. Deciding to take the initiative, You walked back over to the couch and grabbed the backpack you had placed down. As your left hand opened the bag, your right hand pulled out a green box you had wrapped up.

Facing your best friend once more, your feet took a few steps towards her until you were just a few inches away.

“Merry Christmas Jen. I-I hope you like it.”

Raising her hands, your best friend then took the box from your hands and sat down on the couch. A look of excitement was on her face as her hands ripped open the wrapping from the box. With the cardboard box now free, Yunjin then took the lid off and looked inside.

Her face changed from one of excitement to one of confusion as she pulled out a large book. Despite being confused about what was in her hands, Yunjin pulled open the cover of the book. Just like other times in the day, her eyes shot open but there was quickly a mix of tears added.

“A-Are these?”

“Yeah. These are all the letters you sent me over the years. I kept every single one and put them all in there.”

Yunjin proceeded to flip through the pages as tears rolled down her cheeks. Despite her scrolling through, her hand went back to the first page.

“The first letter. I was so curious about your life then. Talking to someone from another state sounded amazing to me. I’m sorry if I annoyed you back then.”

“Hey. Don’t ever apologize. I was a salty little kid who didn’t want to do his work. Your excitement about the project made me write to you. Thank you for just being you.”

As you finished those words, Yunjin jumped into your arms and took you in an embrace. The action was sudden but her warmth in your arms felt just perfect. As your nose laid next to her hair, the smell of lavender filled your nostrils and then your senses. You could have kept smelling her but much to your dismay, Yunjin pulled back and ran away.

You were about to stand up and follow until she looked back at you.

“WAIT HERE!”

With those words said, Yunjin ran back towards her room. After a few agonizing seconds wondering if you did something wrong, you heard the same footsteps as before come towards you. The tall idol had returned with a wooden box. Placing it in front of you, Yunjin opened the lid showing several small letters.

“You aren’t the only one who kept all the letters. I have every single one too Oppa.”

Almost like a routine, a smile filled your face looking through the box. It was nostalgic seeing all of the things you wrote before to her.

“Thank you, Jen.”

“Oppa. Can you call me Yunjin a little more often? I don’t mind Jen either but I was just wondering.”

“Oh. Of course, I can. I’m sorry about that. I guess I’m just really used to calling you, Jen.”

“No no. It’s fine. I guess it is an adjustment since you-“

Yunjin was silent, just looking at the ground.

“Since I didn’t know you were Lesserafim Yunjin?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Oppa. I-I just, I wanted to- I don’t know what to say. Are you mad?”

Silence filled the room as you just looked into Yunjin’s eyes. You could tell she was nervous.

“I-I’m not mad at you per se. Look Yunjin, I’m not happy you didn’t tell me because I should have been there for you when you needed me. You probably had to lie to me about your struggles. I-I wanted to be there for you. I want to be there for you.”

With a sigh, you grabbed Yunjin’s hand and held it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

After a few seconds of waiting, the girl opened her mouth.

“At first, I wasn’t sure I would debut. The first time was when I went on produce 48. I wanted to surprise you if I passed. I thought it would help excite you more. Then I lost. I was ashamed that I failed so I decided I wouldn't tell you.”

“You still should have told me. I should have been there for you.”

“I’m sorry Oppa.”

“What about when you debuted? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“W-When I debuted. It was the joy of my life. The music video came out and I called you. I didn’t get to say anything as you were talking about Kkura unnie in the music video.”

“Well, I was a big Iz*one fan. I was excited to see her and Chaewon debut again. I’m sorry about that but why would that stop you from telling me?”

There was some hesitation in Yunjin’s look. Her words began to fumble out of her mouth nervously.

“I promise I won’t get mad, Yunjin. Just, talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, Yunjin tightened her hold on your hand.

“I-I was nervous they would take you from me.”

“Take me?”

“Y-You always talked about how Sakura was so pretty, how Chaewon had an amazing voice. If I introduced you to them, there would be a chance you would ask me to introduce you. I wouldn't be able to say no to you so I would do it. You are an amazing person. I could see the girls loving you. This was their first time meeting you and they did. I-I didn’t want to lose you and now that you know I lied I still might.”

Hearing those words from her broke your heart. Raising your left hand, your fingers began to caress her cheek.

“How could you ever lose me? I-I love you Yunjin.”

Those four words caused the idol's eyes to nearly pop out of her head.

“I know it sounds stupid but you were there for me all the time and the more we spent time talking and such, the more I fell for this dorky girl from New York.”

Yunjin is just silent. Now you’re scared you freaked her out so you begin to let go of her hand. In a sudden movement, Yunjin tightened her hold on your hand and began to tear up once more.

“I-I love you too Oppa. That’s why I didn’t want them to take you from me.”

Your heart began to pump rapidly as you heard her say it back. As you both stared into each other's eyes you began to feel an attraction to her. Your lips felt drawn to hers and she must have felt the same as you both began to get closer and closer. With each inch you got closer, the more you felt your heart pump.

Closing your eyes, your left hand grabbed her shoulder and finally pulled her in for the kiss. It’s quick, a little peck but your first kiss with Yunjin. Opening your eyes, you are met with the girl you love and a grin on her face.”

“Please tell me you're gonna kiss me Better than that?”

With a new challenge issued, you grabbed Yunjin and laid her down on the couch. Getting on top of her, you dipped your head back down and put your lips back on hers. Unlike before, your lips stayed attached to hers for a few seconds. As you felt Yunjin kiss you back, your tongue began to push forward.

Seeing that you want access, Yunjin opened her mouth and let your tongue in. The idol gave you no resistance as your tongue began to swirl in her mouth. The subtle state of watermelon could be felt as your tongue asserted its dominance.

Moving your hands from Yunjin’s face, your fingers began to move down her shoulders, then to her breast. Feeling the round-clothed surface, your finger tightened its hold on her mound. Each squeeze you gave to her clothed breast received a small gasp from your friend.

Pulling back from the kiss, you finally were brought back to your senses.

“Wait Yunjin. Is this ok?”

“More than ok Oppa. Make love to your girlfriend please.”

Raising her upper body, Yunjin grabbed the ends of her sweater and pulled it over her head. As her hat and sweater came off, your eyes were blessed but the sight of your new girlfriend in a white lacy bra.

Your mouth began to water at the amazing sight, and a smirk was Present on Yunjin’s face. That smirk broke your trance, causing you to reach for the back of her bra and unhook it. Your girlfriend's breasts were not as big as other girls but it was perfect for you. She was perfect.

With a sudden movement, your head dipped down a bit and latched onto her nipple. Starting with small sucks, your tongue began to swirl around just as it did in her mouth. As you took the girl In an embrace, your fingertips moved down to her long legs. Feeling the smoothness of her white skin along your fingertips nearly distracted you from her breast.

Pulling your head off her right boob, Yunjin pulled your mouth to her left nipple and latched you back on. Each suck you have made your dick twitch in your pants. The sudden sensation of a hand on your rod surprised you. Yanking your mouth off of Yunjin’s erect nipple, you’re faced with your girlfriend giggling.

“Eager aren’t we Oppa? Well, I am too.”

Hopping out of your arms, your girlfriend dropped to her knees and looked up at you.

“Let's get you ready to fuck me.”

Unhooking your belt, Yunjin undid your pants and yanked them down in one swoop. As your dick was free, it managed to hit Yunjin in her face. Wrapping her hand around it, your girlfriend began to stroke your length slowly. A bit of Precum leaked from your tip with those actions. Raising her left hand, her index finger began to circle the top of your tip, collecting the leaking semen.

“F-Fuck Yunjin. Such a good girl.”

Bringing her finger to her mouth, Yunjin began to lick the fluid off her fingers.

“I’ve dreamed of this before Oppa. I’m done waiting.”

Bringing her face to your cock, Yunjin’s tongue began to give your tip a few licks. Once done with her teasing, your girlfriend wrapped her lips around your length. You expected her to start slowly but the sudden constricting feeling around your rod made your legs jolt.

Raising her head, Yunjin began to bob her head rapidly on your length. Your hand instinctively went for her head as you formed it into a makeshift ponytail. Each movement from your girl caused you to push her down a little deeper.

With one final push, Yunjin had her throat around your rod. Holding her down, Yunjin’s nose began to expand widely as she took in air. After a few seconds, your girlfriend began to tap on your leg rapidly. Letting go, Yunjin swooped up gasping for air.

“Fuck Oppa. I guess you like it rough.”

Grabbing your girlfriend’s arms, you threw her on top of the couch. Raising her waist, Yunjin reached back and lowered the zipper on her skirt. Helping her, you lowered her skirt to the ground. The white lacy bra from earlier had a matching pair of panties that covered your prize.

Lowering your head, your nose began to take in the smell of lavender coming off her thighs. Puckering your lips, you began to pepper her thighs with kisses. Each smooch on her upper leg decreased at height as you got lower and lower. Closer to her snatch, your kisses began to get near her folds.

Spreading open her legs, Your tongue came out of your mouth and extended over her folds. Giving it a few small flicks, Yunjin began to gasp and shudder at the contact. Wrapping your arms around her thighs, you brought your fingers toward her lips and spread them open.

Finding her little nub, your tongue began to attack it with a constant barrage of licks. The young idol began to jolt around in your legs as you continued to lick her clit. Unwrapping your arms from Yunjin’s legs, you brought your hands straight and pinned her folds once more with your left hand.

With her pussy now open, your right hand brought your index and middle finger to her folds and pushed in. With a bit of resistance, your finger went all the way in and stood there for a second. Pulling your finger back out, the digit moved in and out of her snatch.

“T-That’s it, Oppa. Just a little more and I’m ready.”

Speeding the movements from your fingers and tongue, Yunjin then grabbed your hair and pulled you in deeper. Yunjin must have needed this as her yells began to fill the room. The jumps from her body became wild and erratic as a rush of fluids hit your mouth.

Drinking as much as you can, some of the fluids ended up on other parts of your face. Once Yunjin calmed down, her chest moved up and down as she took in as much air as possible. Raising your upper body, Yunjin did the same and kissed you suddenly.

After a few seconds, your girlfriend pulled back from the kiss and smiled.

“D-Damn I taste good.”

“You came fast. I’m guessing you were a bit needy.”

With a nod, Yunjin grabbed your hips and lined your cock with her folds. Teasing her snatch, Yunjin wrapped her arms around her body and pulled your face towards her neck.

“Come on Oppa. Shove that c-“

Your girlfriend didn’t even get to finish her sentence as you pushed your length into her pussy. The constricting feeling from her throat couldn’t even compare to how tight her pussy was. Taking a few seconds to breathe, You then pulled your hips back till only your tip was in her.

Kissing Yunjin’s neck, your ass suddenly felt a slap as you plunged back into her walls. The moan that left your girlfriend’s mouth was mixed with a giggle as she talked in your ear.

“Fuck my pussy Oppa. This is years of pent-up emotions. Let them out.”

Your left hand went down to her waist as you began to enter and exit her pussy. Before you were going to go a bit more softly but the words Yunjin said to you got your emotions feeling wild. The speed at which you piston her cavern increases. Her moans and grunts echoed in your ears as your pants began to come out.

“Fuck. You are so hot, Yunjin. I love you.”

“I love you too Oppa.”

Lowering your hand to her left breast, you began to take handfuls of her mound. Bringing your fingers to her nipple, you began to squeeze on them. The extra stimulation caused her walls to begin to tighten around your length. Spinning around, you sat down on the couch and placed Yunjin on top of you. Taking this opportunity, your girlfriend began to grind her hips on you while you helped her bounce.

The tight feeling from her walls returns as the grinding and bouncing speed up. With all the energy you have left, you helped Yunjin grind on your cock. The grinding helped stimulate her clit as the young idol began to pant harder and harder.

“I-Oppa I’m gonna cum!”

Continuing with the speed, the young idol began to jump around in your hold. Her fluids began to leak down your rod as she came. Giving her face small kisses, your girlfriend began to come down from her high and laid down on your body.

“You are so pretty, sweetie.”

“T-Thank you Oppa. You haven’t cummed yet. Where do you want to? My body is yours.”

“A-Anywhere?”

“Yes. Anywhere Oppa. Why don’t I just decide for you?”

With a smirk, Yunjin began to hop on your length once more. The rapid speed at which she fucked you returned. Taking hold of her waist once more, you helped Yunjin move up and down on your length. As her body moved back a bit, you couldn’t help but look down at Yunjin’s toned abs.

“Oh. Do you like my abs Oppa? I know they aren’t as good as Zuha’s but I work hard on them.”

“I love them, sweetie.”

Yunjin then at that moment flexed her muscles showing you a better view of her abs. The sight was amazing but you were distracted by the flexing of her vaginal muscles.

“F-Fuck. Do that again!”

Seeing you enjoy the flexing of her muscles, Yunjin flexed them once more. Repeating this action as you rammed your length into her, your length began to twitch more and more from the constricting feeling.

“Shit I’m gonna cum Yunjin.”

“C-Cum in my pussy oppa. I’m safe.”

Those words were all you needed to hear as you shoved your length into her cavern one final time. With each jolt of your legs, a shot of semen left your cock. Yunjin’s walls got painted white in that instant. It could have been seven or seventy shots of cum you shot in her but after a while, you came back to your senses. Panting for air, Yunjin pulled your lips towards hers and kissed you aggressively.

Your girlfriend's lips left your mouth after a couple of seconds. Smiling at Yunjin, the young idol gave you one back.

“So this was quite a meeting for best friends.”

“Meeting between a new couple you mean but yes. I just can’t believe we finally met.”

“Me neither. I’m glad I finally have you in my arms, Sweetie.”

“I love that nickname. Might be stereotypical but I think honey fits you perfectly. I’m sorry for lying. No more of that.”

“Good. I also better see your face in video calls now. And talk to me about any of your troubles. Ok?”

“I promise I will.”

Picking up Yunjin, you began to walk towards the hallway she came from earlier in the day.

“The door at the end of the hall.”

Following your girlfriend’s instructions, you arrived at the door that was luckily already open. Pushing it open, you found a single bed in the corner of the room and walked toward it. Laying Yunjin on the bed. You followed behind her and got in the sheets. The sudden sound of a bell got both of your attention.

Finding the source, you saw it was a little clock that showed it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas Yunjin.”

“Merry Christmas Porter.”

With one final kiss on her lips, the two of you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The next day

Walking out of the complex, you saw a car pull up and park in front of the building. Both doors opened as two familiar figures walked over.

“MOM, DAD!”

“Yunjin, how are you my little one?”

“I’m ok dad. I-I would like to introduce you both to Porter. My boyfriend.”

“H-Hello. I’m Porter.”

Yunjin’s father walked up to you and glared at you. Your heart began to race until the man smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Porter. Treat my daughter well please.”

Your girlfriend’s mother then walked up to you and hugged you just as her father did.

“I’m so glad you finally met.”

Pulling back from the hug, Mrs. Huh looked at her daughter and smiled.

“Did you enjoy your gift dear?”

“Yes mother. Thank you very much. I was wondering, C-Could Oppa come to the family dinner?”

You were wondering what the response would be, but with a quick nod and smile, you were happy. Taking hold of Yunjin’s hand you all made your way into the car and set off for the dinner.

After all this time you were finally with your penmate, the girl of your dreams. Who would have ever thought one letter would lead to a relationship like this?

It might be hard with the long distance but you are gonna find a way to make it work.

A/n 2- Thanks for reading. I am going to try to get one last quckie out this year but if I don't, then thank you for a great year. As always sorry for typos and see you next time

#smut #kpopsmut #lesserafimsmut #yunjinsmut

1K notes · View notes

saulocept · 1 year

Text

you know i’m such a fool for you

pairing: ominis gaunt/reader

rating: g

summary: Sometimes, four simple words can mean the world. You didn’t know it then, don’t know it even now. But maybe it’s still not too late to change your mind.

background notes: took a lot of liberties w this so everything’s all vague and messy - some canon things are alluded to, but no explicit spoilers? full tags include: implied love triangles, implied sebastian sallow/reader. for a more detailed explanation, read the ending notes.

ending notes: originally this was going to be a poly fic - it kinda still is depending on how you interpret the ending, but it could also be read as a resolution to an alluded love triangle. i still however want that poly so i might write a companion part for this, rather than a direct sequel. or you know. just a new thing but w poly still (more established, less establishing). if you agree w me and have some ideas for prompts, head onto my inbox!

The night is quiet, the skies bright with countless stars. It’s almost a strange sight, certainly different from what you’re used to, and it’s odd – you feel odd. You’ve never been this at peace before, or calm. It’s a strange sensation to feel, especially when you’re used to always being on high alert, waiting for the next bad thing to happen, for the next tragedy to drop, afraid that every smidge of happiness will be quickly taken away.

You’re not used to it, not really, but as you glance around your surroundings: the moon on the horizon, close enough that you could almost reach out and touch it, you think you might be wrong for once. It’s really over now, you think. A moment of peace, even if it might not always last. Still, the thought of it is a huge weight off your shoulders and you feel as if you can finally breathe, relax.

You don’t know why you’re here, not really. All you know was that you couldn’t sleep and you felt the need to wander, take your mind off things. The next thing you know, you’re already outside the academy grounds, visiting a place you’ve frequented before, though not anymore.

As far as everyone’s concerned, it’s an abandoned building, off-limits to everyone, especially students. There were even rumors of a ghost lurking around at one point, though in all the times you’ve been here, you’ve never encountered one. Most likely a scare tactic, you suppose, to keep the students from being too curious, nosy. It worked well enough, anyway, and in your favor too; in a matter of months, this has become your most favorite place, the only thing you could call yours.

Home, you think, if home could be anywhere in the world right now. Still, it hasn’t been home for a while now, not after everything that’s happened. There’s too much memory in here, too much feeling, lingering around the corners like a miasma. The things you’ve never said out loud, things you wish you could change. If you could take it all back and redo it all over it again, would you do it?

But you’re not here to dwell on past regrets. Absently, you wander around the place, trying to see what’s changed, if anything even has. It looks just like it always did, if not a little older, more… abandoned. There’s rust everywhere now, spots of them scattered here and there, looking too much like dried blood that it makes you nervous. You shove your hands in your pockets, trying to find what little warmth you could in this place, and it works but not nearly enough.

Still, you press on, reconnecting what you know of the past to what you’re seeing now in the present. Ever since you’ve stopped visiting, there seems not to be any fresh activity. You snort, then shake your head at the thought. What would you expect? You’re only one of the few people who know about this place, and if there’s one thing you’re absolutely certain of, it’s that none of them would be inclined to share. You’d each considered this place sacred once, sacrosanct, and maybe there’s something of that sacredness still lingering somewhere.

A piece of a memory you’re still reluctant to let go of just yet. Something that binds you still, even if you’re no longer inseparable. You wander around the place, glancing here and there, trying not to get lost too much in memories, nostalgia. Once upon a time, it wouldn’t have just been you doing the wandering, but it’s all in the past now, and you’re all alone. Not that it matters. You’d made your choice then, and it’s time to live with it now.

As it turns out, you’re not exactly all alone. There’s a figure in the corner, standing against the railing, watching the stars or maybe just lost in thoughts, reminiscing. You can’t really tell from a distance, and from where you stand, it’s not easy to see who it is. Their face is cloaked in shadows, almost hidden from view.

All you can make out is that they’re taller, not quite familiar. He’s wearing a robe unlike you, so at the very least, it means that he’s a student. Unfortunately, there are as many students in the academy as there are stars in the sky. You square your shoulders as you slowly walk over to where they are, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to bring your wand.

“Hey,” the figure says as soon as you’re close enough. Familiar, you think, unmistakable, though it takes you a moment to match the name.

“Ominis,” you say, coming to stand beside him. You lean against the railing, careful to keep some distance between you, because as close as you were with him once, you’re not those people anymore. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe you’re the only one who’s changed. “How’d you know it’s me?”

“Your footsteps.” The corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “You haven’t changed at all, you know.”

“Haven’t I?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from him to stare at the sky above you: bright, twinkling with stars, infinite with every possibility. You don’t feel the same at all. You never have. Some days, you look at a mirror and you don’t even recognize yourself. Maybe there’s never an old you somewhere. Maybe all you’ve got are his memories of you and nothing else.

“Maybe you have,” he replies, conceding. From the corners of your eyes, you catch him drumming his fingers against the railing, humming under his breath as he thinks. “But there’s still the old you in there somewhere.”

“And you can tell how?” you can’t help the bite in your voice, the sharpness. It comes out automatically, some kind of reflex, and you mentally curse yourself because you’re not here to fight, to ruin things between you once again. Still, you’re not sure if you’re here to patch things up.

He seems unfazed by your sudden shift in tone. “Because I know you,” he replies, says the words like they’re the most obvious thing in the world. The only thing. Then, very quietly, he adds: “Like the back of my hand.”

Do you, is what you want to ask him, because it’s true. Does he still know you after everything you’ve done? Would he still want to? But instead, you hum under your breath, let it go, nodding in agreement because it’s easier and you don’t have to pretend. Or deal with the consequences, the weight of all the things unsaid. Are you even ready to hear his answer?

Instead, you change the subject: “What are you doing here?”

“To think,” he replies with a hum. He’s quiet for a second, thoughtful. “I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.”

“You can tell me all about it,” you say, the words spilling out of you instinctive and automatic. A learned reflex, dug up from a past you’ve already long left behind, buried in an attempt to forget. Once upon a time, it’s the first thing you’ll say. This line of conversation is familiar – a scene acted out so many times it’s embedded in you, impossible to forget. You almost expect him to play along with it, complaining like he used to when you were both still younger, stupid. More naïve.

“Like old times, huh?” he jokes, laughing just a little. There’s a tiny smile playing about the corners of his lips, but then he shakes his head, looks away, the smile fading, disappearing. He huffs out a quiet breath, almost like a sigh, then tilts his head skyward, quiet for the longest time. Briefly, you wonder if he could see the beauty of the sky, could sense how things seem to have changed. If he could sense that same changes in you. “It’s nothing.”

If you were still the old you, it would’ve been easy to coax the answers out of him, get him to spill the truth. You’d always had a way with him, after all, as he’d told you once. But you’re not that person anymore. You haven’t been for a long time. You shrug, turn away from him. You don’t miss the disappointed look he gives you, sharp as a dagger to the heart. “If you say so.”

It's getting late now, and neither of you have said anything else. Or made an excuse to leave. It feels odd, standing here beside him, basking in the silence, that gentle atmosphere you’ve almost forgot until now. You’ve been expecting conversations, accusations, an argument or two – perhaps even a fight, or something close to it. What you’re not expecting, however, is the complete silence between you: natural, comfortable, as though this were in the past, where everything’s perfect, where nothing bad has happened just yet.

There’s a part of you that wishes he’d demand you for answers. Or get angry. It’s more believable, anyway, and you’d know how to deal with him then. You’ve spent nights tossing and turning in your sleep, dreaming about this moment, wondering what he’d say to you when you see each other again.

There’s a thousand different ways this meeting could go. You’ve played out the scenarios, conjured the possibilities, each one slightly different. This isn’t on any of them. With a frown, you watch him from the corners of your eyes, keeping yourself alert for any changes. He looks like he always has, that same face you see in your dreams, only older, slightly different. And he’s smiling, too: the kind of smile that used to make your heart flutter because it’s pretty, it’s serene – it’s all for you.

You’re not expecting that. He looks content, genuinely so, and for a second, it feels like you’re back in the past again, spending time with him because you’re friends, because you want to, because it’s what friends do, and it hurts. He shouldn’t be happy, or content, especially not with you. Not with everything you’ve done. And yet he is, and it only serves to make you more guilty.

You turn your head, stare at him. He’s not stupid, you know, and yet it’s odd that he hasn’t breathed a word about your past. What you did. What you said. Why you fought. You figure that it’d come up between you sooner or later, but he hasn’t yet. Has he truly forgot? Or is he trying to get you to lower your guard, be the first to give in? You can’t tell, and it’s at this moment that you wish there’s a spell to allow you to read his mind.

“What is it?” he asks, turns his head in your direction. “You look like you want to say something.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ve been staring at me since earlier,” he shoots back. When you still don’t say anything, he frowns, continues. “And I can tell when you’re lying, you know. We wouldn’t be friends if I don’t know you like the back of my hand.”

His voice has grown softer, fonder, and there’s that phrase again, the one you’re beginning to hate with a passion because it isn’t true, and it hasn’t been for a long time.

You purse your lips together, stare at him blankly. Your voice is quiet now, barely audible even in the silence. “Do you?”

He gives you a smile, though it’s more bittersweet than anything. “Don’t I?”

You shake your head, breathe out a sigh, looking away from him. It’s no use starting an argument. You don’t even know why you’re being like this: prickly and combative, but you suppose you’ve got so used to it that you find it hard to be anything else. It’s always easier like this, after all. “I’m sorry,” you say, and the words feel strange on your tongue, almost foreign. “I don’t want to argue.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” he hums. He sounds almost amused. “Arguing?”

“No,” you say, and then frown. It’s true enough, isn’t it? You’re not arguing and yet you’re not conversing either, because having a conversation means addressing the elephant in the room – you. How you still haven’t apologized to him before: for betraying him, breaking his heart. Choosing someone else, and finally, the worst sin of all: siding against him. How you haven’t reached out to him after all that, and how you probably never will if things had gone your way.

Since when did you change into someone who doesn’t know how to apologize? Someone who couldn’t acknowledge their own mistakes, or the fact that they hurt the only few people who loved them?

It’d be better if he’d just called you out on it, demanded it from you. Apologies, answers. Something that would’ve made him understand you better. Or perhaps even revenge, just to get back at you for all you’d put him through. It’d be easier, you’re sure of it. It’ll be what you deserve.

But he’s quiet, still not saying anything, and that alone already feels like a trap. You give him a sideways glance, catching the smile on his lips: soft, warm. Familiar. This close, he looks almost like an angel – a saint, someone who could give you the absolution you want, the forgiveness you needed. (There’s a voice in the back of your head, asking you the right question: do you even deserve it?)

You close your eyes, suck in a deep breath. “Ominis, I—”

He stops you quickly, cuts you off before the words could even leave your lips. “I know.”

You stare at him, blinking a few times. You can’t keep the surprise out of your voice, or that hint of confusion, growing by the second. “Do you?”

“Of course,” he says, and here, his voice has grown softer again, warmer. There’s a familiar ache in your chest, a recognizable flutter in the pit of your stomach. Like in the past, you think. But you’re not in there now; you’re here in the present, watching as he slowly reaches for you, fumbling for your hand in the dark, takes it in his. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You don’t say anything to that, because you aren’t sure how true it is anymore. Sure, you’d been friends once, perhaps even more at one point, but it’s all in the past now, isn’t it? Now you’re not even sure where you stand with him, or where he’s going with this.

But he’s relentless, refusing to give up. You don’t stop him, don’t push him away even as he moves a little, inching ever closer to you – not close enough to overwhelm, but still enough that you could feel him beside you: a steady presence, real and solid and warm. “And I told you before, didn’t I?”

It’s a weird feeling, letting him hold your hand, allowing him to be this close. Not exactly in a bad way, you think – just odd, mostly because you’re just not used to it anymore. Still, you can’t deny the comfort this little gesture brings you. Even now, this part of you still hasn’t changed. Maybe he’d been wrong all along. Maybe he’s the one who has a way with you, after all. You eye him curiously, licking your lips before you speak. “Told me what?”

When he realizes you’re not pulling away, he turns to give you a smile, squeezes your hand once: careful, gentle, like he’s afraid you’re going to walk away if he does anything too much, too fast. But still, the warmth is there, buried beneath everything he wishes to say but can’t. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, breathless like he’s revealing a secret, some form of weakness – a thing reserved only for you. “That I know you like the back of my hand.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, but maybe you don’t need to. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, then look up, staring at him for a few more moments, trying to read through his face, his expression, see if he’s lying.

He doesn’t seem like he is. He’s still smiling, though it doesn’t seem fake or forced. He looks content. Satisfied. As though he’s just glad to be here with you again: talking, standing together. Holding your hand. It’s nice, even if you don’t have the courage to admit it just yet.

Hesitantly, you squeeze back, and you’re rewarded by the sight of his smile widening just a little, his eyes crinkling in a way that awakens every single emotion you’ve long since buried. You smile back at him even if he can’t see it, feeling like you can finally breathe again.

#renwrites #ominis gaunt x reader

398 notes · View notes

katyawriteswhump · 5 months

Text

Steddie holiday drabble: Dirty Little Secret

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 11 prompt, Royal AU (also boarding school AU--whoops!)

When Steve is sent to school in the UK, he hates everything about it. Apart from the hot guy who lurks in the shadows and seems to get away with anything he likes…

Rating: T

CW: corporal punishment, bullying, cultural prejudices, swearing. Tags: hurt/comfort, whump, fluff. WC: 979

***

From the moment Steve arrived at that creepy castle-come-college, he couldn’t do anything right.

“You’re using the wrong spoon, Harrington,” sneered some stuck-up idiot, at Steve’s first mealtime in the vast, mediaeval-style hall.

“He wouldn’t know,” jeered another. “Americans scoff cow-pie with their fingers.”

“Hilarious,” snarked Steve. “If I’m using the wrong spoon, how come you’re the one who’s drooled soup down their tie?”

A shout of “Touché!” broke the loaded silence.

Steve spotted the shouter sitting alone on an otherwise empty table. He flashed Steve a grin which was… Woah! Not actively hostile? And kinda cute.

The kid beside Steve tugged his hair: “Has nobody invented scissors on your side of the pond? Matron’s going to scalp you, mark my word.”

“He’s got longer hair than me.” Steve pointed to the boy sitting alone.

“He’s not an ignorant little yank with no manners.”

“Oh, sod off.” Steve had mastered some of the lingo.

In the dorm later, somebody stole Steve’s blankets from his bed. After a night shivering, he wore the wrong sneakers—sorry, trainers!—to gym class.

The teacher didn’t let him change into boots. Steve slipped endlessly on the muddy rugby field. The only rule he fathomed was that it was fine for any bastard to dump their butt on his face. Afterwards, the teacher summoned Steve to his office.

Steve mumbled: “What’ve I done now?”

Seriously, this son-of-bitch should worship Steve! If he had the right kit—and knew the rules—he bet he could whip some serious rugby ass.

“Hold out your hand.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be insolent. Do it. Palm downward.”

Steve obeyed, flexing his fingers apprehensively. The teacher produced a wooden cane. Steve’s blood jumped. “No, no, no, no. I’ll watch my mouth. Wear the right shit… uh, kit. Please!”

“You’ve earned five. One more word, it’ll be ten. On your rear.”

Steve battled his panic, fretted his lip. The cane came lashing down, razing a fiery trail across his hand. He smothered a whimper, swallowed bile. By the fifth strike, his knees had turned to jello. His hand was red, his knuckles puffy with one split.

“You’re dismissed, Harrington.”

He drifted mindlessly through the showers, got dressed, wandered out, cradling his hand. Totally lost, he encountered his hated dining companions:

“His socks are falling down! He’s so stupid, he can’t hook his suspenders.”

Steve was terrified of losing his shit, giving these dickheads the triumph of seeing how badly he was hurting, how horribly alone he felt. So…

Steve shoved the lead bully, who crashed onto their butt. “What moron’s wear sock suspenders? Screw the lot of you!”

Steve could’ve handled any one of them; with wrecked knuckles, though, no way could he handle six. He wound up curled in a ball, enduring a brutal kicking. As the blows kept coming, he sank beyond wretched, losing his fight against furious tears. A shout interrupted: “Hey, scumbags—scoot! NOW!”

The kicking stopped. Steve curled even tighter. Everything hurt, his head pounded, and he tasted blood. A gentle touch on his shoulder made him flinch: “Hey, are you alright?”

Steve swiped his damp cheekbones, peeped up. His rescuer was the boy who dined alone, with the cute smile and long, unruly hair. Up close, his brown eyes were mesmerising… and kind.

“Come on, you.”

Dazed, Steve let the other boy help him up. He took him to the matron, who seemed oddly nervous at their arrival. Steve perched on the edge of a bed, while his knuckles were bandaged, his other wounds tended. The other boy—Steve still didn’t know his name—held ice to Steve’s swollen brow till Steve’s uninjured hand stopped trembling enough to hold it himself.

“You can go, Matron,” said the boy. She obeyed. With a curtsy! These Brits sure were odd. Steve was still hurting badly, still furious at the whole world. Yet, now they were alone, he longed to throw his arms around this other boy and sob shamelessly. He was so mixed up.

“Steven Harrington, right? The US envoy’s son?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Eddie. Can I call you Steve? The surname crap makes us sound like a load of wankers. Which, let’s face it, most kids in this dump are.”

“No shit.” Steve chuckled, which made his face ache.

“Besides, it’s hopeless for me.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Nobody dares say it.” Eddie leaned closer and his adorable grin spread slowly. “I’m the illegitimate son of the Duke of Cumbria.”

“He’s a prince! So you’re—”

“A dirty royal secret.” Eddie jokily pressed a finger to his lips, which Steve couldn’t stop staring at. Steve’s heart hammered like he’d met the Stones or the Beatles. Though, Eddie was the opposite of famous: “This dustbin has hid little secrets like me for centuries. I still get MI5 protection, if needed, and… nobody dares lay a finger on me. Or my chums. Not that I have any, because—”

“—they’re all complete wankers?”

“You’re fluent already, Stevie.” Stevie? Steve blushed and looked away. Eddie tenderly cupped Steve’s chin and turned his face back, tugging a slight smile from Steve, in defiance of his split lip. Eddie grinned all the harder.

The ‘dirty secret’ didn’t just get his own table. He got his own spacious dorm room. Steve moved his stuff in two days later, to find Eddie in a different mode—twitchy and bashful, endlessly fiddling with his hands. “Thanks,” murmured Eddie, as if Steve had done him the favour.

“Woah. That’s my line, right?”

“No. Look, I need to get this out.” Eddie paced, folded his arms. Unfolded them again. “I’m gay, Steve. And I like you. I’m not going to press myself on you or anything, but… It’s okay to have second thoughts. I can arrange for you to have a separate room, if you prefer.”

Steve shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “No sweat, Eds.”

He only hoped it wouldn’t be too long before his almost-prince stole a kiss.

***

Thanks for reading :)

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fanfic

42 notes · View notes

tellmealovestory · 1 year

Text

Kiss Me - Chapter 3

Summary: 4 times you and Eddie kissed and it meant nothing and the 1 time you kissed and it meant everything.

Warnings: More awkwardness between them, brief mention of drug use, light drug use, tiny bit of angst if you squint really hard - I think that's everything for this one.

Masterlist

Fat raindrops slap against the side and roof of Eddie’s trailer offering you a permanent soundtrack to your activities. The day was meant to be for studying, but after five minutes you both gave up on that plan claiming neither of you could concentrate and you could always do it tomorrow.

Instead you both opt to work on your own things while still hanging out together. Eddie alternates between learning a new song on his guitar and working on a new Dungeons and Dragons campaign he swears will blow the Hellfire Club out of the water and you doodle in notebooks while silently trying to figure out how to ask for his help.

A crack of thunder interrupts the quiet and you flinch at the unexpected loudness. Despite the startle you’ve always loved storms from the way the air smells like rain before and after to the unpredictability of what could happen. Storms have always been your own little lullaby and this should be the perfect soundtrack to help calm and lull you into sleep, but not even this is working.

Time seems to flow differently when it’s spent at Eddie’s and before you know it he’s glancing at his clock and swearing beneath his breath as time inches closer to having to say goodbye for the night.

“Guess I should get you home before your parents ban you from seeing me,” he says lightly, intending for it to be a joke, but you both know there’s a dark truth lurking underneath his words.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds and when you feel his eyes boring into your skull you offer a shrug of your shoulders and continue doodling in your notebook that’s meant for homework.

“Wow,” Eddie starts slowly, dragging out the syllables until he sees the tiniest of smiles crack on your face. “You really are turning into a rebel from hanging out with me if you’re not worried about missing your curfew. Gotta say I’m impressed.”

You stick your tongue out at him childishly before beginning to pack your stuff up. He hunts around the mess he calls a room for the keys to his van and while he busies himself with that task you swallow the growing lump in your throat and search for the courage to ask him for what you want.

“Hey, Eddie?” He hums in response, an acknowledgement that he heard as he continues to rummage through his jeans pocket where he swore he stuffed those stupid keys. “Can I um ask you for a favor?”

At the timidness in your voice and the way you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot and refusing to meet his eyes he knows it must be important. You’re not one to ask for things so he gives up on finding his keys and sits on the edge of his bed. “Go for it,” he says, offering you his full attention.

It’s difficult to look at him or even in his general direction so you look everywhere else. Out the window watching how lightning fills the sky and the few trees in the trailer park sway from the rain and heavy wind. Around his room, the messy piles of clothes perched on the end of his bed to his guitar leaning up against his nightstand delicately, the one thing he takes care of more than anything else in here.

Your eyes slide over to that infamous black lunch box containing various drugs. You’ve gotten high with him a few times, but it was never really your thing and you’ve never once asked him for anything else. Until now.

“Um… do you think… well I…”

“Spit it out, princess,” he says lightly. He leans his palms back on the bed, eyes darting to your face where he catches you staring at the lunch box. Recognition dawns and he gives a slow nod, but still, he waits for you to say what you need.

“It’s just…” you start before breaking off and scrunching your eyebrows together.

Huffing a sigh you hate that the thought of asking for help or hell even talking about your feelings is this difficult. Logically, you know it shouldn’t be. He’s your best friend and you should just be able to ask him for help and he should give an answer. Easy peasy. But for whatever reason it’s so much easier when you’re both exchanging witty banter and coming up with new inside jokes than to talk about anything deeper than surface level.

Licking your lips you glance up at the ceiling and let it all out in one quick gust of air that makes it hard for Eddie to hear or even understand what you’re asking for. “With finals coming up I can’t sleep and so um I was wondering if you have something to help me with that? Please?”

When he doesn’t say anything after a few seconds you blurt, “I have money to pay you.” You cringe, but it’s important he knows you’d never not pay him for this when you know he relies on it as income.

He stays silent for another beat and cocks his head to the side. The rain picks up, slapping against the trailer with more venom and you think about taking the words back, telling him it doesn’t matter, but at the same time you need this. Even if it only allows you to sleep for an hour it’s better than nothing.

“Please?” You hate the way your voice cracks. “I never ask you for anything, Eddie.” You also hate how you’re guilting him into helping you when you don’t mean to. Rubbing your eyes you’re about to give up on this, but the bed creaks as he stands up and your heart pounds against your chest as you wait for his answer.

“Yeah, yeah I think I might have something for you,” he murmurs softly, bobbing his head. “You uh wanna talk about what’s going on?”

Scoffing, you scrunch your nose up and give a quick shake of your head no to that idea. You bite down on your tongue so you don’t get snarky and ask him why he thinks you’d want to talk about this now when you rarely talk about things you’re going through.

Staying silent you instead focus on how he said yes. Letting go of a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding you release some of the tension in your shoulders before digging in your back pockets for the cash you brought. You hand him a wad of bills unsure how much he charges for something like this while thanking him again and again.

He counts the money, handing you back a few bills which you slip back into your pocket.

“Wait here.” He takes a few steps toward his bedroom door, but before he can leave you’re stopping him with a soft wait. He pauses and turns back to face you. Another crack of thunder rattles the trailer, but this time you don’t jump, this time your attention is solely focused on him.

“Thank you.”

“You keep thanking me and I’m gonna start charging you for that too,” he teases, earning a soft smile from you. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” He rubs the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side when you continue to stare at him.

You want to contradict him about this not meaning anything, but instead of starting an argument you’d only wind up losing you do something else. Walking towards him until your chests are nearly touching you cup his cheek and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick, bordering on chaste, but when you pull back and step away you notice how he’s staring at your mouth.

The tension grows thick like humidity during summer before Eddie goes back to rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, stay here. I’ll be back in a few seconds.”

You want to ask him where he thinks you’re going to disappear to, but you figure maybe just this once you should keep your sarcasm to yourself.

Instead of heading towards his lunch box where you know he keeps most of his stash he heads into the small kitchen, opening and slamming drawers looking for what you need. He returns a few seconds later with a glass of water and a pill in his open palm. When he extends both to you you don’t hesitate, don’t ask what you’re taking either. Taking a sip of water you gingerly pick up the pill and toss it into your mouth before taking another sip to wash it down.

Silence stretches on and you aren’t sure if you should thank him again or grab your stuff for him to take you home. Eddie glances around his room and clears his throat before saying hesitantly, “You uh can stay here if you want. Less you think your parents would kill me.”

“They’re gone for the weekend.” You’re relieved that you don’t have to leave the comfort of his trailer and be alone while whatever you took works its way through your system. But the feeling of calm doesn’t last for long because you’re soon left wondering where you’re both supposed to sleep.

There’s only one bed.

Sure, there’s a couch in the living room, but you’ve spent enough time sitting on it while watching television to know it’s not comfortable for extended periods of time.

On the same wavelength as you he thinks similar thoughts as his gaze swings to his bed, to you, the floor and then out into the short hallway before looking back at you. Sweeping his hand out he gestures to the bed like the true gentleman he is, bows at the waist and says, “All yours, princess.”

Hesitantly you climb into his bed, laying on your back you scoot as close to the wall as you can get while noting that his sheets smell like him. Resting your head on his lumpy pillow your gaze swings back over to him, standing stiff in the middle of the floor watching you.

“Will you stay with me?” you ask softly, glancing up at him through your lashes. You hate asking him for another favor in the span of only a few minutes, especially one that makes you sound needy and vulnerable.

He doesn’t see it that way because he toes his boots off, kicking them into a pile of what you can’t be sure are clean clothes before he stretches his arms above his head, his shirt rides up a little and you try not to stare at the sliver of exposed skin.

“It’s my humble abode, where else would I stay?” he jokes, grinning at you until you giggle.

“No, dork,” you start, yawning into your hand. “I meant here. With me. Like in the same bed.” You cringe again at how awkward you sound, but Eddie doesn’t comment on it and you appreciate that.

“You sure? You don’t snore or drool do you? Cause ya know I like this shirt and don’t want it to get gross.” Again, with that grin that sets your heart racing and your palms sweating.

You giggle and shake your head no and he takes it as confirmation that all of this is okay. He slides in next to you and the bed dips beneath his weight. His body mirrors yours, both of you on your backs, limbs stiff, staring up at the ceiling almost trying too hard to give one another enough space for fear that if you touch you’ll both combust into dust. The storm rages outside and you both breathe each other in.

“This as weird for you as it is for me?” Eddie teases, turning his head to the side to catch a glimpse of you. You smile and nod your head before murmuring a soft yeah.

You don’t understand why it’s so weird. You’re both adults, both friends used to sharing small spaces together, but somehow being alone in his room, in his bed makes it all feel a little more intimate than either of you are used to.

Restless and not used to sleeping on your back you shift around, murmuring soft apologies anytime your fingers or legs brush up against his. Trying to make yourself as small as possible it’s not working and just as you’re about to suggest maybe he should take you home he speaks up.

“You can uh come a little closer if you want. I don’t have cooties if that’s what you’re worried about. And I uh promise to keep my hands to myself. Less you still don’t want me to of course. I aim to please. Whatever the lady wants she gets.”

Biting down on your lower lip to hold back your giggle you refuse to give him the satisfaction that his immature humor is actually kind of funny to you. You glance over at him and with the lights still on you can make out his features like the way his lips are curved into a playful smile, how his curls are spread out against his lumpy pillow and how his eyes bright and shining with humor and something more despite the late hour and the awkwardness that’s played out for the past few minutes.

Rolling onto your side you sigh, it feels better than laying on your back, but it’s still not right and you feel like Goldilocks, but refuse to ask for another favor.

“Are you sure about the cooties? Because I’ve heard they’re highly contagious,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose before hesitantly moving closer still.

The large gap of space is closing as your legs rest against his and it feels okay, neither of you have burst into dust yet so you grow a little more confident and curl yourself into his side, resting your head on his chest listening to the calming sounds of his heart beating a rhythm into your ear.

Subtly inhaling the smoky scent that has imbedded itself into his clothes you murmur a soft, “this okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie mumbles, swallowing thickly before also growing into his confidence. He’s not used to sharing his bed, not used to having someone willingly want to get as close to him as possible. “It’s good. You’re good.”

Hesitantly, he rests his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer as his calloused fingertips skim up and down your arm making your skin break out into goosebumps.

You sigh in content, snuggling even closer and unlike you did seconds ago he doesn’t have to ask if this is okay because he can already tell it is by the way your breathing has slowed and you let out soft little sighs and continue to snuggle impossibly closer to him.

A soft smile appears on his face and the previous weirdness you both encountered earlier has all but evaporated as his fingers move from stroking your arm to rubbing gentle circles along your lower back. His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead.

The pill he gave you begins to kick in, you think. Your muscles begin to relax, the edges of your vision start to blur making everything a little unfocused, a little fuzzy, but also somehow nice and as your breathing starts to slow and sleep calls your name your last coherent thought is of how nice it feels to be wrapped in Eddie’s embrace.

Tags;

@gaysludge

@eddiesguitarskills

@michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #my writing

87 notes · View notes

mickyaltierisgf · 1 year

Note

OMG

The romickey fic omfg about the detective

Can you please do a part 2? 💗💗💗

It was so good!

missing at sunrise studios ii

poly!ghostface romickey x fem!reader

nsfw! minors pls dni

feel free to @ me in the comments or in my ask box.

You blended in silently, mostly observing the people and activities around you. As far as you could tell, everyone seemed hard at work or was putting on a good show of appearing that way. Roman’s gaze was sharper than your own, scrutinizing every tiny detail of his actors. Mickey was lounging beside him, much more relaxed, and as he caught your eye, he gave you a wink. You shot him a half smile and turned to continue walking among the various cast and crew members milling about. You couldn’t be sure if the killer was here, hiding in plain sight, or lurking in some darkened corner, ready to jump out and claim their next victim. It was entirely possible they weren’t there at all. And if there were two of them, you definitely hoped that was the case.

Right now, you were merely scouting. A flash of your badge got you access to any room or trailer you wanted, and you were going to take advantage of that. You weren’t supposed to be here at all, especially not on official police business, but no one had to know about that. You knocked on one trailer after another and let yourself in, doing a sweep through to see if you couldn’t find anything out of place. Most of these people were likely innocent and, in fact, probably clueless as to just what was even going on, but you had to be thorough. You didn’t particularly like taking such liberties with your power, but if it meant bringing you closer to solving this case, that was ultimately the most important thing.

There was no lunch break, per se; the director called ‘cut’ and decided who could leave, when, and for how long. It was well past after noon when you noticed people starting to disperse. You looked for Roman and Mickey but couldn’t find them in the crowd, and suddenly your heart was pumping hard enough to knock against your chest. You felt for the gun at your hip; your clammy hand felt colder than the dark steel, and the touch barely gave you the comfort it usually did. You walked quickly, passing people and trailers until you found the one labeled "BRIDGER". You didn’t even stop to smile at the "ALTIERI +" you were sure Mickey had tacked on above it.

You nearly flung yourself through the door, stopping dead in your tracks at the sight. You felt relief wash over you as well as slight irritation. They weren’t doing anything wrong, really; you were just feeling oversuspicious and not seeing them had nearly sent you into panic mode. You closed the door quietly, still watching, arms crossed, head tilted to the side. They seemed completely engrossed in each other, but you caught Mickey’s gaze, and you could see him grin against Roman’s lips. He had a hand moving behind Roman’s belt, and you could hear Roman moan quietly into the kiss.

"Do you guys actually get any work done here?" you asked, smirking at Roman as he turned to look at you, his glasses half askew. "Or do you literally screw around all day?"

Mickey grinned wide, showing teeth, his hand not faltering in the least. "We might get more done if we did screw. Roman here struts around all day with a stick up his ass when what he really needs is—"

"Finish that sentence, and I’ll stick your own foot up your ass," Roman said, adjusting his glasses.

"So violent!" Mickey said mock dramatically, the hand in Roman’s pants moving faster. Roman grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him into another more savage kiss. He pulled away after a few moments and turned to you.

"Come here, y/n."

You moved a bit, responding to Roman’s command as if on autopilot. But you only took a few steps before stopping again. "I’m supposed to be investigating," you pointed out. "How are you even this horny when there’s a potential mass murderer on the loose?"

"That just makes us hornier." Mickey grinned wolfishly at you, pulling his hand out of Roman’s pants unceremoniously and tugging his shirt over his head. Roman was unbuttoning his own shirt when Mickey grabbed it and pulled, causing a few buttons to go flying in various directions.

"What the FUCK, Mickey?!" Roman cursed, looking down at his ruined shirt.

"You have 50 identical shirts." Mickey shrugged, smiling unapologetically.

You laughed out loud but made quick work of your own shirt to avoid Mickey trying the same thing with you. You joined them, smirking as Mickey’s eyes went straight to your bare chest. "I knew you weren’t wearing a bra," he purred, pulling you to him. He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth. He pulled away as he felt Roman tug at you, and you were easily swept into another kiss against Roman’s fuller lips. You fiddled with his belt, pulling it off and lowering his pants, even as you felt Mickey’s hands reaching for your own pants.

"Don’t rip them!" You warned him, and he snickered but complied, being careful not to cause any damage. "Do we even have enough time?" you asked belatedly, pulling your panties off next.

"No one’s gonna come looking for him," Mickey said, jabbing at Roman with a thumb.

"We have about an hour," Roman said, scowling at Mickey. He set his glasses aside and pulled you in again, hoisting you up easily. You wrapped your arms around him, and he tugged your legs around his hips. You moaned throatily when you felt him position himself and let you slide down on him. You looked behind you, trying to see what Mickey was doing, and then felt him crowd behind you, his chest touching your back as he positioned himself next.

"Fuck, M-Mickey!" you choked, feeling almost painfully full. You hissed as they began to move, and it felt strange at first as they tried to establish a rhythm. When they found it, they worked flawlessly together. Your head fell against Mickey’s shoulder, writhing helplessly between them. Roman’s hands smoothed down your back, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. His hands kneaded your cheeks, spreading them a bit more for Mickey. Meanwhile, Mickey’s hands closed around your tits, fondling them. You bit your lip, trying not to scream out your pleasure, especially when one of Mickey’s hands lowered to your pussy. His fingers flicked your clit, and you were nearly shaking apart from the pleasure. He chucked lowly next to your ear, tormenting you with his fingers. A moan escaped your lips as they pressed in even closer together, sandwiching you between them as they kissed.

"Fuck, oh my god," you whined desperately. Your nails dug into Roman’s back, and you buried your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle your shouts against it as they increased their pace, hammering inside you. "I’m gonna cum!" you cried pitifully, basically drooling against his sweaty skin. You bit down on his shoulder, and you heard him hiss a bit, but he only pounded you harder for it. Mickey’s hand rubbed between your legs harder, and you screamed as you came, ecstasy exploding through your body. Your eyes were screwed shut, your teeth digging lightly into Roman’s shoulder. One of his hands fisted your hair, right on the edge of pain, as you felt him come next. Mickey’s hands fondled your tits again, rougher this time as he came last.

You stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard together. Then they pulled out slowly, letting you down gently. You could barely stand on your own, feeling yourself lean against Mickey. You grimaced a bit, feeling their come leaking out of you. Roman handed you your underwear, and you used them to clean up a little. The three of you walked a few steps to the cool leather couch and collapsed on it. You had no concept of time, feeling overheated and exhausted. You felt like you might fall asleep until you felt Roman move. He placed a kiss on your cheek before getting up. Mickey placed a kiss on your lips, his hand teasing you again, before Roman batted his hand away.

"Fuck time’s over. Hurry up and get dressed," he said sternly.

Mickey rolled his eyes as he looked at you, and you smiled tiredly. He got up, following Roman, and hugged him from behind, rubbing against him suggestively. Roman pulled out of his grip and barked, "Not now, Mick!"

You giggled as Mickey grinned at you and shrugged, pulling his clothes back on. Roman was carefully buttoning a fresh shirt, glaring at Mickey for having ruined his old one. He smoothed his hair and checked his appearance in a mirror, making sure nothing was out of place. Mickey only gave himself a cursory glance over Roman’s shoulder and turned to walk away. He leaned over you to kiss you again, pinching your tit lightly before going out the door. Roman brought your clothes over, leaving them next to you. He gave you a quick kiss on your lips and followed Mickey out.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, using your clothes as a makeshift pillow. You were relaxed, your mind thankfully blank from all your previous worries. The stress in your limbs bled away with the pleasure. When your phone rang.

You ignored it for a while, but the insistent ringing wouldn’t stop, and you eventually moved, rifling through your clothes, searching lazily for it. As your hand closed around it, you answered, forgetting to check the caller ID. Your chief’s voice sounded through the speaker, and you felt a tiny bit of apprehension creep back in.

"Y/N? Are you there?" His voice was muffled as you pressed the phone to your cheek and sighed.

"Yeah, sorry, what’s up?" you asked.

"I'm just checking up on my best detective," he flattered. "How's your time off?"

"Good. I think maybe a week off was a good idea after all. I’m ready to come back in to work, though," you said hopefully, crossing your fingers as an afterthought.

"I’m not so sure about that," he said doubtfully. "You look tired."

You faltered, your breath catching in your throat. "What?" you croaked.

"You sound tired," he replied, sounding concerned.

"Oh...um," you swallowed, your heart doing backflips in your chest. "I just had a long night," you said, clearing your throat. You heard shuffling and then your partner’s voice.

"I bet," he chuckled.

You felt your hackles rise a bit.

"What’s up? Why’d you guys call me?" You asked again, your eyebrows furrowing.

"Just making sure you’re taking it easy and getting some much-needed rest," he answered, sounding oddly sly.

"I am. I just finished exercising. Now I think I’m going to take a nap," you lied, feeling annoyed at their meddling.

"Yeah, a nap is probably a good idea," and this time his voice transitioned smoothly into that creepy tone you came to dread. "Better for your health than chasing ghosts..."

You barely contained a gasp; every cell in your body freezing up. Your hand shook a tiny bit, holding the phone unsteadily next to your ear. "You..." you whispered. Your eyes darted around, and your other hand pulled your blouse closed, trying awkwardly to button it with one hand. "Where are you?" you questioned, your eyes darting around the room uselessly. There was no way they were there, but your mind was still buzzing with anxiety and paranoia.

"Closer than you think," the voice taunted.

You hastily put on your pants, not bothering with zipping them, as you crept close to one of the windows and moved the curtain just enough to peek out. You saw a ton of people, but none that stood out. You wished you could see the set to make sure Mickey and Roman were safe, but it was well out of view from here.

"Why don’t you come out? Or are you too afraid to face me? Easier to target a bunch of armature actors, huh? You probably jump out from behind them too, like a fucking pussy," you spat, glaring as you scanned the crowd outside harder.

"I guess I should pick on someone my own size," the voice said easily. "Like one of those boyfriends of yours."

You felt your heart stutter, and you moved away from the window again. No one knew. No one was supposed to know. No one except...you shook your head, slumping against the wall. "I don’t have a boyfriend," you said, trying to inject as much confidence into your voice as you could.

"Then who were those two guys I watched fuck you?" the voice asked, sending chills through you. Your eyes darted around the room again, and now you swept through it, running your hand over every surface and trying to squint into every crevice, looking for a camera or some sort of listening device. "You put on quite a show," a cruel laugh. "And here I thought you were such a good girl," he mocked. "Turns out you’re actually a little slut," the voice turned sharp. "You handle cocks better than your gun."

"Fuck you, you fucking creep!" you snapped. "I fucking dare you to crawl out of whatever hole you’re hiding in and face me like a fucking man. Stop using that fake voice, take off your goofy mask, and let’s talk face-to-face," you challenged brazenly. Emotions of shame, anger, and fear mixing with extreme adrenaline. "We’ll see how good I am with my gun," and as you said it, you snatched it up, gripping it in your right hand.

The voice laughed again, making you clench the phone tight enough to make you wonder if it might actually snap in your grip. "We might just take you up on your offer. Soon."

"We?" You sneered and barked out a laugh. "Can’t hack it on your own?"

"Oh, one of us is more than enough to kill you. But one dick just wouldn’t be enough for a whore like you, would it?" The voice sneered back maliciously.

"You fucking low-life rat!" you hissed, trying to stop your voice from shaking. As furious as you felt, your heart rate was also spiking, flooding your system with panic and fright.

"See you soon, y/n."

The line went dead, and you walked over to the couch, tossing your phone aside and running a hand through your hair. Within moments, the door was swinging open, and your head snapped up, your hand instantly pointing the gun, safety off.

tbc?

#scream #ghostface #mickey altieri #roman bridger #ghostface x reader #romickey

112 notes · View notes

mahoetei · 2 years

Text

Mahoe’s Note: I’m back! Apparently. I’m slowly working on old stuff I just didn’t finish last time I was here, but for now, here’s something for anyone who might still be lurking here.

I’ll probably do a fair few for this theme, a couple more One Piece are already in the works and I’ll do some for a few other fandoms too. So if anyone has any characters in mind they’d like to see do let me know and I’ll see what I settle on. I overwrote for this too, I’m sorry.

Notice! - this is a rework/repost of my writing from my old blogs, some of which have been deleted and some which are still around but inactive. I want to redo these so they’re following me over here and are better written than they used to be.

~~~.~~~.~~~

Warnings: Swearing, spoilers for some TV shows? A few references to adult activities I guess? So maybe the tiniest bit of NSFW?

Themes/Incudes: Modern AU, Domestic Life

Word Count: 1801

~~~.~~~.~~~

Living with... Eustass Kid

Lives in a flat, not a house. Probably one of the flats above a corner shop or takeaway place that looks a bit ugly from the outside. It’s a cheap rental flat, probably with a boat load of problems the landlord just isn’t going to fix, but it’s home and it gets the job done.

The flat is in a rough city central location, but it’s still an area where everyone looks out for one another. It’s a weirdly tight knit community with the odd petty crime and those ‘unfavourable types’ hanging around.

I genuinely see Kid living in Scotland or the North/North East of England. Maybe the Midlands or somewhere in Ireland too. Places with some rough little areas, but good people that’ll bend over backwards for you at the same time? It’s hard to explain.

You will forever have mixed feelings over your decision to move in with Kid. Sometimes living with him is the greatest, but, the rest of the time you want to just smother him in his sleep.

Arguments are bound to happen every single day and they’ll often be over the pettiest of reasons. You walked past the TV screen while he was gaming online? Instant argument. You didn’t put his beer in the fridge so he has to drink the room temperature stuff? Oh boy, he’s pissed. He’s left the toilet seat up and you’re giving him grief over it? Absolute screaming match.

“Y/N, where the hell is the bread?” “Oh, we ran out,” “Fucks sake! Why the fuck did you not go out and buy more then!?”

Don’t take these arguments to heart too much, they really don’t matter to him, the need to bitch is just in Kid’s nature.

Thankfully, very serious arguments are a rarity but they are the scariest.

Your neighbours genuinely really hate you both, I’m sorry, it’s true. They’re praying for the day you’ll move out and inconvenience someone else.

Probably have had the police called out to your home for being such disruptive neighbours. Don’t expect Kid to apologise in these situations, he really doesn’t care about your neighbours feelings. In fact, he’s likely to go out of his way to be an even worse neighbour the more he knows he’s getting under their skin.

The amount of apologies you have had to make to the community is absolutely sinful, but someone has to do it and you’re kidding yourself if you think Kid will. Sorry is a word that barely makes it into his vocabulary and is reserved for the worst of fuckups.

Has been arrested for giving the coppers a hard time on these home visits and is on a first name basis with most of the police in your town.

Your neighbours will hear absolutely everything that you guys do, so try not to be too embarrassed. Kid doesn’t have an inside voice and borderline shouts every other word so no matter whether you’re in the middle of a heated argument or are getting down and dirty, they just know.

Nights at home consist of junk food, the occasional takeaway and raunchy TV series’. Game of Thrones, The Boys, basically anything with explicit sex scenes, nudity and bloody violence has Kid super game. He’ll indulge you with series like Bridgerton and True Blood if they’re your cup of tea. For the tits, he’ll absolutely power through.

However, Kid will complain if you want to watch something that’s not to his taste at all, namely cheesy chick flicks or long period dramas with no action whatsoever. He’d honestly rather die.

Despite that, he secretly really enjoyed Grey’s Anatomy. All the doctors just fuck each other and do surgery all day, so he thinks it’s a little cool.

He was absolutely not okay when McDreamy died, he had to excuse himself to hide in the bathroom for five minutes just so you wouldn’t see, and refused to watch past that point. Fuck Grey’s Anatomy and fuck TV script writers.

Was exactly the same over Ned Stark death, but he did manage to power on and keep watching through to the end.

Metal music is played almost constantly throughout the day. Rock too, especially glam and classic rock, but never anything else.

Date nights usually consist of going into town to get drunk at various pubs before partying the night away at all the nightclubs in the area, no matter how sleazy the places are. Going to gigs and festivals are also extremely common.

If you’re at a gig or a festival, Kid will let you sit on his shoulders so you have the absolute best view. He’ll also use his strength to push forward to the very front so you’re as close to the stage as possible. Praise him for this or he’ll get pouty.

If anyone tries to squeeze your bum or touch you inappropriately in any way while you’re sitting on his shoulders, Kid will beat the absolute shit out of them. No one’s cupping a feel without being punished severely afterwards. Same goes for if you’re crowd surfing, the minute he sees any hands creeping where they shouldn’t or trying to pull you down, he’s there with fists flying.

Kid will also accompany you to any gigs for musicians he’s not the biggest fan of, but expect him to stand there looking annoyed and miserable. It’s the handsome boy bands that he hates taking you to see the most, he gets far too jealous.

As a couple you have the most basic weekly routine that you had to make up to keep the household functional. Yes, you had to make it, Kid certainly wouldn’t. All household chores are to be done by Sunday at the latest and grocery shopping has to be done the same day so you don’t starve for the rest of the week or spend all of your money on takeaway. Sunday’s are always primetime for the most arguments because of this.

Kid is in charge of taking all of the bins out and he hates it. You’re pretty much on your own for the rest of the cleaning.

Expect him to make a lot of mess because Kid is entirely incapable of tidying up after himself. He’ll leave his clothes all over the floor, bread crumbs all over the bench and if he misses when he does try to throw something into the bin it’ll sit on the floor until you tend to it.

Kid doesn’t know how to work a washing machine but he’ll hang the clean clothes on the washing line or put them on the radiators to dry for you.

Kid is the type of guy who leaves crumbs in the butter and puts plates with food still on them straight into the sink.

Killer is always over at the flat. Always. And Kid wouldn’t have it any other way. At this point, Killer may as well just move into your spare room because the two are always hanging out together.

Mornings are ridiculously hectic because both of you want to use the bathroom first. Don’t waste your time, Kid will often win because he’ll just wrestle you back down into bed and then sprint down the hallway to the bathroom before you’ve even had the chance to get back up.

If you’re not gaming or watching TV together, you’re listening to music and doing cute creative hobbies. Kid surprisingly likes to make jewellery, often pretty but Gothic in design. He’ll give you some of it and sell the rest on Etsy or eBay.

Kid can draw very very well. Mostly he focuses on mechanical looking designs, but sometimes he’ll just sit and draw detailed sketchings of you while you’re distracted doing something else. If you ask he’ll spend some time teaching you how to draw too, he’s not a patient or kind teacher though.

Kid is a fairly frequent Snapchat and Instagram user. He’ll post the standard stuff like photos from a recent gig he attended, pictures of his art and a snap of the coolest addition to his growing weapons collection. But of course there are the couple selfies too and photos of you bending over to pick something up from the floor with a caption like ‘my view when I’m fucking them tonight’. He may or may not delete those depending on how nicely you ask him.

Kid often gets banned from social media and from online gaming for periods of time. During these periods Kid gets extra volatile because he’s so bored. He’ll also get extra horny because in his mind all he can do is watch porn and fuck. So, beware, he will hound you.

He either stays up stupidly late which makes him extra grumpy in the morning or he’ll go to bed at the same time as you so he can get away with cuddling without it being seen as him being cute or romantic.

Your home is usually messy and chaotic, I’m sorry, it’s just the truth. No matter what kind of cleaning you do, Kid does not care enough about it and really isn’t going to pull his weight. People best not come to his flat if they’re going to bitch at him about his mess; he’ll gladly tell anyone who does to fuck off.

Kid will get rid of any spiders for you if you’re frightened of them, he’s your reliable pest controlling man, so don’t worry. But he will definitely tease you during and after disposing of it. He also might pretend like he’s going to come over and throw the spider at you to scare you a bit, but honestly, he 100% wouldn’t follow through because he knows you might break up with him or at least put a sex ban on him for a while if he did. He’s really not going to risk that.

Honestly a sex ban is probably the easiest way to get him to comply, but you can’t use it too much or he’ll wise up and know you’re full of shit.

Speaking of sex, the man has quite the libido and the stamina to match. You have to keep up with all of his wants and needs, but he’s not selfish enough to not tend to yours.

Fucking is for every day/night of the week and he will be outraged if you try to to make any sort of schedule for it. When he’s got the urge, and that’s often, he’ll come to you. He’s not going to wait for Wednesday night after work and dinner. Fuck that.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #anime #manga #eustass kid x you #one piece hcs #one piece imagine #one piece imagines

156 notes · View notes

dashboardjuliet · 1 year

Text

flesh and bone | chp 4: August 23

previous chapter: here

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader oc

After a messy divorce, you move into a rural house determined to continue on with your life. Until you discover your new home is less empty than you believed it to be

Warnings: nothing specific this chapter, no under 18 readers

He’s standing behind you like a shadow, and it’s a gentle surprise to yourself that you really don’t seem to mind it. After your somewhat awkward, high addled, declaration of friendship, your living situation had changed drastically for the better. You feel more comfortable moving around him, he’s less stiff and on edge. It’s been nothing short of… nice. It’s been nice.

You tilt your head back slightly, sunglasses protecting you from the heavy glare of the sun, to look at him standing in the doorway. You’re planted on your small little porch patio, an umbrella blocking most of the sun, and laptop sat in your lap as you look at decorations for your classroom.

“What’s up? Did the TV go to sleep?” Not that he actually watches it, but you’ve started leaving it on because he’s stopped lurking in his corner, and you can only imagine how boring watching corn has been. You think you caught him watching it once, at night when you had stumbled into the kitchen for water, mouth dry and tacky. He’d been on the couch, but had startled as soon as you had come crashing through the dark, swearing as you had stubbed a toe on the corner of the wall.

“You’re just wasting electricity leaving that thing on,” You purse your lips as he speaks, but you don’t interrupt him. “Was just wondering what you’re doing.”

“Oh!” For some reason you hadn’t been expecting this, his interest in your going ons. You pop up from your reclined position in your lawn chair and swivel around, legs over the side of it so you can face him better.

He’s standing in his spot, hip cocked against the doorway and thick arms crossed over his chest. You wish you could see his face, catalogue his expressions to try and make sense of him. But you’re left staring at the skull, tracing the now familiar curves of it with your eyes.

“Shopping!” You announce brightly, pushing up and moving back into the house so that he can look over your shoulder onto your laptop. He moves with you, turning as you walk past him and following right behind as you place your laptop down on the kitchen counter, leaning your arms on the cool linoleum. “For school, which starts way too soon. I want my classroom to have a theme this year so I need new decorations.”

You smile up at him expectantly, but you get nothing, which isn’t surprising but it still hurts in your gut, just a bit. You go back to looking at your laptop, but freeze as his arms come into view, resting on the counter in a mirror position to yours, but giant.

“What’s the theme?”

“Camping! Well, more outdoorsy than anything, but camping is a good catch-all for what I’m going for.”

“D’you like camping?” You blink up at him, turning your head to face his skull. He’s looking down at you, you think. A small smile crawls across your face.

“I do like camping. I don’t get to do it enough, but I’ve always had a good time when I do. Do you like camping?”

“Prefer it to everything else. I’d rather be out there than the city.” You can almost see him out in the woods, towering trees surrounding him as he sits in solitude, maybe a gas stove at his feet. No one surrounding him for miles. You’ve never camped like that, stuck close to camp grounds where the chatter of campsites and families mingle with birdsong and squirrel chatter, laughter heavy when night falls and campfires roar. It’s a very communal activity for you, but you have a feeling for him it’s an entirely different experience. One, you’re surprised to think, you wouldn’t mind experiencing.

“Where’s your favorite place you’ve camped?” You ask, turning your head back to your computer, eyes scanning the paper crafts and wall hangings that you’ve been looking at. For some reason, watching him while he talks feels too… personal. Like you’re waiting for something, although you’re not sure what.

“Anywhere in Scotland. I’ve got a… mate that I’d go with. But it’s been a while… obviously.”

“A mate?”

“...friend.” His voice is heavy, hesitant, leading toward something more but unwilling to share and you’re unwilling to dig deeper. He’d share if he wanted to. You want him too but you swallow the want.

“No, I know what it means, you’ve just never mentioned friends before. Didn’t think you had any, save for me.” You tease, moving the conversation back to lighthearted. Or as lighthearted as you can manage. You click on a paper tree hanging for a wall, debate for a moment, and then move it into your cart. Maybe for a wishing tree. Or to track your students' birthdays.

“Right then, consider us no longer friends just because of that. Brat.” He moves as he speaks, turning so that his back is resting against the counter, or seemingly resting. You can see the edge of it move into him, the boundaries of his corporeal form giving. His arms are crossed over his chest again. You know he’s teasing you, but still, you pout and turn your head to look at him.

“Nooooo Ghost, whatever am I going to do without your riveting conversations and hulking form scaring the crap out of me?”

“Once we figure out how to get me solid again, it’s over for you. I’m takin’ you down.”

“I’d like to see you try, old man. I’ve got youth on my side.”

“M’ not that old, you shit.”

“Only old people say they’re not old.”

“Alright, that’s it.” He huffs, and then he’s gone. You’re not watching, but you catch the disappearance of his form from the corner of your eye, the air shuddering and heaving around him, and then empty. It makes your whole head turn, and your body follows as you swivel to look around your living area, eyes searching for his form that you can’t find.

He’s played this prank on you before, disappearing and then reappearing behind you, almost giddy with the hilarity of your reaction. If you could see his face in those moments, you imagine his eyes would be glowing with unbridled glee. He’s probably not big on expressions, you think. And it’s only a feeling, but you’re sure his eyes can’t hide much. Only if you could see them.

But this isn’t like before. He’s not right behind you, encroached on your space.

“Ghost?” You call out, your voice small as you move from the kitchen to the living room, glancing down the hallway to your bedroom.

He’s nowhere. For the briefest of moments, you think maybe this is it. Maybe he’s… moved on, left you alone in this tiny house to finally start moving too. But that thought comes with a sadness you don’t know how to address. So you keep moving, hand tracing the wall as you walk down the hallway.

Your bedroom door is open so you step inside, eyes scouring it for him. You walk slowly around the room, peeking behind furniture and under your bed like he’d even be able to fit behind things or under it. Huffing, you pop up from the floor and rest your hands on your bed to look into your bathroom.

Only one more place to look.

Standing, you move slowly over your bed, crawling on top of it, disrupting your comforter in favor of the quickest route to the room. Your steps are light, or as light as you can make them, as you push off the bed and onto the thankfully silent wood floor.

It’s only two steps, and then you’re in the small tiled room, hand reaching for your almost see through shower curtain. He’s not there, you can see, but still you feel the need to check.

“You really think I’d be that easy to find?” His voice rings out from behind you the moment your hand comes in contact with the vinyl.

The yelp that escapes from your throat as you surge forward a step is nothing short of pathetic. A silly, shrill, desperate noise that you didn’t mean to make. It makes you bring your hands up to cover your mouth, trying to hide the fact that you actually made it.

You turn, eyes wide, to face him. He’s bending down, mask the closest it’s ever been to you. You think that if he was physical, your noses would be brushing, the width of a hair separating you two.

Suddenly there’s only one thing you can see, hands drifting down from your mouth as you hyper focus on him.

His eyes.

Brown.

But more than just that. Dark and wonderful and triggering something so deep in you that it makes you weak. Rich, like the chocolates your mother would slip you as a child before and after doing something scary. But that’s not exactly right, because there’s an amber tint to them that also makes you think of your favorite spiced red ale, dark until it’s held up to the light and suddenly it’s ruddy and red, complex and delicious. Yes, that’s closer to him.

You know your eyes must be wide, but whatever expression currently happening on your face makes him back up, his own eyes widening, those blond lashes brushing against his eyelids. You want them to flutter against your skin.

“Don’t tell me I actually scared ya.” His voice rumbles out from behind the mask, a string tied around your midsection, drawing you back from the depths of him. You swallow.

“No,” You squeak, your voice stuck in the high octave from your yelp. You turn your head away from him, clearing your throat and your vision of him, and your voice returns to its normal tone. “No, you totally didn’t scare me. I just make noises like that for fun when I’m checking my bathroom out. So normal.”

When you look back he’s stood up, full height, two heads taller than you. You turn your gaze up to him and notice how his eyes are hooded but warm. Gentle. You knew you’d be able to see all of him through them. His broad body takes up most of the space in the small room, barely able to see past him.

“You sure? ‘Cause that noise you made begs to differ.” He’s teasing and the tone of his voice makes you blush, turning your face away from him again.

“Nope. I never get scared. Actually, I can't.” You motion for him to move with your foot, almost tapping at his ankle. He catches the movement and moves to the side, allowing you just enough room to scoot by him. You could’ve just walked through, like he tends to do with you sometimes, but you can’t find yourself to invade him like that, even if he can’t feel it. You inch by his big body and move into the open empty space of your bedroom, turning back to face him.

It’s easier to think when he’s not crowding in on you. You can hardly sort your thoughts when he’s looming, edges of your vision obscured by how big he is. It’s not like you’re exactly small in size, but he’s just… so much. Of everything.

“Can’t get scared? Gotta say, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that. Am I gonna have to test you?”

“Would rather you didn’t! Just believe me, I’m unscareable.” Waving your hand as you speak, you start to move from your bedroom back to the kitchen, and he follows behind you. You can’t hear his footsteps, never have, but from the corner of your eye you can see the hulking black form follow after. You walk back to your laptop, which has fallen asleep, and you trace your hand on the trackpad to get it to wake up again.

“You’re gonna hafta leave that bedroom door open one night and put this theory of yours to the test.”

“I will absolutely not be doing that, thank you very much.”

“What, scared of what I would do?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t like sleeping with my door open. It’s a fire hazard.” It’s technically not wrong, but you’d rather have him believe you care about fire safety than risk waking up with his scary ass staring at you from the dark.

“Fire hazard. Sure. Just admit you’re scared.”

“Not scared! Overly cautious.”

“Mmmm sure you are. You have many problems with fires before?”

“No. But it only takes one time! And I’m not risking it!”

“Whatever you say Sweetheart, whatever you say.”

TAGLIST @irnbru32 @maxi-ride @weeeeeeeeeeeeezy @the-quiet-whispers-hunter

#my writing #ghost is a ghost au #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #simon riley x oc #simon Riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x oc #cod #call of duty mw2

59 notes · View notes

thenicestthingiveseen · 3 months

Text

one year of fanfiction!

this was my first year writing fic after years and years of reading it off and on.

i published my first fic on February 10, 2023. As of today, (exactly one year)I have written [insert number] of fics for Harry Potter and Red, White, and Royal Blue.

My top 5 favorite fics I've written are:

5. i want that late night sweet magic forever lasting love

4. love songs

3. almost doesn't count

2. every thing i need is right here by my side

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

I'm currently working on two longer fics:

in all chaos there is calculation

untitled RWRB htgawm AU

My writing and posting has been slower in the past few months. Which, I have a love hate relationship with. Real life has been busy and ideas haven’t been flowing the way they used to, but also I’m forcing myself to be better with what I put out and how I share it. I’ve never really considered myself much a writer - I wrote little stories in grammar school, but by middle school other people seemed to be much more well equipped for fiction (I could still write kick ass academic essays - I’m very proud of research papers I’ve written about Beyoncé, Chicago (2002), and the history of House Music). Now I’m rambling. The point is. Writing fiction lead me to reading more fiction and reading more fanfiction (I’ve been lurking in the HP Fandom since idk when, ily hgnetwork.co.uk) and re-learning how to tell stories, well. Telling long ones, actively planning, being organized, all of it. I fell into the RWRB fandom, I need people to scream with about Kennedy Ryan’s ‘Before I Let Go’ trilogy, I was recommended books I would have never ever found in my life and loved them. I’ve watched movies, shows, documentaries that have been referenced. Listened to more Taylor Swift in this year alone than I have since 2009.

I’ve grown so much and still feel like I’ve come back to myself so much.

All of that to say, thank you to every one who has ever read anything that I've yeeted out into the universe, thank you for your ideas, your feedback, your comments, book recs, fic recs -- all of it means so much to me and here's to the next year of fics!

#writing #hinny #hp fanfic #rwrb #rwrb fanfic #year in review

8 notes · View notes

kiss-anon · 5 months

Text

So… I haven’t been very active in the past month, only been on to talk to some friends I’ve made on this site. I apologize for disappearing (if anyone even noticed 😓. I know I’m not super active as I’d like to be).

November was a very rough month and there’s no end in sight for then next few months. I’ve been able to pop in and out to lurk and read, but only during quick breaks. I had 2 deaths in the family within a week of each other at the beginning of November and was asked to do live music for one of the funerals that was less than a week before Thanksgiving as well as help cook dinner for 8 people.

I’m also needed to help go through a house of all sorts of stuff to get it prepped to sell and when I say ‘hoarder house’, I mean HOARDER house. It’s going to take weeks if not months to even empty the house and throw away all the accumulated junk before we even start fixing it up to try to put it on the market. (Think 50 years worth of junk accumulated from 3 people). It’s just me and one other person going through the house until next week.

Thank you my dear lovelies that follow me and talk to me on this site, you all mean so much to me and I will someday get back to being able to hype you all up for your amazing writing!! I will try to reblog fics, even if I don’t have much or even anything to say about them at the time.

Thank you for making it this far into my explanation. I hope to be more active when I have the mental capacity, but for now…

Pen and Sword, my dears. I still love reading when I can, even if I’m just lurking for a bit.

Love,

💋 anon

#pen and sword 💋#💋 anon #apologies #been physically emotionally mentally exhausted for the past month #thank you for reading #💋 anon appreciates you!#💋 anon needs a hug #if your clone oc would be willing to give a hug I’d appreciate it #💋 anon need caffeine and a fancy gym membership

9 notes · View notes

multicharablack · 2 months

Text

[[Photo used is me using picrew,original creator/artist is unknown]]

Hi,Welcome to my den

You are now called ‘Black blopers’ or ‘Red Crows’

•••——————•••

Greetings:

Hi,Im Multichara but I am also blackbunnyblob in Ao3.You can call me Chara,Crow,Blob or just my full username if you want to.I use she/her and is straight as a ruler.I have autism, (mild-ish) ADHD ,and still going to school so my posts are pretty random and incoherent,please be patient with me.

•••——————•••

My Hyperfixation:

The fandom I am currently active and in is ROTTMNT (obviously).But I may reposts some blogs that is TADC,Genshin impact,and (any) FNAF -related stuff,maybe even post some.(And also some Poppy Playtime content lurking in the corners if I’m brave enough to post).

•••——————•••

Warnings:

Sometimes my posts are dark and suggestive (like blood and murder and all that icky stuff) so please be warned,and again, please be patient about me and my schedule, I’m sensitive on what I post and it will be very nice if you try not to give anything that might hurt my feelings or try to ask/say anything to me nicely.I am a human being ,so please, mind what you say.I am also not a Multishipper (I don’t support Leosagi,Kendratello or RaphCasey,I see them only as friends or BFFS,same thing with April x ‘any of the turtle boys’),please don’t attack me because of this,I just don’t see why shipping them with each other.

•••——————•••

Other things:

If anyone, -I don’t know why would anyone do this- ,tries to go to me and seek advice and vent and stuff.Please be mindful that I’m not a therapist,I have some experience with mental health but not into a full instinct that I can actually help you like a full psychiatrist would do.I could still give some advice and tips if I’ve already dealt from it before but other than that, I won’t really be much any help.But don’t worry,you could still vent in here but don’t get your hopes up, I’ll just give you some virtual flower and water to make you feel better, all my crows (followers) here are safe and cherished ,your safe here and your health matters the most. I will not also tolerate bad behavior or any minors here that is too young to engage on this type of content,it’s either behave or kindly leave or get blocked immediately.I also do not support TCEST and proshipping so also kindly leave or else I will unfortunately have to block you as well,Siblings are Siblings,Lovers are Lovers,it is messed up if you put those two together,they stay separated.

•••——————•••

Other other things:

Also…If you try to send an ask and I don’t answer or it takes a long time for you to have a reply from me…I’m sorry about that.I live in Asia so my time zone can be different from yours (depending on what country you live in), and school and work and all that.I’ll try my best to post at least something once a day but it would usually just be Drabbles or small writings,drawing can be pretty challenging for me since I still do traditional art….*cough**cough*because my parents still needs to think if I deserve an IPad *cough***cough*….so my drawings would be rarely seen here but I’ll post a doodle or wips and so.I would also post OC’s Oc x Cannon content here so,yeah,also be mindful about that.And please,don’t steal my works and drawings or things that are rightfully mine.If you want to use my artwork or AU’s,that’s fine but it’s better if you credit me first

•••——————•••

My more bigger AU projects:

CCC - Experiments made to be weapons of war.There is more four of the main turtles made,older clones of themselves.They want freedom,they got it,but at what cause?

Good Things Happened - Good future AU but things still never changed,life was still giving them a reason to hate it,they were still fighting enemies they need to end and protect earth like they have always have been since when they were still happy and young

Happy Endings,Right? - My own version of the boys and having the more realistic injuries post-movie event,things are in shambles but their still together to mend things back to normal.Maybe,life would calm down for a bit

Power and Ruins - Humans are in kingdoms,protected by walls and metal.Mutants and Yokais are in tribes,left to fight for their own.Hunting and Killing,Humans are the real monsters but if the yokais fight back and take what’s rightfully theirs,there the own being called that way.AKA,Yokais and Mutants are considered barbarians in this royal world.

TC:CR - Bad future AU but it stays like that,everybody lives but has a price,the world is still what it is when the sky turned pink,Mikey might knew how and why

What’s underneath? - April swore she lives alone in the isolated NY shoreline lands,just got a job by trying to extract good news in the town near the shorelines even if she was a rocky reporter,but things starts to get more weirder each time she gets close the rocky side of the beach near her home

When worlds collide or MysticCoded - Yokais are now part of the human society,other dimensions are now known,a whole different world if curtain things in the Rise show changed earlier on.AKA,also my own take or iteration of TMNT but it uses Rise bases/basics

Edited:I only put my bigger projects in here to let you guys know this will be the only ones that are majorly active in my posts,but it still doesn’t mean I won’t post any other AUs other then this bunch,it just means it won’t be too active or frequently posted that much.The whole list of my AUs came be clicked here (site link if needed:https://www.tumblr.com/multicharablack/746711140925685760/all-of-my-creations-3?source=share) if you want to check it out

This AU’s would be either mostly active or has already a plot that doesn’t make me procrastinate just so I could think to make any,already has some available HC in my notes that I want to share but I have no courage to.

Disclaimer:All AU’s are inspired either heavily or slightly,I did not copyright anyone and some of it are originally made by me.If you have any further questions,please do not hesitate to send an ask/question,I don’t mind.CCC,In the future times and What’s underneath ? already have bots in Character AI (my username is the same as this one)

—— Yours truly,Multichara

[[Photo used is me using picrew,original creator/artist is unknown]]

Edited:April 3,2024,I had to remake again to make this masterlist smaller

#rottmnt #chara is typing #chara’s idea/drabble drabble time #Pin post #Yay I finally made my masterlist #Might change this soon if I have to add some more #Charatime #Chara’s AUs

2 notes · View notes

streetslost · 1 year

Text

BURNOUT UPDATE

talking to twinnie... i think i need to accept i’m in a pretty bad burnout mode when it comes to writing. so here is the current plan: alina and xayah are going to be semi-hiatus to very quiet level of activity. i will still check in on them and do things quietly ( drafts if i’m up for them or just throwing things in the queue or sending memes if i see them ). they are going to be lowest in activity presently just because they are the only two blogs i’m caught up on. once my multi is caught up, as well, it’ll join them. my multi owes only three things. i will try very hard to get these done. replies will be short just to try and get some writing done and hopefully still of decent quality. like alina and xayah, i will probably be quieter on the dash and just trying to do things in the background, not lose drafts, and maybe send memes if i see them. once i have the three drafts done, i will organize my queue to slowly release the starters i owed and the drafts. but this blog will be low-activity so... no pressure to respond fast to anything i post there lol. if i come up with headcanons for any of the three blogs above, i will probably try and write them up and queue them unless i really want to post instantly. cat will be my main and most “active” blog because it’ll be what i’m logged into on mobile and will most likely do updates and the like. she won’t be massively more active than the other blogs, but she’ll just be where i am vibing. she owes eight things ( one of which is an ask i owe from weeks ago ), her replies will probably also be short if i get to them in the time being. i’m going to try not to force anything on any blog but will write when i am able. basically: please be patient with me for the time being and know that i’m not ignoring you, i’m just probably in my dead bubble. i’ll hopefully pull out of this soon but. honestly it’s been bad lately so expect a lot of continued just dwelling/lurking for the time being. ( hoping when i’m on holiday break in two weeks, that’ll help ) ...i will probably be avoiding starting anything new on any blog starting from now until i feel my energy back. if i’ve already liked for something or discussed something with you, no worries, we can get going! but... just note i will still be adhering to the above rambles and most likely slow. tl;dr i’m in burnout. i’ll be slow. short replies when i do have the energy to write. find me mainly on cat. hopefully will find my muse again around my holiday break. why do i have writing muse to talk about how i don’t have writing muse but not to write my muses ajkfld;saj. the irony...

#i can ramble this but i can't write a two paragraph draft fuck me #&&. ooc ( an athlete with nerd credentials )

20 notes · View notes

crystalninjaphoenix · 1 year

Text

The Nodus Tollens of John and Stacy

A Horror Septic Story

(It’s back! Wow, it’s back! I don’t write these stories often, but when I do, they’re twice the length of my usual stuff XD Anyway. It’s been a while. Stacy discovered that Mark and Amy are aware of the strange things going on, and enlists their help to find John. And maybe help HER as well. Things are changing with her. She doesn’t like the whispers in her ear...)

—————

It was a lovely morning outside. The sun hung in the bright blue sky, shining down without a single cloud to block its rays. But it wasn’t hot, thanks to a small breeze blowing through the streets. It would be a nice day to go for a walk or do some other outdoor activities. Stacy was almost disappointed that she was going to be in a car all day.

“When are you gonna be back, Mom?” Larkin asked, holding her hand. They stood on the sidewalk in front of Mark’s house, with Mathew nearby as well. Mark stood by the car parked on the road, talking with Amy.

“I’m not sure, pumpkin,” Stacy said gently. “We don’t really have a clear destination in mind.”

A week had passed since Stacy had told Mark and Amy about all the strange things that had happened to her family—and they, in turn, had told her they already knew quite a lot about the strange things in the world. Meaning a week had passed with Stacy constantly feeling something over her shoulder, seeing it flicker in the corner of her eyesight. A week had passed with Larkin not quite looking his mom in the eyes, since those eyes now appeared different to him, with his ability to see things as they were. She tried to be gentle with him. It would be shocking for any kid, after all. But she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed—and more than a little angry at the thing that did this.

Mark and Amy had tried to help her. Of course they did. They gave her things to drink and eat, told her to chant passages from books in their secret room, even once had her stay down there overnight, circling the sofa she slept on with some weird yellow powder. But nothing worked. They explained that there was no one cure-all for these things, no magic banishing spell that would get the whisper in her ear to go away. Just because their usual methods were falling flat didn’t mean that she was stuck with this thing.

But she didn’t have much hope. Mark had admitted to being similarly haunted by one of these... creatures... for years now. And they hadn’t found a way to get rid of that, so Stacy doubted they would find a way to get rid of this. She tried not to think about that, though. It was a big world. There had to be some way, right?

“Do you really think you’ll be able to find him?” Mathew asked, edging a bit closer to Stacy and Larkin.

“I think we will,” Stacy said, nodding. “But it might be... difficult. And it might take a while.”

“So that’s why we’re staying here,” Mathew said. This wasn’t new to him or Larkin. He was just repeating it to make it more real.

After a week of failure to get rid of the thing constantly lurking around her, Stacy told Mark and Amy to stop, and asked them for help with something else. She wanted to find John. He had disappeared about a month ago, after that weird glitchy thing had attacked them. And she’d been worried about him ever since... but hadn’t done anything about it. That wasn’t her fault. It was hard to find someone even when you didn’t take supernatural problems into account. She probably wouldn’t have been able to find him before.

But things were different now. Mark and Amy had talked it over, and decided that they might have a way to locate him. It was a bit risky, but Stacy had still agreed. She wanted to know what happened to John. If he needed help, she would be there. It was the least she could do after how many times John had helped her and the boys.

So, here they were. About to go on a cross-country trip to destinations unknown. Amy had offered to stay behind with Mathew and Larkin—Stacy knew this would be dangerous, and she refused to put them in any more danger than they’d already been exposed to. So it would be just her and Mark, driving along roads for however long it took to find John.

“You can call me whenever you want,” Stacy said to Mathew and Larkin. “I have my phone, and Mark has his. If you don’t know how to call or don’t want to, you can always ask Stacy.” Mathew was still a bit uneasy using his phone, and Larkin didn’t have one.

“I know, Mom,” Mathew said. Larkin nodded.

“Good.” Stacy nodded back. “I’ll... I can call you, if you want.”

“Call us every night!” Larkin shouted. “Promise!”

“I promise I’ll call you every night,” Stacy said with a faint smile. “If nothing stops me. And nothing will.”

Larkin leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her in a hug. She squeezed him back. After a moment, Mathew joined in, though he was more just leaning into the hug than actively squeezing like the others. The three of them stayed there for a moment, feeling each other breathe. Then Mathew backed away, and Stacy let go, and Larkin leaned back.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Stacy said. “And that’s a promise, too.”

“Goodbye, Mom,” Mathew said.

“Goodbye,” Larkin repeated sadly.

“Goodbye for now,” Stacy said, and walked on over to the car where Mark and Amy were waiting. She locked eyes with Amy. “Please take care of them.”

“I will,” Amy assured her. “Don’t worry.”

“I wrote up some notes last night and left them on the kitchen counter—”

“Yeah, I saw.” Amy smiled at her. She put a hand on Stacy’s shoulder and gave it a little pat. “Focus on finding your friend, and I’ll have your kids ready for when you come back.” She looked at Mark. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Wha—?!” Mark puffed his chest, indignant. “Is that what you’re going to say to me before I leave to track down someone using a cursed object?”

“You’ve done some stupid stuff,” Amy said. But she was smiling. “I love you,” she added, leaning closer. The two of them hugged, and gave each other a quick kiss. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Mark said. “Promise.” He looked at Stacy. In one hand, he was holding an old shoe box, which he handed to her. “Ready to go?”

“Ready,” Stacy said.

The two of them got into the car, Mark driving, Stacy as a passenger. Outside, Amy walked back over to the boys. Stacy could see them talking, but couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Well. Better get an early start. She looked down at the shoebox in her lap and opened it. Inside, looking totally out of place in the cardboard container, was an old, beautiful necklace. It was mostly silver, ornate circular carvings the size of a thumbnail hanging off a silver chain. They got larger and more elaborate as they neared the center, where an oval gem the size of a palm rested in a silver frame made to resemble rope curling around it. The gem was black with the slightest tint of purple, perfectly smooth and reflective.

Stacy took a deep breath. “So, I just put it on?”

“Yeah,” Mark said. “Well, once you touch it you should feel a compulsion to put it on anyway, but same thing.”

“How reassuring.”

“Hey, I just thought we should be clear on how this works.” Mark looked at her. “Make sure you’re thinking about finding your friend when you touch it, otherwise this might screw up.”

“I got it.” Stacy nodded. She stared down at the necklace, then reached into the shoebox and grabbed the chain. Without giving herself too much time to test the limits of whatever compulsion would start soon, she undid the clasp and put the necklace on.

Mark stared at her, waiting and tense. “Well, uh... how do you feel?”

“The same,” Stacy said. She closed her eyes, assessing herself. There wasn’t much difference. Except... “We need to go that way.” She pointed forward out the windshield.

“Alright, good thing we’re already facing that way.” Mark shifted the car into gear and pulled into the street.

The necklace was something he and Amy had confiscated a while ago. It was supposed to tell the wearer how to fulfill any goal they were thinking of when they put it on. All fine and well, except the necklace would choose the quickest way regardless of morals. And once put on, it couldn’t be taken off until the goal was reached. Difficult when the wearer’s goal was something obscure like “I want to be happier” or something that depended on others, like “I wish this girl liked me.” Therein lay the risk. Until they found John, Stacy wouldn’t be able to stop looking for him.

She felt something rest on her shoulder. i can help if you want it off.

A shiver crawled across her skin and she shrugged her shoulders until the weight disappeared. Mark glanced at her. Then glanced at something behind her. “It’s still there, huh,” she said drily.

“I’m used to it by now,” Mark reassured her. “Seen weirder.”

“Yeah I bet you have.” Like that time he and Stacy looked into some strange rumors south of here and came across a tunnel in the side of a hill with a light at the distant end. The tunnel seemed to get narrower and narrower, and Amy probably would have kept going after the light if Mark hadn’t pulled her back.

Had Mark told her that story? Or had Amy? She couldn’t quite remember.

Not important right now. Stacy looked out the car window and saw Mathew and Larkin, standing on the sidewalk, quickly shrinking into the distance. They were waving after them. She rolled down her window and waved back, not stopping until they were completely out of sight.

She would come back to them.

we will.

Another shiver.

* * * * * * * * * *

When they approached a highway on-ramp, Stacy told Mark to take it. He asked her when they would get off, and she didn’t have an answer. She just knew that if they wanted to find John, they had to take the highway. And when they had to take an exit, she would know that, too. But for now, she just had a feeling about the highway.

TAround noon, Mark asked her again if it was time to get off. She said no. So they kept going. He asked every hour or so, and she said no every time. Once it got dark, he put his foot down. “We’ve been driving all day, Stacy,” he said. “We haven’t stopped to eat, and we’ll need to sleep soon. I’m getting off the highway now. There’s a town coming up, they probably have some place that’s open late.”

A feeling curled around her stomach, a sense of discomfort that made her grit her teeth. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll eat and sleep, and then in the morning we’ll stock up on food so we can eat in the car and keep driving.”

Mark glanced at her. “Is that the necklace talking?”

“I... think it is,” Stacy said slowly. Now that she was thinking about it, why didn’t she ask to stop to eat earlier? She was starving. “Oh god. This is strong.”

“But at least it’s a little flexible,” Mark said. “Though I think it’ll get worse over time, if what we found out about it is true.”

“How do you find all this weird stuff?” Stacy asked.

Mark shrugged. “Once you’re involved, things tend to find you. I don’t know if it’s a weird synchronicity or if they’re all actually looking for you, but that’s how it is.”

“Synchronicity?”

“Yeah, you know, like how sometimes things seem to be related but they really aren’t. Like, what if you’re driving, and you stop under a street light, and then it goes out? You might think that you somehow made that happen, but that’s probably not the case, it’s probably just a coincidence. Or like how you hear about a certain brand of car in an ad, and all of a sudden you start seeing that car brand everywhere. They were probably always there, but you’re just noticing now.”

“Oh. Huh.” Stacy stared out the car window. “I think I get what you mean.” If only all the supernatural stuff that had happened to her and the kids were a series of coincidences. No, she knew it was all planned from the moment they moved into that house. It was all because the thing she could see in the window reflection wanted to get to her. And now it had. “Congratulations,” she muttered.

“What?” Mark asked.

“Nothing.” Stacy blinked, and the extra face behind her disappeared in the window reflection.

* * * * * * * * * *

They were on the road almost immediately the next day. Stacy didn’t get much sleep in the hotel room. Maybe she didn’t get any at all. Between the uncomfortable feeling of “You should be moving right now!” that the necklace instilled, and the faint whispers of the thing at the foot of her bed, it was hard to settle down. Mark did indeed stop at a supermarket to buy a bunch of food, as she requested, but even with that slight delay they were still driving by 7:30 am.

An hour later, Mark asked, “So does the necklace tell you how much farther to go?”

Stacy shook her head. “It’s just this feeling of ‘keep going keep going! Holy shit keep going!’ It’s really... It sucks.” She’d been on edge all day, and there wasn’t much to do in the car to relieve that. “I can’t imagine how it would feel if I didn’t know the necklace was doing this. I’d probably develop an anxiety disorder really quick.”

Mark gave a dark chuckle. “Yeah, that fits with what Amy and I heard.”

“You guys have been doing this for years now, right?” Stacy asked. “Have you ever... saved anyone?”

A moment passed. “Yeah,” Mark finally said. “Our little group’s saved some people. Probably a lot.” He took a deep breath. “Not everyone, though.”

Stacy nodded. That made sense. It was like how they recovered this very necklace. They’d realized someone had bought it online and gone on several wild goose chases trying to desperately track down the buyer, only for them to finally find her just in time for her funeral. The family said she’d worked herself to death.

When had Mark told her that story? Had it been when he and Amy first told Stacy about the possible risks of using the necklace? Must have been.

“You’re really brave, you know,” Stacy said quietly. “Amy, too. And all your friends who look for this stuff. I can’t imagine actively looking for these monsters and—and cursed objects, or whatever they are.” She laughed drily. “I’ve been spending the last year doing the opposite.”

“Well, if you ask me, that’s brave, too,” Mark said. “It takes a lot of mental strength to keep going after experiencing some of this stuff. And you didn’t even have people to talk to about it. Well, except for John.”

“Honestly, I didn’t talk to him as much as I probably should have,” Stacy said quietly. Again, she turned to stare out the car window. Her reflection wasn’t as visible in daylight as it had been last night. “But I mean, seriously. You just keep throwing yourself at this, no matter what happens. Like, if it was me, I probably would have quit after seeing that shadow doppelganger.”

“...what?”

“You know, that shadow doppelganger that was following you everywhere a couple years ago. The one you saw everywhere no matter where you went, even in your backyard, and Amy couldn’t see it. It wasn’t a solid person, more wispy, but it was definitely you, just a bit darker. And it didn’t cast a shadow and that really freaked you out. Especially when it started getting closer and closer—”

“Stacy.”

“Hmm?” Stacy turned back to look at Mark. He was staring at her, his eyes wide... in horror. “What?”

“How do you know about that?” Mark asked quietly.

Stacy blinked. “You... told me, didn’t you?”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Some time in the last week?” Stacy couldn’t remember exactly. “Maybe Amy told me.”

“When?” Mark repeated. He was so focused on her that Stacy was actually a bit worried about staying on the highway.

“Hey, eyes on the road,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted.

“It’s on cruise control and this is a straight stretch. Stacy, when did you hear this story?”

“I... don’t... remember,” Stacy stammered. “But you must’ve told me at some point—you or Amy o-or someone. I definitely remember the whole story. The shadow doppelganger always disappeared when you tried to approach it, a-and as the days passed it always appeared closer to you. One time you looked out the window by the couch and saw it standing right up against the glass.” Mark tensed, but she kept going, the words still coming. “And you couldn’t find any stories about it or anything, and that was really starting to freak you out. Not to mention that some of your friends were telling you that you did some things that you didn’t remember. But they always said that these things were really nice, like giving presents for no reason or going to the movies together.”

“Stacy, how do you know this?” Mark whispered.

“I don’t know! I just—I just know it!” Stacy racked her brain, trying to figure out where she heard all this. But she couldn’t find the memory of hearing about these events, just the memories of the events themselves. “A-and one day, you asked it what it wanted, and it actually responded for the first time, its voice was yours but strangely echoing and it hurt your ears. And it said that it wanted what you had, and it was going to get it no matter what. But you couldn’t find any information about this shadow, and nothing you tried to get rid of it was working, and it was looking more and more solid—until finally, you and Amy were checking out an old movie theater that was supposed to be a site of supernatural stuff, and you got separated, and you found her with it, a-and you fought, and Amy had luckily thought to take a gun to check out the theater, because that’s always useful, but she could see both of you and she couldn’t tell you apart, and you were afraid she wouldn’t listen to you, but she did, and she shot the other one, and you watched your own face dissolve into shadow—”

Mark was staring at her in horror. The car started to drift to the side. But Stacy couldn’t stop talking.

“—And you thought that was that, but one day, you were alone in your recording room setting things up, and you had another one of those dreams where you were spirited away by that thing that looked like a guy with a mustache but had the proportions and face all wrong, but—but this time, it wasn’t alone. This time, the shadow doppelganger was there, too, and you could tell there were other things moving in the darkness at the edges of the room, and you realized you weren’t supposed to be there hearing what they were talking about, but you don’t remember what they said, probably because the one with the mustache shot you in the face and you woke back up again—”

Finally, Mark snapped into action. He looked forward and jerked the steering wheel to the side. Stacy shrieked in surprise, and for a moment she thought they would crash, but Mark regained control easily. He turned to look at her again. “I never told anyone about that dream,” he said quietly. “Not even Amy. You shouldn’t know that. H-how... do you know that?”

“I don’t know,” Stacy said quietly. She was trembling slightly, a slight shudder all over her body.

Something was on her shoulder. No, something was holding both her shoulders.

keep going. more.

“Stacy, are you okay?” Mark asked slowly. “You went white.”

Stacy stared at Mark. And she started to remember more things about him. Things that she shouldn’t know about, things that she never could have heard about. She remembered injuries, hospital visits, heartaches— “Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over!” Stacy screamed. “I need to get out of here!”

“Okay! Fuck!” Mark scanned the road ahead. “That sign says there’s a rest stop in a couple miles, can you wait until then?”

She laughed. “Sounds like I have to!” She bent over, seatbelt digging into her chest, and put her head in her hands. Mark was right next to her. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t think about him. She was starting to remember things that she definitely shouldn’t, feeling sadness for events that had never happened to her and grief for people she’d never even heard of. God, she was remembering Mark’s thoughts. Breathe deeply. Focus on anything else—anything else.

It was behind her. It was so much more than a lingering presence—she could feel its nails digging into her skin. “you don’t like it?” The words were more than a whisper, a hushed voice in her ear that sounded strangely disappointed.

“I’m pulling over now,” Mark said. Indeed, she could feel the car turning and slowing, the texture beneath the wheels going from smooth highway asphalt to cracked road.

The car stopped moving. She immediately undid her seatbelt and flung the door open, almost falling to the ground. But she stumbled and regained her balance and broke into a run. No one was in sight at the little rest stop building, but there were other cars. She didn’t bother to look at them.

Her feet carried her into the building, and her eyes showed her where the bathroom was. She ran inside. It was a small room with a single toilet, no stalls. That was fine. Ideal, even. She bent over the toilet and tried to throw up, but nothing would come. Just dry gags. That still quelled the sudden nausea, and she got to her feet, staggering over to the the sink. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. She turned on the sink to the coldest setting and splashed the water into her face.

The cold was shocking, so she did it again. And again and again, until she was spluttering and couldn’t open her eyes without getting water in them. Deep breaths. Focus on deep breaths.

For a moment, she just stood there, gripping either side of the sink. Eyes closed, chest heaving. She wiped her eyes with her arm, clearing enough of the water to see where the paper towels were. Then she grabbed a few to wipe away the rest of the water.

It was fine. It was fine now. She could still remember those things about Mark’s life when she tried, but no new memories were forcing their way into her head. Okay... Maybe the freaking out didn’t help back there. Maybe... maybe she could figure out some way to avoid that happening again.

Stacy lowered the paper towels from her face and stared into the mirror. There it was. Standing behind her, dark tears dripping down its face. She could see it now, but she knew that the moment she turned around, it would disappear. “Why?” she whispered.

“a gift.”

“I don’t want a gift!” she screamed. “And definitely not—not one like that!”

“then don’t use it.”

“How?!”

“don’t think about it.”

“Don’t think about it?!” Laughter bubbled out of her chest. “Do you know how hard it is to not think about something when it keeps—keeps shoving itself in your face?!”

“because you were thinking about it.” In the mirror, it leaned closer. She could feel something brush against the back of her shirt. “i thought you would like it. even if you don’t, it will help.” And then she blinked, and it was gone.

Stacy stared into the mirror for a moment more. Then, almost without thinking, she turned and left the bathroom, heading in a straight line back outside and towards the car.

Mark was standing by the open driver’s side door, looking concerned as she approached. Stacy didn’t look directly at him. “Everything... fine?” he asked hesitantly.

“Relatively speaking,” Stacy said, opening the passenger’s door and climbing in.

Mark got back into the car and started it. “How—”

“It seems like this thing’s given me some kind of—of gift,” Stacy said. “I don’t know what exactly, or how it works, but... I know stuff about you now.” She paused, and added awkwardly, “Some of it’s... private.”

Mark didn’t say anything for a while. “Do you want to... uh, talk about it?”

“Not right now. Let’s just go.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Mark started the car.

Stacy paused. “Can we put on some music? Loud music, preferably?”

“Sure. No problem.”

They merged back onto the highway and drove in complete silence.

* * * * * * * * * *

It only took another hour and a half before Stacy felt the urge to take the next off-ramp. She told Mark, and he did as she said. Their car merged into the streets of a city, and the necklace urged her to head straight down one road. The buildings grew taller and taller, and a nervous energy propelled her to fidget more and more. They approached a park, and she pointed at a nearby building. “We need to go in there.”

“Got it.” Mark nodded. “The library, huh? There’s bound to be parking nearby.”

Stacy nodded back silently. She looked very pale. Glancing out the window, her eyes landed on a woman waiting at a bus stop. And she remembered how that woman had caught her husband cheating on her with a work friend, and how he dragged out the divorce proceedings to bleed her of all she was worth. She had never seen that woman before, but now she remembered this as if the woman told her the story herself.

They parked in an underground garage, in a spot close to the elevator. There was a group of three teenage boys waiting by it. Stacy glanced at them, and remembered how they had gone snowboarding last year and one of them had crashed, breaking his leg. “Can we take the stairs?” she asked Mark in a hushed voice.

He looked at her with an expression of mixed confusion and sympathy. “Yeah. Of course we can.”

They took the stairs to the street level and walked in through the library’s front door. Stacy glanced around as they entered, taking in the surroundings but trying not to look directly at any of the patrons or staff. She couldn’t avoid it entirely, though. An elderly couple suddenly stood up, the movement drawing her attention, and as she caught a glimpse of them she remembered a recent funeral for a lifelong friend of theirs.

“Stacy, are you okay?” Mark asked. “You’re white as a ghost.”

Stacy swallowed, even though her mouth felt dry. “I think... the gift works for anyone,” she said quietly. “A-anyone I look at, I know... I know things about them. Things that...” She trailed off.

“Well... judging by what you knew about me, and judging by your expression, they aren’t exactly happy things,” Mark said. “But we can figure this out. If we need to talk to anyone, I’ll do it, and you can look around while I do that. Maybe focus on what we need to do next. What do you feel?”

“Um...” Stacy waited for the answer to come, but it didn’t. She closed her eyes and tried to feel that push to keep going that the necklace gave her. But there was nothing. No feeling of urgency or stress about waiting around. She felt... normal. “It’s... not working,” she said, surprised, as she opened her eyes.

“Not working?” Mark repeated, equally surprised. “That shouldn’t happen. Not until you reach the goal you had when you put it on. Are you sure?” She nodded, and he turned away, bewildered. “Well... maybe your friend could be somewhere in here. But it should’ve taken us right to him, and I don’t think I see him anywhere.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t recognize him,” Stacy said. “You only met him once.” She braced herself, and looked around at the library patrons. The terrible things in their lives flashed through her mind, but she tried to focus on John.

“Well I think I’d remember a guy with an eye-patch.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Stacy murmured. For a moment, she remembered the time she and the kids got separated from John, after losing him in Foraois Hollow. The next time she’d seen him, she hadn’t realized who he was until he told her. And she recalled the last thing he said to her... Forget about me like everyone else.

“It’s still weird that it just stopped working,” Mark said.

Stacy felt something squeeze her shoulder, and heard a whisper in her ear. “it’s blocking the collar. you can’t find him.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “What?” she whispered.

“this is the last place he was enough himself to be found.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me.”

A young man wearing a black tank top brushed past them.

“Oh right, sorry!” Mark said, stepping aside. “Stacy, we’re blocking the entrance, let’s step aside.” He took her arm and gently pulled.

“Right, sorry.” Stacy stepped aside as well, instinctively looking up at the young man as he walked away—

The memory hit her like a sack of bricks.

It was late at night when it happened. He’d woken up to the sound of his mother screaming. Instantly awake, he threw aside the blankets and ran out of the bedroom. The cabin they rented in the mountains was unfamiliar to him, but he could follow the sound.

He ran into the bedroom his parents were staying in and saw his father using a lamp to beat back their family dog, whose white muzzle was stained with red. The dog turned to stare at him. Its normally dark eyes were glowing yellow. Before he had time to process this, his father landed one solid whack with the lamp. The dog yelped, hit the wall hard, and stopped moving.

His father looked at him, breathing heavily. “Call the ambulance, mijo,” he said—using a term he rarely did. “And animal control. Don’t let your sister come in here.”

Though he felt frozen, he forced out a nod, and turned to leave. He’d left his phone in his room. The room where he slept alone, because his older sister Camila wanted to have one to herself, which she didn’t at home. Thinking about that caused him to hurry. He didn’t want Camila to be alone after that. Maybe the glowing eyes were some trick of the light. But what light? His parents’ bedroom had been dark.

He picked up his phone from the dresser and began to call 911. The operator picked up, and he stammered out some explanation, something about an animal attack and his mother being injured, telling them the name of the cabin they’d rented. On the other end of the line, the operator said that an ambulance was on the way, but it might take a while because of how far the cabin was, and to not hang up.

As the operator talked, he looked through the window. It was closed, but the curtains were ajar, because he liked the scenery. And there was someone standing outside. A man whose eyes glowed yellow.

He started, and dropped the phone. The man with yellow eyes smiled, revealing sharpened, wolf-like teeth. And then he blinked, and the man was gone. He hurried to pick up the phone, but somehow the call had ended. His eyes landed on the battery icon, watching as it visibly drained and then died.

They had to get out of here.

He ran for Camila’s bedroom. Behind him, he heard glass shatter, his father shout, and a strange, animalistic bellowing. He didn’t turn to see. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t afford to wait.

Camila was awake, having heard the commotion. “What’s going on?” she asked.

He only said, “We’re leaving! Now! Where are the keys?!”

“I think we left them in the living room? What’s happening? Are—” She didn’t have time to finish the question before he grabbed her and pulled her out of the bedroom. As he glanced back into the room, he saw the man with yellow eyes at the window, snarling.

More glass broke. He didn’t turn around to look, just ran with Camila behind him. They reached the cabin’s living room and he spotted the car keys discarded carelessly on the coffee table. “Get your shoes on!” he shouted, scooping them up. Camila hurried to do so, and he did as well.

And then there came a tapping at the window. He glanced up and saw birds flying outside, several of them, ranging from hawk to songbird. All tapping at the glass with their beaks or talons.

“Fuck!” he shouted.

Camila looked up, and gasped. “What the fuck?!”

There was no time. Beyond the tapping, he could hear loud sounds trampling down the hallway towards them. He grabbed Camila’s hand again and pulled her to the front door. They burst outside into the cold night air, running across the gravel driveway to where their car was parked. Doors were thrown open. They flung themselves inside: her in the passenger's seat, him behind the wheel. As he put the keys in and started the car, he glanced back towards the cabin’s front door. A hulking animal with yellow eyes charged through the open doorway, running straight at them. He caught glimpses of more yellow eyes behind it.

He shouted wordlessly and threw the car into drive, slamming the gas. The wheels spun for a terrifying split second before the car shot forward. The beast pursued them, but he didn’t let off the gas for a second.

The lights were not on. They were barrelling down the mountain road in darkness. He turned them on just in time for them to catch a man standing in the center of the road. A man with yellow eyes.

Camila screamed, but he didn’t flinch. The car jolted as the man went under. They weren’t wearing seatbelts, so they were thrown about. He heard a loud CRACK! His head whipped towards it. Camila was slumped forward, eyes closed, blood trickling from under her hair.

That was bad, but it could have been worse. They were going to make it. They were going to make it.

Camila laughed. She opened her eyes... and they glowed yellow.

He probably should have hesitated.

But he didn’t. He took his hands off the wheel and his foot off the gas, leaning over Camila she was slumped over. Reaching for the door handle. He could feel her squirming, and her nails clawing—were they sharper? No time. There was no time. He flung the door open, then threw himself backwards and gave Camila the strongest shove he could manage.

She tumbled out the door, rolling on the gravel road. As she did, she screamed, and his heart broke. But he couldn’t think about it now. He faced frontwards again and hit the gas, the car recklessly coasting down the sloping path.

It was only later, when he tried to tell the police, that he heard there were no records of the cabin where they stayed.

Stacy gasped. She blinked back sudden tears. That memory... it wasn’t normal. Obviously it wasn’t, what part of remembering things about people when she looked at them was normal? But the memory itself was strange. She knew those events were true. And those events were not natural.

“Um... Stacy?” Mark prompted.

Her eyes darted around, looking for that young man in the tank top. There! He was at the library’s front desk, talking to a young woman behind it. She didn’t look directly at her. Not yet. That memory was strong, and she didn’t want to be overwhelmed by whatever private business that young woman had. “We need to talk to him,” she whispered to Mark.

“Oh.” Mark looked at the young man, giving him a practiced once-over, the kind a person usually makes when they’d spent their whole life seeing unnatural creatures. Searching. Assessing. “Okay, I know he’s not your friend. And he’s not anything weird, either. Is the necklace working again?”

“No.” Stacy paused, thinking. “But I think my gift is working as intended.”

“Huh?”

“We’re going to go up to the counter,” Stacy said. “Ask about a library card or something while I listen.”

Mark nodded, easily pushing past the confusion, and the two of them walked up to the front desk. He started talking with the man sitting behind it about how to get a library card, what was needed and how many books you could check out and all that. Meanwhile, Stacy strained her ears, ignoring Mark’s conversation and trying to figure out what the young man and woman were talking about. They were speaking quietly, as if they didn’t want anyone to hear. But Stacy did. Somehow.

“...break in ten minutes,” the woman was saying. “We can talk about it then.”

“It’s really important,” the man insisted.

“I know it is, but it’s fricking weird to have this conversation now. Not to mention risky. This is a public library, anyone could hear us.”

“We’re not doing anything illegal. Well, the basement—”

The woman shushed him. “This is exactly what I mean!” she whisper-shouted.

The man glanced around. Stacy pretended to be really interested in the flyer on the desk advertising classes on Photoshop in the library’s computer lab. “You’re right,” the man whispered back. “This whole thing just freaks me out. You know me, I’m smarter than this. Usually.”

“I know you are, Leo.” The woman sighed. “Ten minutes. Meet me at the staff entrance in the parking garage. There’s that generator nearby, it’ll cover up the noise.”

“Got it.” The man turned and walked away.

Stacy nudged Mark subtly, hoping he’d get the signal. Luckily, he did. “I’ll come back with the photo ID later,” he said to the staff member behind the desk. “I want that maximum limit!”

The staff member laughed. “Good to see people ready to read. Come back any time.”

“I will, I will.” Mark smiled and nodded, then turned away. Stacy followed him. As soon as they were out of earshot, he asked, “Did you get anything helpful?”

“I did,” Stacy said. “Those two are definitely up to something. I don’t know if it’s related to John, but I have a feeling they might be a good place to start. They’re going to meet up in the parking garage in ten minutes, by some sort of generator. I think it’s the same one we’re parked in? I mean, it’s the closest one, so it makes sense.”

“I didn’t see any generator, but might as well check it out,” Mark said. “Can I ask why you’re so... insistent?”

Stacy explained the memory as they went back down to the parking garage—taking the elevator this time. She didn’t tell Mark everything. Like that bit at the end with the man’s sister... Some things deserved to be kept private. But she told him enough to understand.

“So because this guy has a memory of these freaky events, you think he could help us find John?” Mark guessed.

“Maybe. We can ask him, at least. Him and that girl, I think... I think they’re involved in something... strange.” Stacy paused. “Like we are. And like John is.”

The underground parking garage was big, so they got in Mark’s car to drive around it. And there! At the other end of the garage. There was indeed a generator, shoved into a wall and blocked off by a chain link fence. Mark parked in a space nearby, one partially hidden from the generator by a tall concrete pillar. “Alright, now what?”

Stacy paused. “I’m getting out,” she announced, and opened the door. “I’m going to go look around.”

“Wait!” Mark hissed. “Look!”

She looked in the direction he was pointing. The young man from the library was approaching the generator. Her eyes widened. “Duck down!” she said in a hushed voice. “I’ll hide behind the pillar.” As Mark started to move, she gently closed the car door, careful to make no sound, and stood at the edge of the pillar, at the perfect spot to occasionally glance around.

A few minutes passed before the young woman from the library appeared. She didn’t come from the same direction as the man. Instead, she came from a pair of nearby double doors. The staff entrance. Must have been. Stacy took a deep breath, and braced herself as she looked at the young woman glancing around—

And again, the memory slammed into her.

She didn’t remember picking up this book from her latest library trip. Had it fallen into her backpack at some point? Well, as long as she wouldn’t get fined for it, it was probably okay. The title was “Verum Fabulas: A Story Collection” and the cover had a photo of a cityscape at sunset. So it was a short story anthology, huh? Might as well check it out.

Something was strange about it from the beginning. There was no table of contents, as would usually be found in this type of book. And there was no page at the beginning with all that tiny legal text. Maybe it was self-published? There was a photograph of the author at the back, a full-body picture of a gray-haired woman standing in front of a brick wall. The name credited her as Suma Verus: clearly a pseudonym. Latin of some kind, going with the book title. Strange scheme, but sometimes authors wanted to stand out.

As she began to slowly work through the short stories in the book, she was hit by something even stranger than any of that. Every single story ended with the main character dying. No matter what direction the story was going in. And the deaths were completely unrelated to the themes, too. A scifi story about an aspiring author competing against the world’s first android writer? He chokes on a chicken bone while eating dinner and dies without any conclusion to the competition. A mystery story about a woman uncovering the dark secrets of her aunt’s family heirlooms? She gets carbon monoxide poisoning and dies, the secrets never being mentioned again. A fantasy story about a king and queen getting lost on the way to a diplomatic meeting with fairy royalty? Of all things, a truck comes out of nowhere and hits them both. In a semi-medieval setting.

She struggled to find some reason for all of these deaths. Maybe the author was trying to hint at a deeper meaning for all of them? But as strange and bad as these stories were, they weren’t too weird.

At least, that was what she thought until she came to the last story.

The main character’s name was hers. First and last. The physical description matched her to a T. The story mentioned family members, and they were hers. It mentioned a favorite food, and it was hers. It talked about a green water bottle with flower stickers... just like the one she always carried.

She read slowly, more confused and horrified with every one of these revelations. The context was different, set in a space station orbiting Earth, but all those details were true. Though she wanted to stop reading, she couldn’t. Something compelled her to keep going.

The story ended with the main character of her name being crushed by a falling gargoyle. Which just confused her more... until she remembered that there was a building on her college campus with beautiful old gargoyles. She had never gone in that building, but she walked by it every day to get from her dorms to the dining hall. A part of her said that this was all a massive, massive coincidence, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that. So she took a different, longer route to the dining hall that evening.

Later that night, the college sent out an email apologizing for how some of the building’s decorations had fallen.

Just a coincidence... right?

She read the story again. The ending was different this time. Instead, the main character got trapped in an elevator just as the cable gave out and sent her crashing to the floor. There were elevators in her dorm, and elevators at the library she frequented. She avoided them both that day, and an elevator at the library suddenly collapsed right in front of her. Thankfully no one was inside. But someone could have been.

Had the story really changed?

She read it again. As if to spite her for using the stairs, the ending now read that someone ran past the main character and she fell down a staircase. Shaken, she closed the book, and stared down blankly at the author’s photo on the back cover. Was it just her imagination, or was the woman in the photo standing a bit closer? Had her feet always been cut off below the photograph, or was it just her mind playing tricks?

Desperately, she tried to get her roommates to read the story, but none of them did. They kept forgetting that she asked. Strange, considering none of them had ever been that forgetful before.

She read the story over and over. Every day, the ending changed. Her demise varied from car accidents (she stopped walking near roads) to food poisoning (she bought new groceries) to slipping in the shower (she avoided it all day.) She stopped going outside at all, knowing that the story would only predict her death out there. But there were plenty of ways to die in just her dorm room. That was proven when the story correctly predicted faulty wiring in her bedroom light switch, which she got checked out by the campus maintenance guys.

And every day, the woman in the photograph got a little closer.

The woman started appearing in her dreams. She stood at the foot of her bed every night, eyes reflecting light like a cat’s, silver hair flowing in an invisible wind. And as the woman’s head began to take up the photograph, she began to see her in her waking hours, too. Standing in the corner of her vision. Slowly, slowly raising a hand, reaching for her. She tried to ignore the book in hopes of stalling the woman, but it was no use. Once a day, against her will, she found herself taking the book from whatever hiding place she’d put it in and reading the final story, over and over.

Until, finally, her desperation reached a high. The story predicted she would die in a fire while cooking on the stove. After reading that, she saw the photograph on the back was just of the woman’s face, framed with silver hair. Instinctively, she knew that the woman wasn’t going to get any closer. She could see her in the corner of her vision with her hand outstretched. There was nothing more she could do. Except, maybe...

She made sure her roommates would all be out. Just in case. And then she started to cook, making simple ramen. Something caught. And the pot was ablaze. The panic almost overtook her. It happened so fast!

But she was prepared. She held the book in her hands and dropped it into the pot, nearly burning her fingers. In the corner of her eyes she saw the woman lunge forward, then start to wail and tear at her own face. The fire quickly consumed the book. The woman smoked and turned black. And then she was gone.

There was more to do. She edged a lid over the pot, again almost burning her hand. The fire died slowly. The only parts burning were the fragments of the book left outside. She stared at them, not wanting to move, until they were nothing but ash.

Stacy took a moment to catch her breath. So, she was right. The young man and woman both had strange experiences. Now the question was if they were still involved with this world.

The two of them were talking by the generator now. Even with the distance and the loud industrial humming, Stacy could still hear them. Strange.

“i’m helping you.”

She chose to ignore that and focus on the conversation.

“I didn’t know you were old enough to get one,” the woman said.

“Barely, yeah.” The man nodded. “The guy didn’t ask questions. Which is good, because I’m sure my planned excuse would have fallen flat. So, what do you think? He’s ready to sell if we need one.”

The woman sighed. “I just... I don’t know. It’s not too different from stabbing.”

“I say it’s pretty different. We won’t have to get too close. And I think that thing likes knives, we don’t know how it’ll feel about guns.”

“It just feels so... visceral, you know?” the woman said.

“You’re the one constantly talking about how freaky it is,” the man pointed out. “And we can’t do laundry anymore with it down there. We need to get rid of it fast.”

“Yeah, but like—none of the others begged for help. I know it’s probably a trick of some kind, but...” The woman trailed off. “I-it feels bad, you know?”

“Diane... I get it,” the man said softly. “I don’t want to do it, either. But what else are we going to do? Let it go? Keep it forever? This thing scared Michael. I didn’t even think that was possible. It’s dangerous, a-and we need to... we need to do something about it.” His voice shook a little.

“Have you talked this over with Michael and Rya?” the woman asked.

“No...”

“We’ll do that first. Have another meeting tonight. But honestly? I doubt you’ll get a majority agreement. We’re not... not heartless.” The woman gave a little laugh. “Maybe if we keep at the isolation strategy, it’ll... pass... eventually.”

“Maybe,” the man said, sounding uncertain.

“Did you drive the van up here?” the woman asked.

“Yeah.”

“Can you...drive me home? I-I think I want to take the rest of the day off.”

“Sure. Of course.”

The two of them walked away. Stacy watched carefully, then slunk back to the car, opening the door and awkwardly sliding inside.

“Anything helpful?” Mark asked.

“I’m not sure,” Stacy said slowly. “I think they were talking about one of the... creatures. Hang on, can we, like, follow them?”

“Depends on where they’re going,” Mark said, watching the pair of them walking. “Did they say anything?”

“The guy mentioned he drove a van up here,” Stacy relayed.

“Like that one?” Mark gestured at a gray van, parked some ways away from them.

“Yeah...” Stacy nodded slowly. “When we noticed the guy, he was walking in from that direction. That might be it. Keep watching.” They both fell silent for a moment. The man and woman approached the van and got in. “That’s it.” Stacy squinted. “Can you see the license plate?”

“Not from here,” Mark said. “We might be able to tail them. But you should try to look for the plate anyway.”

“I’ll take a picture,” Stacy said, reaching into her pocket and taking out her phone.

The van started up, pulling backwards out of the parking space and driving away. Mark started his car again and followed.

* * * * * * * * * *

They weren’t able to follow the van all the way. At some point, they lost it in the traffic. But by then Stacy had taken several pictures of it and its license plate. “Do you think we’ll be able to find it again?” she asked.

“I mean, it might take the rest of the day, but probably,” Mark said. “If the guy drove up here, they can’t have gone too far. Still, that’s a lot of places to look. Do you really think we’ll need to find them?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Mark glanced at her. “Are you gonna tell me why?”

“Of course. It’s just...how do I say it?”

“You can start with telling me what you overheard.”

“Well.” Stacy repeated the gist of the pair’s conversation. The two of them had to deal with something dangerous, and the man could get something to help with that, but the woman was hesitant. “It sounds like they have one of these monsters in their basement and are trying to figure out how to get rid of it.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Mark muttered. “So you think that we can help them? And they can help us?”

“Yeah.” Stacy nodded. “I get the feeling they’re involved. You know... like we are. When I looked at them, I knew that they’d gone through similar stuff. And we don’t have many leads on finding John anymore. So... it’s as good a place to start, right? With the people who are involved.”

“Don’t sound so uncertain about it, it is a good idea,” Mark reassured her. “We’ll look for their van in the area. And if we see it... I guess we’ll go up to them and start talking or something. Ask about John.”

“Right.” How would one start that conversation? ‘Have you seen my friend with an eyepatch? He’s also been marked by the supernatural, like you and the two of us, too.’ No, that was too blunt.

Well, she had some time to think about it.

* * * * * * * * * *

They drove around the city for most of the day, stopping around noon for lunch. Mark went up and down the surface streets in an ever-widening circle. Stacy said they would cover more ground if they took the freeway, but he pointed out that they could easily miss some areas. It sounded like the strange man and woman lived together in a house, judging by their mention of the basement, and the freeway didn’t go right into every neighborhood.

It was late afternoon when they finally found the van. Parked in a driveway of a one-story suburban home. Stacy double-checked the license plate to be sure this was the right one. “Got it,” she muttered. “So now...” She stared at the house’s front entrance. “I guess we just... walk up there?”

“I mean, do you have a better idea?” Mark asked. “We could sneak inside or something, but we want to talk to them, and that wouldn’t exactly be a good impression.”

“No, you’re right.” Stacy grabbed the car door handle. Before she stepped out, though, she asked, “I did pack my gun and holster, right?”

“The holster’s that shoulder strap thing, right? Yeah, I put them in the trunk,” Mark said.

“Good.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t be needed, but she would rather be safe than dead.

She made a quick detour to the trunk and strapped on the holster, putting on a jacket to hide it. Mark stopped the car and also stepped out, meeting her at the back. He rummaged through their packed bags until he found a sheathed hunting knife. “Not fair that only one of us’s armed,” he said in response to Stacy’s surprised expression. He tucked the knife into his belt. “Now let’s go.”

The front door was white, sitting in the middle of a small porch with some old white plastic lawn chairs, clearly unused. Stacy hesitated, then rang the doorbell.

Thirty seconds passed. She caught a glimpse of movement in the front windows, but couldn’t see who—or what—it was. So she rang again.

Another thirty seconds passed. “Do you... think they’re gonna answer at all?” Stacy asked Mark quietly.

“Honestly I don’t think many people open their doors to strangers these days, so probably not,” Mark answered. “Guess we’ll have to be persistent.”

“I guess.” She rang the doorbell again.

And then it opened. A tall young man with a strawberry blonde ponytail glanced at her, then glanced at Mark, then smiled. “Can I help you?”

The moment Stacy saw him, another vivid memory hit her. She remembered mirrors, a twisted living reflection, an escape, and grief for the family he’d lost—or, actually, the family that lost him. And she remembered a gap that he felt within himself, a gap that disturbed him but that served its use. It took her a couple seconds to recover from it. “Hi, uh... we’re looking for a friend of mine,” she said in a somewhat strangled voice. “Have you seen him? He’s about my age, brown hair and a beard, one blue eye and one covered by an eye-patch. Last I saw him he was wearing a green parka.”

The young man frowned and shook his head. “No, I don’t think we have.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Pretty sure.”

Stacy paused. “Well... maybe you could help us look for him,” she suggested.

“Uh... okay. If you have any missing pictures we can help put them up and keep an eye out, but there’s not much we can do.” The man laughed. “It’s not like we’re the police.”

“The police wouldn’t be able to help, anyway,” Stacy said. “But I think you can.”

The man stopped laughing. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave her a wary look. “What?”

Mark cleared his throat. “I’ll just cut to the chase. I think it’ll help everyone if we’re all honest with each other. We know that you and your friends... are involved with some... let’s say, unnatural business. We’re the same. My friend’s friend has gone missing because of some of that, and we think that if we share our information, we might be able to find him.”

Stacy nodded. “And I think we can help you guys with anything you’re, uh, having problems with.”

The man stared at the two of them. Flashes of memories flickered through Stacy’s mind: ones that were, as Mark put it, unnatural. Objects and the occasional creature that she pushed out of her mind as soon as they came, not wanting any more of these things to linger in her memory than the ones already there. “Uh, one moment,” the man said, and promptly closed the door.

...Welp.

Mark and Stacy looked at each other. He jerked his head towards the window. She nodded, and they both leaned to the side, looking through the glass and open shutters. The young man and woman from the library were in there, along with another young lady and the man who’d opened the door. They were all talking, gesturing animatedly. As Stacy looked at the new young woman, another vivid memory hit her. Well... at least this one didn’t feature some new horror. The classmate in the red hood in the woman’s memory was already familiar to Stacy. But she never expected to see it here.

As if she realized Stacy was thinking about her, the young woman glanced through the window towards Mark and Stacy. Her eyes widened and she pointed. The two of them immediately leaned back out of sight.

A few seconds later, the young woman opened the front door and shouted, “Are you freaking Markiplier?!”

Silence. And then Mark burst into laughter. “Yeah, I am!”

“Holy shit!” The woman gaped at him, and the other three all hurried to gather around the front door to see. “I can’t—there’s—Markiplier??? At our house?? Markiplier knows about the supernatural?!”

“Yeah, I sure do, I sure do.” Mark chuckled.

The man from the library muttered something under his breath, looking equally in awe as the woman. Meanwhile, the other two looked confused and mildly interested. Of course. Stacy had forgotten about Mark’s online presence. He played video games on YouTube. But she hadn’t expected this to happen in a million years. Did YouTubers usually get this reaction or was Mark just special? “Hey, uh, come in... man,” the guy from the library said awkwardly. “Your friend, too.”

“Thanks,” Mark said, stepping inside. Stacy followed, and the door closed behind them.

Everyone stood around, hovering uncertainly. “So... I-I’m Rya,” said the young woman who’d recognized Mark. “This is Michael, and that’s Leo and Diane. We, uh... I-I’m sorry, this is all so weird.”

“No, I get it, I get it,” Mark said. “It’s so weird. Oh, uh, this is Stacy.” He gestured at her. “We’re looking for her friend.”

“And you two know about all the paranormal stuff,” Leo said. “Not that I want to accuse you of lying, but, uh... is there anything you... uh, anything you can do to...”

“Do you have any proof?” Diane asked.

Stacy felt something squeeze her shoulder. She looked at Leo, and the squeeze tightened. Before she was aware of it, she whispered, “Your sister’s name was Camila.”

Leo stiffened and went pale. His three friends glanced at him. “You have a sister?” Rya asked.

“I-I did, but not...” Leo’s voice faded quickly.

Stacy shrugged her shoulder and shook her head. “I’m... sorry, I-I didn’t mean to... say that,” she stammered. “I just—this happens sometimes, it’s—it’s part of... of what happened to me.” A hint of a whisper in her ear. She ignored it.

“Well... that’s proof enough,” Leo said, swiftly recovering. “These guys are legit.” He looked around at the others. “Do you think they could... help?”

“With the thing in the basement?” Michael asked.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t just say it!” Diane gasped. “You’ll scare them away!”

“What’s in the basement?” Mark asked.

Diane made a strangled noise. She glanced at her friends, then sighed. “Well, it looks human,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But we’re pretty sure it’s not. I-I saw it at my work one day, where it... it made all the computers go weird. And it’s done the same sort of thing ever since we, uh, took it and, uh... put it in our basement. Rya’s laptop and all our phones go crazy around it.”

Rya nodded, backing up Diane. “And it’s really aggressive.”

Stacy frowned. Computers and phones acting weird... “This might be a weird question, but... does it have green eyes? I-I mean, are the white parts green?”

The four looked surprised. “Yeah, it does,” Michael said quietly. “Do you know what it is?”

“Maybe,” Stacy said. “I can’t be sure without seeing it, but I think it’s something I’ve seen before.” She paused, and looked at Mark. “Maybe... maybe this’ll help us, too.”

He leaned closer to her and whispered, “You said you weren’t able to defeat that weird glitch thing before. If that’s what’s in their basement, how can we do it now?”

“I don’t know. But things have changed.” Stacy ignored a touch on her shoulder as she said that. “And we can try, at least. If it’s stuck down there we’ll be able to get away easily.”

“That’s a good point.” Mark straightened and looked back at the four friends. “Alright. I think we have an idea. We’ll go down and look at the thing in your basement, and if we’re able to do something about it, can you guys help us find Stacy’s friend?”

“Uhhh... one second,” Diane said. She gestured at the others, and the four of them shuffled out of the living room and into the nearby hallway. Stacy and Mark could hear their voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. A short time later, the four of them came back. “Alright.” Diane nodded. “We’ll let you try. The basement stairs are this way.”

The two of them followed the friends down the hall, passing a side door before reaching the open doorway that led to the staircase, lit up by a single bright light at the bottom. Mark asked a few questions as they walked down the hall and climbed down the stairs. Mostly stuff about how many strange things these friends had seen over the years, and what they’d done with them. Diane did most of the talking, explaining that their little group formed when they realized they all experienced something terrible and unnatural, and they’d promised to get rid of any more terrible and unnatural things they’d found, before anyone else could get hurt. They’d been at this for about three years now, and had banished or destroyed many of these strange things.

Stacy knew all this. She remembered some of the group’s more harrowing encounters whenever she looked directly at one of them.

“Here we are.”

The bottom of the basement stairs ended in a short hallway with two doors to the left and right. Diane and the other three all turned to face the one on the left. None of them moved to open it. There were no sounds coming from the other side.

“So, what are we expecting to see here?” Mark asked. “You said it looked like a human. Is some guy just going to rush at us the second we open the door?”

“No, we’ve, uh...” Diane trailed off, looking at the other three for help.

“We’ve secured it,” Leo supplied.

Stacy raised an eyebrow. “That sounds a bit sketchy.”

“I know, I know.” Diane gave a nervous little laugh. “We, uh—i-it’s not illegal if it’s a monster, right? God, that just sounds even more sketchy, uh—”

“We tied it up,” Michael interrupted.

“Michael!”

“What? It’s what we did!” Michael put his hands on his hips. “We had some climbing rope from other stuff we did, so we used that. It was tied to a chair at first but a couple days ago it broke it so we had to improvise from there, luckily that’s our laundry room so there are a few exposed water pipes and stuff that we used. We’ve been waiting to see if it died of thirst or hunger so we haven’t—”

“You’re just making it sound worse, you know,” Rya muttered.

“It’s fine.” Stacy tried to give the four of them a reassuring smile, though she was sure it looked a little shaky. “I-if it keeps attacking you, you had to do something, right? I’ve seen some of these things that looked human, and I wouldn’t hesitate to tie them up.” There was a whispered grumble in her ear that she swore sounded offended. “Who goes in first?” she asked.

“I got it,” Mark said, taking out his hunting knife. “You back me up, since you got the long range.”

Leo muttered, “I can’t believe we might get Markiplier killed,” and Michael elbowed him and replied “Shut up, he’s offering to help,” and Rya hissed “We’ll go in after them if things go sideways, it’s fine,” and Diane shushed them all.

Stacy took her gun out of the holster, to quiet gasps from the four friends, and stood behind Mark as he slowly turned the doorknob and eased the door open. He looked back at her and raised his eyebrows. She nodded in response. She was more than ready. So he turned back and slowly walked into the room.

“be careful,” said a whisper in her ear. She didn’t acknowledge it and silently followed Mark.

It was an unremarkable basement room, with rough carpet, unpainted walls, and bare lightbulbs. Stacy dimly noticed the single window and the washer and dryer, but she didn’t pay them any mind. Her eyes first landed on the two sticks of splintered wood that might’ve once been a pair of chair legs. And then they were drawn to the figure huddled against the washer.

There was something... unexpected... about him.

A solid few seconds passed as Stacy tried to process what this unexpectedness was. The figure was a man, wearing a couple layers of clothing that completely hid his skin—most notably, a green jacket with fur around the hood. His hair and beard were dark brown. The left eye was closed while the right was open, revealing a dark iris and green sclera. Rope was wrapped around his torso, with his arms pinned behind his back. His ankles were tied together with yet more rope, and another length wrapped around his neck, tying it to an exposed pipe that fed into the washer. As Mark and Stacy walked into the room, the man shuddered, and opened his other eye. It was blue.

Stacy gasped and nearly dropped her gun. “John!”

Mark’s head whipped back towards her. “Wait, this is your friend?!”

“Y-yeah...” How had it taken her so long to notice? Was it because she never thought she’d find him here? Or was it because of something else?

Something clicked. The necklace around her neck unclasped itself and fell to the ground. Well, that was proof enough for her. She’d set out to find him, and now she had, so there was no need for it anymore.

“I told you... to forget about me...” said a weak voice. Again, it took Stacy a moment to realize John was speaking. But this time, it was because she never expected him to sound like that. So exhausted, words tinged with... Was that... grief?

“Stacy, are you sure?” Mark backed up a bit, until he and Stacy were about even, standing halfway between the door and John. “You said that weird glitch thing you fought changed appearances, right?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” Stacy insisted. “It was less... less stable. Somehow. I-I don’t know. But I know that this isn’t that, this is John.”

“Look, I met your friend a couple times, I swear he didn’t look like this,” Mark said.

John laughed. “Of course you would,” he muttered. “Mark, do you remember your friend Jack?”

Mark’s shoulders raised. “...why?”

“What if I said I was ÁÿËħż?”

Mark blinked, confused, and took another step backwards. “What?”

“I’m Ĺ×ĽŚļ.” John leaned forward. “I’m ÚÞõÎđ.” He paused, staring at Mark expectantly. “I’m āęãĩŰ.” Another pause. His breath shuddered. “I’m êŧŝŎ¾¯! I’m ŽÆėáņ, Mark! It’s me!”

Mark just stared at him. He glanced at Stacy and tightened his grip on his knife. “I-I don’t know what it’s trying to say,” he said quietly to her.

John laughed. “I can heeear you...” He leaned back again. His head hit the pipe with a dull thunk, but he didn’t so much as wince. “I don’t know why I try anymore...”

Stacy took a step forward. “John. I believe it’s you, but Mark’s going to be a bit hesitant, so I’m going to do a test. Do you know my son Larkin’s favorite video game? He plays it all the time on his Nintendo DS.”

John looked at her, something flickering in his eyes. “I thought Mathew was the one who played games. And I don’t think either of them have a DS, because you guys have a Switch, right?”

“Yeah.” Stacy gave a little laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m so glad—”

“That’s not a good test, though,” John interrupted, looking away from her. “What if you found something that changed shapes and read minds? There’s things out there like that.”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Well—”

“And even though it can’t read your mind, it’s already in mine,” John added quietly. “It knows anything I do. And more.”

Something squeezed her shoulder. She heard a hiss from behind her, but didn’t back down. In fact, she took another step closer. “...John. I know it’s you. A-and I know that—that the weird glitch thing got to you. It probably got to you a long time ago, but you got away, right?” John flinched. “But now it’s back. Because... because when it was going after Mathew, you said it could take you instead. I’ve figured that out, John. I-I don’t know anything beyond that. But I know it was probably hell on you. I... I want to help. Mark’s a bit freaked out, but he wants to help, too.” Probably. “Tell us what we can do.”

John’s mismatched eyes flicked to hers. He said something that should have been too quiet to hear. But Stacy heard it clear as day:

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said, slowly taking a few steps forward. “There has to be something—”

“Don’t get closer!” John shrieked, jerking forwards again.

She stopped. “There has to be a way out of this for you,” she continued.

A smile twisted John’s face. “Are you just saying that because then there might be a way out for you?”

Her heart dropped. The invisible grip on her shoulder tightened. “N... no. That’s not it at all, and—and what do you mean in the first place?”

“I can see it.” John’s eyes drifted, focusing on something just behind her. “It’s wanted you this whole time, and now it has you. Its claim is realized.” He bared his teeth in something that might have been a smile. “Do you think that will help?”

Stacy opened her mouth to respond, and then she felt something behind her shift, and realized he wasn’t talking to her. A voice murmured something that she couldn’t hear.

“Coward,” John spat. “Always hiding from view. Afraid of people facing you and realizing you’re nothing. Just a—” Suddenly he bent over, face going white. A strangled cough cut off what he was saying.

“John?” Stacy said hesitantly. She looked back at Mark—for support or ideas or something—but his eyes were fixed on John, his grip on the knife tight.

“Stacy.” John’s voice was hoarse. “Get out of here.”

“What?”

“Get out of here,” John repeated urgently, looking up at her. “Don’t get—please, I—” Blood trickled from his green eye. His body shook slightly, tremors all over.

“What?!” Stacy stepped forward again. She was only a couple feet from John now. “I’m not leaving you when you’re like this! I-I want to help.”

“H-help...? I-I...” John’s breathing was heavy. His arms jerked, only held in place by the rope. “Help... please—no! N-no, don’t—you c-c-can’t, I...please...”

“What can I do? Tell me what I can do!” Stacy urged, ignoring the whispers in her ears that wanted her to step away. Like hell she was going to listen to it. Like hell she was going to abandon her friend.

“Please... don’t...” John shuddered. “I-I want... h-help m—no! No! You can’t get—away, Stacy, please just—” Then it stopped. All color drained from his face as his eyes rolled back in his head and he suddenly slumped forward.

“John?” Stacy said quietly.

He didn’t stir. His breathing was strained. His eyelids fluttered and closed.

“John? John?!” she repeated.

That rope around his neck. He was leaning forward, stretching it taut, it was the only thing keeping him upright, all his weight pressed against—

Stacy dropped her gun and rushed towards him. He was going to choke!

“Stacy, no!” Mark shouted, hurrying after her.

She ignored him. She was just going to adjust John’s position a little bit, that’s all, it would be fine. He would be fine. Now beside him, she crouched down and reached out and pushed him back—

John’s eyes snapped open. He lurched forwards, head ducking downwards, faster than she would have thought possible. Pain pierced her arm. She shrieked and reflexively pulled her arm back. The pain intensified, tearing through her arm. Mark shouted, “Stacy!” and John laughed.

Stacy shot to her feet and staggered backwards, while Mark ran in front of her and held out his knife protectively. She looked down at her arm and saw blood. Thick trickles of blood coming from a ring in her skin. John was still laughing. She looked back up and saw his grinning teeth were coated in crimson.

A furious scream came from behind her.

Then the lights went out.

Something shoved Stacy aside, and she lost her balance, landing hard on the ground. “Stacy?!” Mark asked. “Where are you?”

“Here!” she replied. “H-hang on.” And she began feeling around the ground for her gun. She’d dropped it somewhere around here, right?

The air was a mix of sharp smells. The metallic scent of blood, and that distinct hot smell of a room full of electronics that had been running for too long, both mixed with a sharp alcoholic smell and a heavier scent she could only identify as “dusty.” She could still hear John laughing in the darkness—no, he wasn’t just laughing anymore. There were sobs mixed in there, and half-formed pleas. Beneath that, she heard loud CRACKs and THUDs. Like something solid being hit repeatedly.

There! Her hands wrapped around the handle of her gun and she scrambled to her feet. John’s laughter sounded oddly doubled. And she could hear more screams, oddly distant and present at the same time. They weren’t John’s or Mark’s or any of the four friends outside. They weren’t human. But they were very, very angry.

The lights flickered on briefly. She saw John, pressing himself into the corner where the washer met the wall. She saw Mark, standing, head turning wildly until his eyes landed on her. And she saw... shadows on the wall. Shadows of two figures. Maybe they were human. It was hard to tell, because the shadows were moving, violently throwing themselves at each other, grappling, fighting. She looked for the source of the shadows, but the lights flickered off again before she could tell where they came from.

Something grabbed her upper arm. She cried out and yanked it away. “Stacy, it’s me!” Mark’s voice said from nearby. “We have to get out of here!”

“Right.” Stacy scrambled to her feet, searching blindly with her hand for Mark again. She brushed against his arm, and the two of them eventually adjusted to hold each other’s hand. “Let’s go!” The CRACKs and THUDs were growing louder, as were the screams and one part of John’s doubled-laughing. She felt the floor shuddering with impacts.

They ran.

It was luck that they chose the right direction. Mark hit the door, then she did, and the two of them searched for the doorknob together. Mark found it first. He twisted it open and bolted outside, pulling her with him. As soon as they cleared the doorway he turned around and slammed it shut.

“What happened in there?!” It was Diane. Her and the other three were staring at them intently. “The door just shut suddenly! We couldn’t get it open!”

“We were about to break it down!” Leo added.

“Give us a minute guys.” Mark pressed a hand to his chest and leaned back against the wall. “That was... I don’t know what that was. Whatever that thing was, it looked like Stacy’s friend. It bit her, and then suddenly the lights went out—Stacy, are you alright?”

Stacy said nothing. She looked back down at her arm, at the blood coming from the injury. “...that was him,” she said quietly.

Mark stared at her. “Stacy...” he said gently, “that couldn’t have been John—”

“It was!” she shouted. “It’s just—it’s not just him! You heard what he said! It was in his mind! It’s—it’s possessing him!” She could see doubt on Mark’s face. “Don’t you judge me! Don’t say that’s not possible after all this! I’ve seen more fucked-up shit than that!”

“Stacy—” Mark started, again in that gentle voice.

“Don’t! Don’t!” Stacy shook her head. He was staring at her—these four strangers were staring at her, and every time she returned those stares she remembered more of their lives—terrible things, things she didn’t want to know! “I—I’m—I have to leave!” she shouted, then turned and ran up the stairs.

“Stacy!” Mark shouted after her. “Wait!”

But she didn’t stop. When she reached the top of the stairs, she headed straight out the nearby side entrance and into the afternoon air. Her eyes darted around, and she kept running. She turned and ran across the street, thankfully empty of cars, and through the neighborhood houses. She ran in between yards and across sidewalks, and only turned again when a car blocked the way. She ran until her legs screamed at her and her lungs wheezed with every breath. Only then did she stop running and collapse in the nearest patch of grass.

The sky above was a beautiful shade of blue, but there was a gathering of gray clouds at one end. It would probably rain soon. If it did, would she move? She didn’t know.

Stacy laid there for a long time, watching the clouds drift and the sun sink. She waited to be found. But nobody came.

Well... Mark didn’t, at least.

In between one blink and the next, she caught a glimpse of something moving. Dust tickled her nose, and a weight pressed down on her chest for a few seconds before disappearing.

“hey.”

Stacy closed her eyes. She knew it was too much to wish it wouldn’t find her again.

Slowly, she stood up and looked around. She had no idea where it was. Some neighborhood. What city was this? She couldn’t remember what exit they’d left the freeway on. It couldn’t be too hard to find out, though.

...now what?

Her stomach grumbled. Maybe she could figure out what to do next once she had some food in her. It was... the only thing she could think to do right now.

Picking a direction at random, she started to walk.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #antisepticeye #chase brody #brigid writes fanfiction #horrorseptics

6 notes · View notes