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#also known as The Mom Group Fic
mychemicalrachel · 11 months
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hiiiiiii 🌀 for the asks plz!
Hi, thanks so much for the ask! I love this question, it's so interesting because I don't usually write "summaries" for my fics. This as fun! 💞💞
🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...
Single father Ronan Lynch is comfortable. He's got a great daughter and the best of friends, a job he doesn't hate. Sure, life didn't turn out exactly how he thought it would, but by the time thirty rounds the corner, he's comfortable. Content. Happy.
When newly divorced Adam Parrish moves to town with his son, both of them looking for a new start, Ronan is immediately taken by his Southern charm. Love at first sight, like something straight out a romance novel the ladies in Ronan's bookclub love... and he's not the only one to notice.
There's nothing quite like a group of middle aged meddling moms and the holidays to make two people fall in love.
[Wip ask game]
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joonsytip · 3 months
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Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue
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Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au
Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.
Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive
Word Count: 5.7k
Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue
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You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.
Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.
Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.
You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.
The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.
A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.
When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.
Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.
"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.
"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."
Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."
"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.
Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"
"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.
Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.
Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.
In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.
"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."
Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."
Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"
Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."
"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.
"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."
Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.
Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.
Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.
But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.
His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.
Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.
The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night  the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.
His heart only beats for you.
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"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."
You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.
"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."
You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."
Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."
You're neither surprised nor disappointed.
Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.
Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.
You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--
Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.
"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."
"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."
"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.
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Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.
So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.
When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.
His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.
"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.
Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.
"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.
Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.
"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."
"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."
"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"
"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."
Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.
"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."
"Do I deserve--"
Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.
"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"
Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.
In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.
"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"
Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.
When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.
Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."
After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.
There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.
Hey Cherry,
I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.
Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.
Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.
Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.
Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.
Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.
You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.
The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.
Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.
Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).
As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.
Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.
From,
Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)
Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.
There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?
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You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.
"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."
All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.
"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."
"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.
Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."
"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."
"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."
"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."
"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.
The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.
"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."
At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.
It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.
You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.
It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.
When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.
"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.
"Y/N..."
You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."
Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.
Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.
"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.
"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.
"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.
As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."
"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.
"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."
While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."
Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.
"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."
You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.
"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."
"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."
Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."
His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."
You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."
"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."
You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"
Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."
You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.
There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.
Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"
Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.
Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."
Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."
You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.
"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."
Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.
"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.
But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."
He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.
'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'
You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."
Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."
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The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.
Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.
The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.
Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.
"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."
"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."
Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.
"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.
"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."
"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."
"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."
"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."
"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.
"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"
"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"
You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."
You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."
"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."
You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."
As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.
Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.
If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.
Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.
You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.
To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.
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wndaswife · 8 months
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(fic request) pls write this w nun!wanda (if you want) 😵😵😵
to worship and submit | wanda maximoff & fem!reader
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Being the daughter of the man that leads the church choir means attending the services when you run out of excuses to be anywhere else, but a young woman who's recently joined the parish to become a nun has begun to make your time there worthwhile.
Word count: 7419
Tags: smut, fluff, humour, sacrilege, quite literally fucking in front of a crucifix, even i feel slightly guilty for writing it, strap-ons, rough sex, spanking, slapping, spitting, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader | MINORS DNI
A/N: SO... i did do some research for this fic... but only SOME... meaning some of the info may be incorrect fyi!!!
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gif credit to evilly
Every Sunday since your dad joined the church as their choir leader, you’d been making yourself busy in advance just in case he’d ask if you wanted to come to the services. 
You were proud of your dad — really, you were — because he loved music and loved the community the church brought him, and the church was closeby to where your mom worked as an elementary school teacher, so your parents were able to work together when there were community events that involved both the school and the church.
Though, being happy for your dad didn’t mean you also had to be happy when he invited you to the services.
Sometimes you’d attend special occasions like Easter and other holidays and church events wherein your dad prepared his own assortment of music and such for the choir to play, but only because you were there to support him and what he was passionate about — music and community and his family.
Such events were big deals at the church he volunteered at because it was well-known for its large community; the church itself was closely connected to a nearby convent where it had close ties to the nunnery there, as well as having one of if not the most ornate architecture all preserved within a historically-significant religious landmark.
But for the last few weeks, he hadn’t asked you to go with him because he was so busy with the new influx of students joining from the Catholic elementary school your mom worked at; they were all there singing on the weekends for their volunteer hours, but at the very least, your dad said they were still enthusiastic and friendly kids.
So on the morning of one of the very rare occasions in which you hadn’t had anything planned for the Sunday because you weren’t expecting him to invite you as he hadn’t for the last while, your dad invited you to the service.
You could’ve truly made up an excuse and flat-out lied about being busy, but it’d been a while since he asked and you knew he’d been working hard with the new students in his group, so you supposed it wasn’t so much trouble to accept his offer, even if you did groan it out in a superficial fit about having to get out of bed earlier.
It wasn’t that you not being religious had anything major to do with avoiding going to church, because you didn’t entirely mind when your religious parents brought you to the services for special occasions, but rather because you didn’t very much have the patience or sufficient concern for the readings and worship to attend the nearly-two-hour services.
That was truly your most pressing issue with attending the Sunday services with your dad, but today was different, with an unexpected experience to make you dread going even more than you did previously.
“Excuse me?” a timid, unfamiliar voice chirped from behind you.
You turned to see a young woman standing by the doorway of the back hall where the entrance to the choir balcony was. 
Typically, you sat around there when your dad was conducting because you weren’t very involved in the church enough to sit at the pews nor were you part of the choir. 
But from where you were sitting, you weren’t entirely uninvolved as you could still see and hear the services — it was the perfect spot. 
“You aren’t allowed to sit here,” the young woman told you, running the pads of her two fingers along the edge of her sleeve. 
Her dark brown hair was neatly pulled back into a conservative bun and she was wearing a black plain dress with a modest plain scoop neckline to show the buttons and collar of the crisply-ironed long-sleeved white blouse underneath that all of the church’s nuns wore, but the simplicity of her outfit and the uncovering of her hair meant to you that she was presently studying at the church to become a nun. 
“I’m the choir dude’s daughter,” you said with a polite smile and looked away, expecting for your response to be all the elaboration she needed. 
In a way that was subtle with the intention not to be offensive but in that very manner was offensive in itself because of how irritating her caution was, the woman cleared her throat. 
“I-I know,” she pressed, “but this area isn’t open for seating. For anyone.”
When you didn’t answer for a moment as you stared at her, she quickly said, “I’m sorry. They told me to tell you.”
“I’ll find a spot in the pews,” you answered and collected your things. 
From the corner of your eye, it seemed that she wanted to offer a seating alternative just to make up for what she was forced to tell you, but there wasn’t very much else she could offer. 
That Thursday, you were back at the church to pick up an ironed uniform for your dad; it was for a special event set for the upcoming Sunday, and the church pressed it for him and everything. 
It was a nice gesture.
They were nice people.
On Thursdays, there were only morning services and events for children in another spacious room where they could colour and play with the church’s team leaders and nuns. 
But in the afternoon — which it now was — there wasn’t anything going on. 
When you arrived, the church was still and warm with gentle sunlight shining through the stained glass windows and casting a myriad of colours against the pews. 
You looked over your dad’s text again and walked through the directions he told you to take to get to the back halls of the church, just a few turns from the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. 
The room where you were to pick up the uniform was as pretty as the rest of the church; it was a small prayer room with a pedestal and stained windows and red carpeting, but it was much cozier and probably hadn’t been used for prayer for the group size it was designed for in a little while.
You could see through the glass door the folded uniform for your dad on the windowsill behind the pedestal with a name tag placed on top of it ready for pick-up along with a few other clothes for some other church volunteers. 
Upon entry, you closed the door quietly behind you and stepped into the room where you could now see a small table by the window and a familiar young woman sitting with a notebook, jotting a few things down from what looked like a leather-bound book. 
“Can I just get my dad’s uniform from there, or do I need to sign it off or something?” you asked, announcing your presence. 
She looked up from the notebook and at you then to the uniforms on the windowsill. 
“Oh, you’re…” She paused and thought for a moment. “The choir conductor’s daughter?”
“Yeah.”
“I can sign it off for you,” she replied and smiled. 
She stood from the table and walked around it to the uniforms, where a piece of paper was set beside the line of neatly-folded clothes.
You watched as she jotted down a few things onto the paper with a pen before carefully picking up the packaged uniform and turning to hand it to you.
“Thank you,” you answered. 
“Of course. Have a good day,” she replied and bid you a goodbye before heading back to the table by the window. 
You were on the way to leave the room, but you couldn’t, for some odd reason, take your eyes away from the way she lowered herself into her seat and resumed her notetaking. 
She didn’t notice when you changed your direction and walked towards the table she was sitting at until you were perhaps just a metre away from her, when she then looked up from her notes and up at you. 
“Did I give you the wrong uniform?” she asked, worried and now standing up from her chair. 
“No,” you answered quickly and waved your hand.
She stayed standing, curious as to why you walked back. 
“Hard at work?” you asked, pointing at her notebook. 
Confused for a moment, perhaps by your curiosity in speaking with her, she looked over to her notebook and then back at you with a friendly smile, “Yes, a little. They gave me something to study from. I’m just taking notes.”
Carefully, you reached forward and spun her notebook around so you could read it. 
Her curiosity seemed to spike when you leaned forward to read her notes, and she looked at you with a small smile. 
“Um,” she started awkwardly. “I want to apologise for earlier this week. For making you move seats.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” you replied and looked up from her notes to smile at her reassuringly. “I know they just made you tell me because you’re new.”
The young woman seemed reassured, her shoulders even relaxing a bit when you said it. 
“You’re still… What do you call it? Like, you’re studying to be a nun here? Not fully one yet?”
She shook her head. 
“Yes, I’m in the study period before becoming a novitiate,” she answered. 
Your fingers ran over her delicate handwriting, feeling the indentations of her pen against the paper.
“To worship and submit,” you read aloud from the notebook. “Fascinating.”
She caught onto your twinge of sarcasm but approached it with humour, laughing a little and conceding, “It is a bit medieval, but an important quality, I’d presume.”
Reflecting suddenly on how young the woman seemed much younger than the other nuns, you asked her, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
She was a bit older than you, but still quite young.
Her hair was down now, though still neatly brushed and free of frizz and tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and an ankle-length black skirt patterned lightly with gardenias. 
“How did you get into wanting to be a nun, anyhow?” you asked and moved your attention away from the notebook and towards her. “You don’t seem like the type.”
“I-I don’t?” she inquired, almost sounding nervous at the implication that she wasn’t training herself properly. 
“I mean, pious and submissive — sure,” you said, referring to her notes, which made her seem a bit flustered, “but not like a nun.”
She questioned curiously, “More like…?”
After humming aloud in thought, you turned to her with your hip laying against the edge of the table and suggested, “Elementary school teacher. Vet. I don’t know, something like that.”
She was pretty — truly. 
Cute, even. 
“When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet,” she told you, smiling sweetly. 
“Changed your mind?”
“Younger as in quite young, perhaps around ten,” she recalled. “My parents are both rather religious and ever since I turned fourteen it’s always been their intention to have me join a congregation.”
Interest piqued, you asked, “And your intention for yourself was…?”
“For myself?” she repeated as if taken by surprise. 
You nodded once. 
She paused for a moment to hum thoughtfully before saying, “I was happy to follow whichever path my parents intended for me.”
“You find passion in nunnery?” you asked. “Genuine question — not judging.”
“Of course,” she answered. 
Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you quickly checked it to see that your dad had messaged asking if you were able to pick up his uniform.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been holding you back from something,” the woman apologised and stepped to the side to allow you to leave.
Sliding your phone back into your pocket and adjusting your dad’s uniform in your hand, you replied, “No, not at all. My dad’s just impatient. I should get going now though, since here’s a few errands I have to run before noon.”
She nodded in understanding. 
“It was nice being able to talk with you,” she then said. “I haven’t been able to talk with very many people since I came here. It’s all just been about studying and the church.”
Before you left, you made sure to ask for her name, to which she replied telling you it was ‘Wanda.’
Cute name.
It’d been quite a while since you ever attended the services two weeks in a row. The last you did was during the last half of August the first year your dad started conducting the church choir, during which you had nothing else to do but wait for classes to start — so you went to the services.
This time, because the church was celebrating something special, your dad asked both you and your mother to attend the service because he’d been working on preparing a set of songs for the occasion.
Under the guise of being a supportive daughter, your parents didn’t second guess why you were so willing to attend the service this week, nor did they ask if there was a certain individual you were perhaps a bit excited to see again.
Truthfully, you couldn’t stop thinking of Wanda since you last saw her a few days ago. There was much to her you felt laid dormant and sleeping, awakened only just in the slightest during the conversation you had with her. She was kind and curious, but also painfully naive. 
She was a few years older than you but knew far less about the truth of her own ambitions and strayed perhaps not even a foot’s distance away from behind her parents’ shadows.
Wanda was interesting, but intrigued you for far too long for her to be only that. Though you couldn’t very well figure out what it was about her that made her bounce around in your head like a pinball until an unassuming evening.
It was sincerely an unrelated act when you first started, travelling your hand down between your legs in the silence of the evening to relieve yourself of the pent-up stress from classes that’d come over you during the last few days.
Truly, it was completely unrelated to Wanda and anything and everything about her when you started, and even during, until you reached your peak of release and found your imagination flashing with curiosities about what she looked like under her garments, how she’d squeal if you spanked her ass and if she’d like it, or how she’d cry out in sheer pleasure if you forced her down and made her take her spankings regardless.
For a moment afterwards there was guilt, but every day onwards there was curiosity, wondering for hours about what you’d seen when you reached that point of pleasure during which Wanda was your only muse.
You’d like to tell yourself it was only that curiosity that guided your willingness to attend the service with your parents, but it was something else entirely too — something completely carnal.
For the first hour of the service, Wanda was still nowhere to be seen. Because of the church’s connections with its convent, the nuns had a large role in some of the day-to-day happenings, but mostly during important church events like what you were presently attending.
Wanda wasn’t a nun yet; she was yet to be even a novitiate as she had mentioned, and so perhaps she just didn’t get to attend events like these. 
Though you personally found that counter-productive, you weren't one to complain about the convent’s decisions, but you did wish you got to see Wanda.
If she wasn’t one to be able to attend such events, when would you see her next?
After coming to the realisation that you probably just weren’t going to see her today or perhaps even for a little while, you excused yourself after having been present for nearly all of your dad’s song arrangements and with enough time to be able to be back from the washroom with well-enough time to catch the rest of his songs.
To your surprise, you saw the very woman who’d been on your mind for the last hour was sitting in the hall by the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. She was wearing the same outfit as she had been the first time you met her, with her hair done up in the same way too.
“Excuse me, but you aren’t allowed to sit here,” you teased, approaching from the right and walking into the hallway.
She quickly swiped at her eyes and began to apologise before she raised her head and saw it was you who had spoken to her, and you who now stood beside the bench she was sitting on.
Though she smiled and seemed relieved and happy to see you, you could tell that she’d just been crying — alone in this hallway away from the service and the nuns and sitting at the far end of the bench so as not to be seen by the people attending the mass.
Wanda stood, running her palms down the sides of her dress with a friendly smile while saying, “You’re here.”
“Yeah,” you answered distractedly as you focused on the slight redness of her eyes and the tip of her nose. 
You then asked once you were sure she’d been crying, “Are you okay?”
Suddenly feeling self-conscious after realising it must've been obvious that she’d been crying, Wanda carefully wiped under her eyes again and even tried making herself seem less dishevelled by tucking her hair behind her ears before you took her hands away from her face and made her stop fidgeting with her appearance.
“Seriously, what’s wrong?” you pressed.
Dismissively as to not bring any more attention to herself, she told you, “It’s really nothing. It’s nothing to bother you with.”
“I wanna be bothered,” you answered lightheartedly. “Come on.”
Wanda smiled at your gaiety and you urged her to tell you what was wrong once more before she finally exhaled in surrender though she didn’t sit down before speaking, implying that in spite of the fact of giving in to you, she wasn’t very well planning on delving too deep into what had been bothering her.
“Earlier today, I had accidentally misplaced the leather book I’d been studying from — the one you saw me with a few days prior, if you can remember,” she said. “And I was scolded terribly for it. It was quite deserving as it was an important collection of notes and such, so I do not question from where my scolding had come, but it seems to me that all I’ve done since I started here is get myself in trouble with the other nuns.”
Here, you tried taking her hand and urging her to sit down, but she wouldn’t, and slipped her fingers out of your hold.
“They found the book in one of the small prayer rooms I’d been studying in, so at the very least it was not a mistake of ruining the integrity of the book by losing it completely, but rather the very principle of having been given something so important and misplacing it,” she continued.
Wanda swallowed and seemed to be contemplating whether to go into more detail, and you could tell that there was something else that had been bothering her that didn’t exactly have to do with misplacing the book.
Before she had the chance to make a decision, there was a passerby who came from the service in search of the restrooms, which interrupted Wanda’s train of thought as she and the man exchanged a brief hello.
“We can go somewhere else,” you offered, taking her hand and heading down the hallway with her. She didn’t take her hand away from you this time, but instead told you that she only needed time to be on her own and that she was fine now. 
The only other place you knew was the prayer room you picked your dad’s uniform up in, and fortunately it was unlocked.
You ushered Wanda into the room and she smiled at you from behind and you led her forward to one of the front seats in front of the altar, regarding you with admiration for the effort you put into wanting to express your concern for her and make sure she felt heard. 
The early morning beams of light shone through the stained glass like they had that afternoon you’d come here a few days prior, but the room was far less stuffy now, familiar and almost reminiscent of something nostalgic. 
The feeling could easily be because of the fact that you’d been envisioning what you could remember from it nearly every hour since that past Thursday, with the room in the background of your mental portrait of Wanda. 
She settled down in the seat beside you, feeling encouraged more so because she wanted now to be closer to you rather than solely to sit and talk about what had been bothering her. 
But she could partake in the latter if that was what you asked of her — and it was. 
“I know that I hardly know you, but I’ve been here for nearly a whole month and you are the person I feel closest to,” she confessed.
You felt flattered, though you knew telling you that she felt close to you wasn’t exactly the point of why she said that. 
Wanda further reflected aloud, “I’m getting nowhere I’m supposed to, not finding the call to God like both my parents and the nuns told me about though I have even given it plenty of time. I studied English in college and yet can find not even a little interest in my religious readings.”
While she thought in silence for a moment, you didn’t interrupt her. 
When she found the words to verbalise what she’d been meaning to say, she began with a question: “Do you remember when you asked what my own intentions were for myself? On Thursday?”
You nodded. 
“It’s ridiculous, but I can’t even recall the last time I sincerely asked that to myself, but perhaps in shallower terms, such as wondering where I might be in a few years or what I might do with my time in the convent.
“But never what I wanted — never who I wanted to be.”
After a moment, when you were sure she wasn’t trying to find words to express herself nor contemplating whether to say something, you asked, “And do you know who you want to be?”
For a brief moment — half of one, really — Wanda looked thoughtful, and then she said and gestured to her clothing and the prayer room, “Not this.”
“So then, what?” you inquired further. 
You teased, “A vet?”
Wanda giggled and sat back a bit in her seat. “Perhaps if I were ten,” she said. 
Then more seriously, she added, “But now, I’m not very sure.”
“How did you come to realise what you were interested in?” Wanda asked. “For example, your studies. What are you studying?”
She was talking fast, obviously very invested in your conversation together and also rather curious about you. 
You thought that was cute; you liked Wanda. 
“I’m studying philosophy,” you told her to which she straightened and was eager to hear more about. “But with studies, it’s different, because you’re talking about more personal matters. Academics are far different from personal paths.”
Wanda seemed a bit disappointed because she was looking for a definite answer, but what you explained certainly made sense to her. 
She pondered about something then instead asked, “So about personal matters, then. What about those?”
“What about them?”
“Give me a principle to follow,” she sought. “Something I might be able to apply here. Something as general as you’d like it to be, but applicable.”
Her steadily growing smile made it clear that though she was certainly looking for advice, she also thoroughly enjoyed exchanging quips with you and exploring more about you. 
In a way, she was as eager to learn about you than how to help herself, if not more so. 
You hummed thoughtfully and Wanda watched as you were deep in thought. 
“A principle for you,” you said, “could easily be that it’s okay to be selfish, to think only of yourself when you’ve spent so long doing anything else.”
Wanda asked, slightly amused but far more curious, “You recommend hedonism?” 
“To you?”
She nodded. 
You replied, “Indubitably.”
If you hadn’t already been thinking of Wanda in painfully great amounts before that morning, then you certainly were afterwards. 
The third week came around and by then Wanda was banging against every square inch of your skull like an intruder, necessitating the need to be seen and thought of every other minute in any way you could.
Perhaps the relationship you developed with her thus far was one of friendship and nothing more, yet her persistence that never strayed too far from your mind seemed to you that she had become reminiscent of something greater than a platonic figure. 
In any case, you had to muster the ability to ask your dad in the most nonchalant manner you could if it were possible for you attend Sunday’s service. 
You did it in a way that did not make it seem to him that you were about to become a familiar face in the church, but rather that someone had simply happened to ask you for help during the last service and wondered if you might be able to attend the next — which is quite literally what you told him. 
It wasn’t a lie. 
Not even when you said that it was a young woman who was studying to become a novitiate at the convent that was curious about the choir and the other volunteers and had asked you about it last week, because Wanda did truly ask about the choir and the other people who volunteered at the church once. 
But that wasn’t at all the reason why you wanted to attend the service that Sunday. 
“Y/N,” a voice called in a hushed tone when you passed the hallway leading up to the choir stairway where your dad had already walked up towards. 
You slipped away from the people filing into the pews and quickly came to Wanda’s side. 
“Don’t you have places to be aside from fraternising with the guests?” you teased as she took your wrist and led you towards the room you both seemed to like talking in the most. 
“After last week’s ordeal with the book, I’ve been put on some kind of probation from participating in the services so I have more time to study independently,” she told you, not seeming particularly worried.
She added, “On Sundays, the convent is rather empty, so they wouldn’t notice that I’m off not studying. Though I could very well say I chose to study in one of the extra prayer rooms here.”
“And I’m sure they remember how much you love the prayer rooms here,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows at your reference to her having lost the book in one of them. 
Wanda faked a laugh in the driest manner you’d ever heard and you nudged her arm to which she told you to stop joking around with her so she could tell you something important. 
She closed the prayer room door and sat you down beside her. 
From a small bag on the chair to her left, she pulled out a small dictionary. 
Here, you were tempted to make fun of her and ask why she was carrying around a dictionary so tiny, but you recalled that she had wanted to ask you about something serious. 
She flipped open to a page she had bookmarked. 
“Hedonism,” she read aloud. “In philosophy, the belief that pleasure and the absence of pain is the most important principle in determining the morality of an action.”
Wanda looked up at you from the dictionary. “This is what you meant?” she asked. 
You nodded. 
Curiously, you inquired, “Do you agree with it?”
She looked back down to the page in which had written three definitions of hedonism, the third being the one defined by philosophy. 
The first two you could not quite read upside down. 
“I have never heard of it in such detail before the time you mentioned it last week,” she said, running her eyes over the words in contemplation, “but it’s interesting.”
“What would be your first endeavour to pleasure, if you had to make a guess?” you asked her.
Wanda ran over the words of the definition again with her eyes, perhaps still deep in thought about it or absently doing so while she contemplated an answer to your question. 
“My first?” she repeated. 
You looked down at the dictionary page now that she was holding it at a slightly different angle that oriented the letters better for you. 
The first definition read, ‘Pursuit of pleasure.’
And the second — you had to tip your head to the side a bit to decipher it — read, ‘Sensual self-indulgence.’
During your deep concentration, Wanda had come to an answer to your question, and it wasn’t until she leaned forward and kissed your unsuspecting lips that you realised she had even stopped looking at the page. 
It was the uttering of her muffled words against your lips that triggered something deep within you, perhaps equally as restrained as her own. 
An unfinished sentence, but one on its own nonetheless. 
‘I want…’ she had uttered, breathless and with one hand cupping your cheek and feeling with the pads of her fingers the softness of your skin. 
With that, you hastily reached forward and grasped at her ass, lifting her from her seat and stripping her down so she was in nothing but her undergarments. 
The paths of your nails streaked red against her pale skin while you devoured her every step of the way, your lips following every inch of skin that became exposed to you while your hands made quick work of unzipping her dress and unbuttoning her blouse. 
She sighed when you kissed her breasts and squeezed your hands around her waist and hips, taking her selfishly and finally spreading her legs and sitting her down in your lap. 
“Are you…” you began between breaths, pausing to figure out your wording and sitting back in your seat to look at her. “Have you had sex?”
Wanda giggled, finding your question amusing. “Of course I have,” she replied and took your hands and placed them on her hips again. 
“Cocky,” you jested, hooking your thumb under the clasp of her bra and releasing it so it snapped against her back, causing her to arch her body into you with a soft gasp. “Thought you might’ve been abstinent or something.”
“I don’t mean to be cocky,” she said in a low voice. “But I am certainly not abstinent.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“Only if you choose to be.”
“I choose to be,” you said with conviction. “So for whom should I be jealous, then?”
“College students.”
You gasped superficially.
“You fuck college students? Exclusively?”
“No!” she laughed. “I mean I haven’t been very active since my time in college.”
“Haven’t had sex since college?”
She corrected, “I didn’t mean that either.”
“So what did you mean?”
“This conversation is like pulling teeth.”
“Why? You want me to fuck you hard against this floor right now, baby?” you asked. The very crudeness of your words, albeit teasing, made Wanda’s breath hitch, and so within that reaction you found her first tell. “No foreplay or anything?”
“This isn’t foreplay?”
“Hardly.”
“Then what is?” she asked though sounding slightly pouty about it. 
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re all turned on and impatient from just that. Teasing gets you off?” you pressed. “Didn’t even have to be told how I wanna see your gorgeous ass bruise when I fuck your cunt from behind like you’re my sick little fucktoy whore?”
Her hips twitched. 
“Y/N…” she muttered, perhaps out of impatience or forewarning for how you were teasing her, either way you could not tell and weren’t very rushed in trying to figure it out. 
You pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts, slapping it lightly with your fingers and causing her to gasp before pinching one of her sensitive pink buds. 
There would be no indulging her past what you were willing to indulge; you were careful not to touch her more than what was intentional. 
You bucked your hips up under the guise of adjusting your seating, grinding your stiff cock against the soaking panties which were now beginning to soak your pants. 
Her cunt was sensitive beyond the thin fabric, causing the strap to rub her perfectly through her soft, swollen folds; you could practically hear how sticky she was without even looking. 
“What is that?” she quickly asked, looking down between her thighs. She tried moving back to get a better look, but you quickly held onto her hip with your other hand and pulled her harshly back to her original position, making her throbbing clit rub directly onto your cock. 
A strangled yelp was breathed past her lips. 
“Don’t move unless I tell you to, you understand?” you told her. 
She nodded.
“Everywhere else in this building, there is only one God, but here in this room, I am yours. You will listen to what I tell you and take what I give you, even if it hurts. You’ll be grateful that I make you hurt as much as you will when I give you pleasure.”
In spite of everything, Wanda repressed a tiny smile and said, “You’re scary when you’re authoritative with me.”
You laughed through your nose and replied, “I can get scarier.”
Her smile widened into a grin and Wanda’s hand came to the back of your neck when you leaned forward and kissed her, one arm circling around her waist and carefully slipping her off your lap as you stood from your seat. 
“We’ll get caught,” she voiced concern against your lips.
“Then be the lookout.” 
You made sure she didn’t trip on her way up to the podium, and soon you had her chest laid flat against the lectern and facing the front doors, the shadow of the large crucifix behind the both of you casted against the red carpet from the morning sun shining from behind the stained glass. 
Wanda listened as you unzipped your pants and when she made an attempt to turn her head and look at what you were doing, you put your other hand against her upper back and pressed her back down, reducing her line of sight to your face and shoulder and nothing else. 
Her clothed cunt was prodded at, the stiff tip of your strap finding her hole through her panties and nudging at it teasingly. She groaned impatiently and reached back to take hold of your hand, to grab onto anything and urge you forward.
In response, you spanked her harshly and made Wanda yelp out in surprise and wince.
“You dirty, impatient slut,” you spat.
She immediately whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy.”
That satisfied something in you that you hadn’t even known you wanted, and you were more than happy to share in that satisfaction.
You hummed and tucked a finger under the waistband of Wanda’s panties, making her twitch impatiently while also doing her best to listen to her orders. Then you laid your hand flat against her lower back, rubbing her supportively and making a warm flush form across her face.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Wanda?” you asked, looking up her bent-over half-naked body to the back of her head.
She nodded.
“Good girl,” she confirmed with a nod.
Gently, you squeezed her ass and danced your fingers up to the waistband of her panties that you finally pulled down, exposing her gorgeous, glistening cunt.
It took just as much resistance from you not to shove your cock right into her as much as it took Wanda to not thrust her hips back and grind her clit against your strap.
“Why don’t you tell me all you’ve been studying about the last little while?” you said, running a hand down her ass and sliding a thumb into her pussy, feeling heaps of pride with the way you slipped inside with no resistance. 
She was incredibly wet and so, so warm.
Distracted by the way your thumb probed shallowly at her hole, giving her just enough pleasure to make her throb but just short of enough to satisfy her entirely, it took Wanda a few moments to regain her focus before she finally asked, “S-Studying? About what?”
“You’re a smart girl, Wanda,” you encouraged, slowly sliding your thumb out and grazing the pad of it lightly over her swollen slit and across the hood of her clit. “Methods on how to be a proper nun. For example, swear yourself to the Lord, abstain from sex, so on and so forth.”
Wanda swallowed and tried her best to focus with the way your thumb began spreading her cunt out, revealing to you the glistening folds of her pussy. She began stuttering and finally squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to be able to recall some of her studies.
“Um, there was…” she uttered and ran her fingers along the edge of the wooden lectern, “living in modesty; not showing off one’s body in any crude manner, not partaking in pleasures of the flesh.”
Three of your fingers began rubbing slow circles against Wanda’s hole, squelching against her dripping cunt and making her tremble and moan shakily.
“And what next?” you asked.
“I-I can’t… Can’t focus…” she told you helplessly.
Your thumb flicked at her clit and Wanda’s body jerked forward. 
“One more,” you urged. “Come on. Give me one more good one and I’ll fuck you with my cock. You want that, don’t you?”
Intentionally, you began to focus on her clit now, having your index finger graze it as your middle and ring finger slowly began delving in and out of her sticky hole, purposefully making it even more difficult for Wanda to find the words for herself.
“I want… I want that,” she shuddered, hanging her head and squeezed her eyes shut again.
“So, then, give me one more.”
Wanda’s breathing deepened as she tried her hardest to focus. 
With every intention to make it more difficult for her, you reached up with your other hand and pulled her bra down, allowing you access to knead her breast and feel her nipple harden against the palm of your hand.
She whimpered into her arm and bit down on her bottom lip.
You stepped forward and removed your fingers from her cunt to rub the length of your strap through her pussy, wet fingers taking hold of its base and running it through her swollen folds.
“A-Ah, Y/N, please…” she mewled, though neither of you were quite sure whether she was begging for you to stop and allow her to think thoroughly or for you to have mercy on her completely and just fuck her.
“One more,” you reiterated and aligned the tip of your cock with her entrance. 
You placed both hands on her hips and began pulling her backwards, fucking her shallowly and watching her pussy take your cock with just as much anticipation as Wanda was struggling to withhold.
She hugged around you beautifully and it was truly only the tip; you couldn’t wait another moment to fuck her until she was begging for you to fuck her until it hurt.
“A-Another,” she finally trembled out, “is to be, by nature, a woman of submission, to worship your God and seek no amount of personal domination over–”
Fully satisfied with her answer and terribly impatient yourself, your fingernails dug into Wanda’s hips and you jerked her ass back against you, forcing her to take your entire cock in one swift movement.
She cried out and you wrapped a hand around her waist, running your nails down her side and feeling an inexplicable need to mark her, to cause her pain, to reduce her to a whimpering trembling, bruised mess so cock-drunk that all she’d feel for the next three days is the aftermath of being rough-fucked like a slut.
“Hit me, please, daddy,” she begged, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the lectern and arching her back.
So you did — repeatedly. 
You spanked Wanda over and over, having the sound of your palm meeting her ass echo through the room and only reiterating to the both of you how she was much less of a nun or a student or any reflection of purity, but a braindead nympho whore good for nothing but getting her pussy fucked raw.
She was a loud fuck, crying out in whimpers and moans and other strings of partially-comprehensible words telling you how good your cock felt and how much she loved getting fucked by you.
The playing organs and belting choir playing during the service muffled Wanda out, but Jesus Christ, if any of them out there had been able to hear her getting fucked down the hallway, they might just think for a moment that it was the calling of an angel or at least something in some way divine.
But none of them would ever know what it looked like to fuck Wanda from behind, pulling her up with their hand around her neck so you had access to slap her face and spit into her mouth like you could, pinching her clit and fucking her through to her third orgasm.
How beautiful she looked, sweaty and a mess with her long brown hair fanned out and stuck in strands against her back, crying out in equal parts pain and pleasure and finding herself incredibly pleased by being used like a filthy object.
And you’d make sure no one else could get the chance to see the sight but you.
“I’m gonna come again, Y/N,” she cried, breasts pressed against the cold wood of the lectern and arms pressed against her back. “This is my last, please, I can’t take anymore.”
You let go of her wrists and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the lectern. She was arched at a slight angle so your arm could assist in continuing to fuck her, but she was now much closer, and she was now able to loll her head back against your shoulder.
“This is the closest thing a slut like you will ever get to heaven, angel,” you told her, kissing her temple. “Make your God proud and come on my cock, filthy bitch.”
Wanda reached back and held onto you for support while her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting as a silent cry escaped her, her third and final orgasm coming over her without mercy.
You squeezed at her breast and leaned your head down and bit at her shoulder and up the back of her neck, getting in as many markings of your ownership as you could.
She sighed out and uttered your name, to which you ran your hands up her stomach, one hand moving up to her face and gently tilting her head over so you could kiss her lips.
Her knees buckled out and you carefully set her down on the floor before sitting down beside her. Wanda panted heavily into your chest, one hand on your knee and the other arm wrapped around your shoulder. 
You had your arms around her waist, rubbing her back supportively and whispering in her ear words upon words of how beautiful she looked, how good she’d been for you, then soon confessing how much you’d been thinking of her over the last few weeks, how much of your mind she occupied and how much of your time you spent thinking of her.
Wanda liked hearing that last part most, but she particularly enjoyed when you told her how it felt to masturbate to her, to imagine her looking up at you and choking on your cock at your final point of release, and how really being with her was plenty more enjoyable and, quite frankly, more beautiful than you ever could’ve fantasised about on your own. 
The both of you were on your knees, sweaty with the labour of sex and kneeling in each other’s arms at the foot of the towering crucifix, whispering and giggling to each other all the equally sweet and dirty confessions you could exchange before the service was over.
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jakeshands · 1 year
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stars will fall
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pairing, park sunghoon x fem! reader
synopsis, you’ve had a crush on park sunghoon for the longest time. all you’ve ever wanted was sunghoon to notice you, or at least pick you out of the dozen other girls throwing themselves at his feet. you can’t believe it takes a zombie apocalypse for him to notice you.
genre, zombie apocalypse au, aouad au, strangers (?) to lovers, mutual pining to lovers
warnings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, swearing, lots of death, minor character death, open/ambiguous ending, reader gets cut with a knife, lots of mentions of blood, stabbing, mentions of guns.
word count, 16.4k
author’s note, heavily inspired by all of us are dead, like there might be some similiar scenes from aouad in this fic😨 please enjoy reading this it was A Lot To Write. i also watched a the last of us gameplay while writing this…so theres some tlou influence in this fic as well. maybe i’ll write a tlou au who knows?! also this fic is heavily unedited, pls mind my mistakes Lol! this fic is for daphne, ily the hoonerz to my jake🫶🫶
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Your life is like a wave brushing against the shoreline. It’s full of routine. It’s full of gentle actions and gentle words. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your life isn’t remarkable; you spend your days at school and in your apartment with your mother. You spend nights eating at the chicken restaurant your friend’s parents own. You study until you pass out. Rinse and repeat.
Your life is like a steady wave brushing against the shoreline. It’s a natural occurrence. You stay in the routine you’ve known your whole life. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast with your mom, walk with Seeun to school, sit next to Kim Sunoo and listen in on his conversations hoping you’ll hear a word about Park Sunghoon, you sit with Seeun in the cafeteria at lunch and watch Park Sunghoon, you go back to class. After school you walk home with Seeun, study at the chicken restaurant her parents own, go to the karaoke booth next door for an hour, walk back to your apartment with Seeun, and study until you pass out. Rinse and repeat.
Today is nothing out of the ordinary. You kiss your mother goodbye and wait outside your apartment for Seeun. The door next to you swings open and Yoon Seeun steps out, a white ribbon tying her hair back. “Y/N!” Seeun cheers, reaching for your hand. “Sorry I’m late. Are you ready to go? I think we’ll have enough time to make it before they start handing out detention slips.”
You hum. “You better wish for that, Seeun. We’ve cut it close before, but never this close. C’mon, I want to at least get to school and have a few seconds to stare at Sunghoon from afar.”
Seeun giggles and you ignore her. You know what Seeun thinks of your crush, she thinks you should just confess your feelings to Sunghoon. “There’s no harm, Y/N!” Seeun’s always told you, but she just doesn’t get it. There’s so much to lose when it comes to facing someone like Park Sunghoon who was built by the hands of Earth.
Park Sunghoon is a widely-known name in the province. He’s an up-and-coming figure skater, his visuals are akin to the K-pop idols you see at university festivals, his body proportions are those of a model’s. His personality, well, that’s a part of the mystery called Park Sunghoon. His name may be widely spoken about, but no one has helpful information about Park Sunghoon. If he’s ever talked about, it’s either about his figure skating career, his looks, or his friends. Sunghoon’s never spoken to anyone outside of his family and close friends as far as you’re aware. You’ve been going to the same school as Sunghoon ever since you could remember and he’s always hung out with the same six boys.
Your crush on Sunghoon started when you were fourteen. Puberty was a crazy time for you. The girls and boys were maturing and separating into groups, it wasn’t the same anymore. You stuck with Seeun, of course, because she was the only friend you ever made. You remember the day you started liking Sunghoon with clarity. It was after school, you were at Seeun’s chicken restaurant and Sunghoon entered. He was laughing with his friends over something, and you swear you’ve never seen anyone laugh prettier than Sunghoon. It was like time had slowed as you watched Sunghoon laugh. It was then, you realized you wanted to see Park Sunghoon laugh for the rest of your life.
Too bad the world wasn’t on your side and as years passed, Sunghoon became more withdrawn and seeing him laugh became something of the past. Now, you rarely ever saw Sunghoon. The only times you were given chances to see Sunghoon was before school started and at lunchtime. You took those moments and cherished them.
You thought this year would change everything; you were assigned to sit beside Kim Sunoo, one of Park Sunghoon’s closest friends. But most of the year has passed and you haven’t said anything more than four sentences to Kim Sunoo. Darn you and your social awkwardness. Soon you’ll have to resign and admit the truth; you’re nothing more than another one of Park Sunghoon’s fangirls.
You and Seeun rush across the street and through the school’s gates hand-in-hand. Only a few minutes left until school starts and detention slips are handed out. Breathing heavily as you slow down into a walk, you glare at Seeun. “That was extremely close, See.”
Seeun rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Y/N. Let’s go find your loverboy.”
You did not get to see your loverboy that morning. You slouch in your seat that morning, pouting lightly as you drew random stars all over your textbook. You’ll always have lunchtime to stare at Sunghoon from afar and wonder what it would be like to sit next to him and listen to him laugh. Beside you, Sunoo stares out the window, sunlight washing across his face. You’ve always thought Sunoo was handsome. His visuals are sharp and fox-like, it’s no wonder he’s the most admired boy on campus behind Park Sunghoon. (He’s often referred to as the Handsome Oppa of your class.)
A chair scrapes back drawing your attention away from Sunoo. Kang Suyeon stands, her hands resting against the desk in front of her. Suyeon’s face was extremely pale and sweat dripped down the side of her face. “Excuse me, could I please go --” Suyeon couldn’t even finish her sentence because she faints and panic spreads through the classroom.
“Kim Sunoo! Kim Y/N!” The teacher gestures for you to help her lift Suyeon up. “Let’s go to the nurse’s office.” The teacher says after both of Suyeon’s arms are wrapped around your and Sunoo’s shoulders. Together, you and Sunoo struggle under Suyeon’s weight to take the fainted girl to the nurse’s office.
“Poor Suyeon,” Sunoo says gently, his eyes darting over to you, “I hope she’s okay.”
You nod slightly in response. “Me too.”
Entering the nurse’s office you freeze up -- why is Sunghoon here?
“Y/N?” Sunoo asks, looking at you questioningly. A blush spreads over your face and you stumble forward, placing Suyeon on the bed next to where another student lies, face also pale and sweating. Park Sunghoon and Sim Jaeyun stand next to the boy watching as Nurse Jeon checks whatever needs to be checked.
One look at Suyeon and Nurse Jeon glances at your teacher. “Another one?”
“What do you mean, Sooyoung?”
Nurse Jeon drags your teacher out of the office leaving you alone with Sunoo, Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and two unconscious students. Afraid to glance around the room, your eyes never leave Suyeon. Her chest rises and falls at a rapid rate, and she’s sweating more than she was in the classroom. You stare at her hands, the area around her cuticles was bleeding pretty badly. Suyeon must’ve been picking at her skin before she fainted.
“Did she also faint, Sunoo?” Jaeyun asks. “Joon also fainted. Fell right out of his seat.”
Sunoo nods. “Suyeon stood up to ask the teacher something, but fainted halfway through her sentence,” Sunoo glances at the doorway of the office and then leans across the bed Suyeon lay on, lowering his voice. “I heard a rumor a couple of days ago. Apparently, Suyeon’s pregnant.” Sunoo looks back at Suyeon, “that’s probably why she fainted.”
It’s silent for a few moments before Sunghoon snorts. “You don’t believe that bullshit rumor do you, Sunoo?”
“Hey!”
You hear a chuckle. Looking up, you find Sunghoon grinning as his shoulders move. He was laughing and your insides curl up. You’re finally hearing the laugh you’ve been dying to hear for years.
“You’ll be eating your words soon, Sunghoon,” Sunoo scowls. “Nurse Jeon will walk back in and check Suyeonie and say she’s pregnant. You’ll owe me ten thousand won.”
Sunghoon laughs again. You really like his laugh.
Suyeon jolts awake suddenly, shattering apart the joyful mood in the room as everyone jumps back. “Suyeon --” your voice stops sharply when Suyeon grips your wrist, her fingernails digging into your skin and you cry out. You use your other hand to try and pry off Suyeon’s hands but to no avail.
Another hand appears and helps pry off Suyeon’s hand. “Jaeyun,” Sunghoon calls out, “hold her down. You too, Sunoo.” He calls for nurse Jeon after, taking your wrist into his hand as blood trails down from where Suyeon’s nails had dug into your skin and drops onto the white bedsheet. His hand is warm. “You’re hurt.” His eyes dig into yours. You feel uncomfortable beneath Sunghoon’s gaze because it doesn’t hold the same warmth that was there when he talked to Sunoo.
“Right,” you say, your voice shaking.
Sunghoon leads you over to a chair as nurse Jeon subsides Suyeon with some sort of injection. Kneeling down in front of you, Sunghoon cleans and bandages up your wrist. Pressing lightly, he looks back up at you. “Replace the bandage with a new one tomorrow morning.”
“O-Okay.” You internally curse yourself. Why did you have to be so awkward around Sunghoon?
“Y/N,” Sunoo calls out, “it’s time for us to head back.”
Nodding your head, you scramble up out of your chair and step around Sunghoon. His touch burns your skin and your heart quickens. You pinch yourself. No. You weren’t dreaming but this certainly felt like a dream.
“Are you okay, Y/N? Suyeonie was gripping you really hard,” Sunoo asks, concern shining on his face.
You smile, your cheeks burning beneath his attention. “I’m okay Sunoo, thank you for asking.”
Sunoo beams. He really does remind you of the sun. “Seatmates care for each other!” Warmth floods your chest and your cheeks burn even more. Sunoo’s sincere words circle your mind even as you settle back down in your seat next to Sunoo.
—-
It was finally lunchtime. You watch Sunghoon from afar as he laughs with Lee Heeseung, throwing some food at the older boy. Beside you, Seeun admires the bandage Sunghoon placed on you. “Wow, this is like a relic, Y/N. I bet if you auction it off it could go for a high price. I don’t think anyone has ever been bandaged up by Sunghoon before.”
You huff and rip your wrist out of Seeun’s hands. “I forgot to say thank you to Sunghoon. I should probably go do that now because what if he thinks I’m impolite? Oh, I would never sleep at night if I knew he thought that.”
Seeun laughs. “Well, go on then, thank loverboy for bandaging you up. Gift him with a kiss while you’re at it.”
You scowl and take your eyes off Sunghoon. “Seeun, shut up.”
Seeun giggles and reaches out to pinch your cheeks. “Hey! It’s just a suggestion! And I didn’t mean on the lips, you crazy girl! The cheek would do just fine.”
You ignore Seeun and turn back around to stare at Sunghoon, only to find him gone. The table where he sits with his friends is abandoned and you slump, looking back at Seeun. “I missed my chance. Now he’s going to think I’m impolite for the rest of his life.”
Seeun laughs and rubs your back. “Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t think that.”
You ignore Seeun and push the food in front of you around on your plate. “I’m doomed for eternity. He’ll probably tell Sunoo he thinks I’m impolite for not saying thank you to him and Sunoo will gossip about it and soon --”
You never get to finish your sentence because students rush into the cafeteria, terror plastered across their faces. Seconds later, you see the reason why they were terrified.
Zombies.
Zombies only ever existed in your imagination. They only ever existed in books, movies, and TV shows. Not once did you ever think you would be an active participant in a Zombie apocalypse. You couldn’t move a single muscle as you watch students around you scramble to the exit or get tackled to the ground by a hungry Zombie. Beside you, Seeun screams in terror.
The Zombies were grotesque. Their faces were mutilated; like someone had punched them over and over. Blood covered their faces, eyes were gorged out and hanging, teeth were missing, cheeks were cut open, the eyes that remained in the eyesockets were the darkest black you had ever seen, and their skin was a terrifying pale green color.
“Y/N!” Seeun screams, terrified.
You snap back into reality as the fire alarm goes off and the sprinklers turn on. You and everyone else in the cafeteria are drenched in seconds. You survey the carnage going on around you. Zombies were pouring in through every available entrance and exit. In all honesty, you believed that this would be where you would die.
Windows.
You pinpoint a window, and then a table beneath it. You could stack chairs on top of the desk. Grabbing Seeun, you both slip across the wet ground, narrowly avoiding the Zombies that were once people you knew. Seeun sobs loudly behind you, shrieking whenever a Zombie strayed too close to the both of you. Your main priority was Seeun, you needed her safe.
Reaching the window, you tell Seeun to help you push a table up against the wall. Behind you, screams of terror filled the silence. You heard snarling and bones cracking, you heard other students crying out the names of their friends dying in front of their eyes. You needed to get out. You needed to find safety -- an adult. You needed an adult.
Grabbing a chair, you climb onto the table and smash open a window. Seeun climbs onto the table next to you, her sobs now muffled by the palms of her hands. You place the chair on top of the table and step onto it peering out the window. It was safe. Far safer than the cafeteria. “You first,” you tell Seeun.
“Y/N --”
“Seeun,” you cut your friend off, gripping her tightly, “I need you safe. You’re going first.”
Seeun nods her head. “Okay. Okay. Me first.” With a shaky inhale, Seeun climbs onto the chair, grips the window pane, and pulls herself out of the cafeteria. “Your turn!” She calls out and relief floods your body. Glancing behind you, you see the carnage -- it’s a sight you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
You drop down next to Seeun and grab her hand. “Let’s go to the nurse's office,” you say to Seeun. “Nurse Jeon will know what to do.” Together you both run away from the cafeteria and out into the courtyard, not expecting other places to be swarmed with Zombies -- but they were everywhere.
You begin to wonder how this was even possible -- where did the Zombie army come from? How were they able to turn that quickly? A Zombie lunges for both you and Seeun and with a quick yank, you pull the both of you away.
“Y/N!” Seeun calls out, but you ignore her. Surely Nurse Jeon is alive. She has to be. If not, maybe you and Seeun could seek refuge in the nurse’s office. You drag Seeun toward one of the entrances to the school building, but it’s immediately blocked by Zombies. You divert to another path, but come up short and terror begins to flood your body at a faster rate.
You didn’t want to die -- you couldn’t. You still had so much left to do.
But everywhere you went, there were Zombies and at every wall, Seeun sobbed louder. Anger and terror flood your veins, it blinds you, and you take Seeun down to a quieter place. Leaning against the wall, you turn to Seeun. “Seeun --”
“Y/N,” Seeun interrupts, “it’s hopeless.”
“Seeun, don’t say that,” you say, taking her other hand into yours. “I’ll look for another way in -- surely there’s a window we can climb into --”
“Y/N!” You’ve never heard Seeun scream louder. Suddenly, you’re yanked behind Seeun and watching a Zombie tackle Seeun to the ground. The world slows. There’s a loud ringing in your ears as you watch the terror occurring in front of you. Seeun’s screaming, desperately reaching for you, but you can’t hear her. You drop to your knees and crawl forward. Tears drop onto your hands. You didn’t even know you were crying. When did you start crying?
Desperately, you try to pull the Zombie off Seeun but it’s no use. You aren’t strong enough. The world is still quiet. Seeun stills beneath the Zombie, her hand falling limply to the ground. The Zombie’s eyes focus on you and you give in. This is how you die. Abruptly, there’s another hand on your shoulder that slips down to your forearm and is yanking you up onto your feet.
“Y/N!” Someone shouts right next to you. Everything slams back in focus and you finally hear everything -- you hear someone sobbing loudly but Seeun’s dead? Who is the one crying now? You touch your face. Oh, you’re the one crying.
You’re yanked forward as the Zombie pounces your way. You stumble over your feet, but the hand on your forearm keeps you steady. You focus on your savior; silver hair, long legs, and a familiar warm grip. It’s Park Sunghoon -- what was Park Sunghoon doing?
You try to say something, but all that comes out is a sob. You don’t know what is happening. One moment you were sitting in the cafeteria with Seeun, and the next you were watching her die. Your arm hangs limp in Sunghoon’s grip as he drags you through the outside of the school. Zombies and lifeless bodies litter the ground. Loud screaming and snarls fill the air and you wonder if Seeun could make it out of this alive even if you did just watch her die. Seeun can’t be dead. Sure, you saw her arm fall to the ground, but Sunghoon had pulled you away too soon.
Seeun can’t be dead. With that thought, you rip your arm out of Sunghoon’s hold causing the older boy to top in his tracks. He whirls around, eyes wide as he focuses all his attention on you. In another situation, you would be frozen beneath this kind of attention, but right now, all you want is Seeun by your side once more.
“Y/N --”
“Seeun’s not dead. I need to go back for her.” You like to think you sound more articulate and calm, but all that comes out are sobs and jumbled-up words. You watch Sunghoon’s eyes droop in sympathy. “Seeun -- she’s not -- she can’t be --”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon takes your hand. “I’m sorry. But we have to keep moving. They’re waiting for us.” He springs back into action with you following behind, sobbing even louder. You don’t even remember how you make it into the school building. Tears fill your vision and Seeun’s death is repeated in your mind. The more you watch it, the more hopelessness fills you. Seeun’s really dead. There’s no denying it anymore. Seeun’s dead and you just watched her die.
The running stops. Sunghoon bangs on a door and it slides open. You and Sunghoon step into a familiar classroom filled with unfamiliar faces. Sunghoon drops your hand and helps whoever was behind you stack the chairs back on top of the desks keeping the door shut.
Once again, ringing fills your ears and the world quietens around you. Seeun’s death is still playing in your mind. Your eyes drop down to look at your hands, and you see the blood that wasn’t there before. You wail loudly and drop to your knees, bunching up your skirt and hurriedly scrubbing off the blood from your hands. It doesn’t work. The blood won’t come off your hands and you continue to sob.
There are voices.
“...Sunghoon what the fuck….”
“....../N? Why is she here, Sunghoon? You said you were getting…..”
“......just pick up random people!”
“….is she doing? Someone stop her, Y/N……”
Hands pull your skirt away. The rubbing stops and you look up. Sunghoon’s kneeling in front of you again, his mouth poised to speak when you shriek and scramble back from Sunghoon, your butt sliding across the floor. “Don’t touch me!”
Silence rings through the room.
You finally glance around the room. Lee Heeseung. Park Jongseong. Sim Jaeyun. Nishimura Riki. Kim Sunoo. Yang Jungwon. All of Sunghoon’s friends are gathered in one room. And now you’re here. You’re here, and Seeun’s out there. Lying all alone. You’re alive and Seeun’s dead and you watched. You watched Seeun die. Hot tears stream down your face and you desperately wipe them away with the back of your hand, not caring if blood is smeared across your face.
“Y/N,” it’s Sunoo. Your sweet seatmate settles in front of you. He reaches out and guides your hand away from your face, wiping the tears himself. There’s a gentle smile on his face. “You’re safe now.”
You ignore the purposeful cough after Sunoo’s words. You can worry about safety later -- for now, you’re in a classroom that isn’t full of Zombies. “Sunoo,” your voice cracks and you lean forward, your cheek pressed to Sunoo’s chest as he wraps you into a hug. “Seeun’s dead.”
“Oh, Y/N,” Sunoo’s hand rubs your back. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a loud bang on the door and everyone in the room jumps. Sunoo squeezes you tightly, his chest not moving beneath your cheek. The silence in the room is overwhelming. Seconds pass and there’s no other bang. “Let’s get you up, Y/N, come on.” Sunoo helps you up, wiping your face with his hands again.
Sunoo helps you to a chair, and as soon as you sit down, you notice everyone in the room looking at you. Bowing your head, the tips of your ears turn red.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says and you peer at him. “Are you okay?”
Nishimura Riki snorts. “That’s a stupid question to ask, Sunghoon.”
“What else am I supposed to ask? ‘How’s your day going so far?’”
Jaeyun snorts, clearly amused but covers it up with a cough.
Sunghoon looks back at you, but you avert your eyes, opting to stare at your shoes instead. A heavy silence settles over the group. Noises that were still unfamiliar to you floated through the open window in the classroom. Goosebumps spread over your skin as you hear heavy footsteps run down the hallway. Everything happened so fast that you’re still running the events that lead up to this moment through your head.
The cafeteria. You were watching Sunghoon. Seeun was beside you. The Zombies came and you escaped out a window with Seeun.
The back exterior wall of a building. You and Seeun. Watching Seeun die. Sunghoon appears out of nowhere and drags you with him to some kind of safety.
The classroom. You’re with Sunghoon. And Sunoo. And their friends -- the friends everyone talks about. The world is muffled around you once more and your breathing grows shallow -- how are you supposed to get home? How are you supposed to look Seeun’s parents in the eye and tell her their daughter is dead and you watched.
“Y/N?” Sunoo’s gentle fingers brush hair behind your ear. He looks concerned as he holds your chin between his fingers. “Hey, it’s okay.” It’s not okay -- you don’t think it will ever be okay because Seeun’s gone. Your best friend is gone. And you hate how her death is the only thing you can see whenever you close your eyes.
You tune back into the conversation happening beside you. Jongseong sounds exasperated. “We’ll stay here until tomorrow. We have no plan, Heeseung. And Sunghoon decided to add one more person to our party of seven.” Jongseong sounds more than exasperated, he sounds resentful. You curl into yourself even more because it wasn’t like you asked to join Sunghoon, he was the one who pulled you away from your death sentence.
“Having Y/N doesn’t mean the end of the world, Jongseong,” Jaeyun says, sighing after his sentence. “Since Sunghoon brought her here, she’s his burden.”
Burden. That’s all you were to these seven boys. A burden. And no one wants to bear the burden.
Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your school cardigan and stand up. The chair scrapes against the ground and all attention is pulled to you once again. You stalk over to the corner of the classroom and slide down the wall, curling up into a ball, and pressing your face against your legs desperate to sleep because when you wake up, hopefully, you’ll be back in your seat beside Sunoo with the sun shining on your face and Seeun’s familiar giggles floating through the classroom.
—-
It’s night when you pull your face away from your legs. It’s gotten oddly quieter, the only noises are from the Zombies. Looking out into the darkened classroom, you find Jaeyun, Riki, Heeseung, and Sunoo playing a card game, using the light from the lamp outside the classroom as a way to see.
Someone drops down beside you. Park Sunghoon. He holds out half a slice of Tiramisu wordlessly. He holds the other half. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until it was in your mouth. Instantly, you’re savoring the flavor and your taste buds are begging for more.
“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low.
You shrug. You didn’t know the answer to that question because you were feeling so much that it felt like nothing. Turning your head slightly you stare at Sunghoon, his silver hair standing out in the dark classroom. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as perfect as Park Sunghoon. It was like his existence was written in the stars because no one has ever shone as brightly as he has. Sunghoon has everything anyone’s ever wanted.
“I’m sorry about Seeun,” Sunghoon says again, his eyes meeting yours.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, your finger tracing shapes on the dirty ground beneath you. Sunghoon’s uniform looks perfect like he had just put it on. His shoes, though, give it all away. They’re bloody, just like your skirt and your hands. “Can I call my mom?” You hate how your voice trembles. “I miss her. I want to hear her voice.”
“Oh,” Sunghoon glances over to his friends playing cards in the lamplight. “We don’t have any phones with us, Y/N.”
“Oh.” Your eyes burn again and you blink them away. You’re starting to grow sick of crying. “Do we know anything about this situation at all?”
Sunghoon shakes his head and his knee bumps yours. You feel the familiar warmth you felt back in the nurse’s office when Sunghoon bandaged you up.
The Nurse’s office.
“Sunghoon,” you start tentatively, his name rolling out of your mouth awkwardly. “What about Suyeon and Joon?”
Sunghoon looks at you confused.
“This morning. They both fainted and looked really pale and were sweating lots and what if they’re patient zero and one and --” Your heartbeat increases with each word you say, and it peaks as Sunghoon interrupts your sentence by grabbing your arm and peeling off your bandage.
Where there were four bloody scratches before, there was now nothing. It was as if you had never been scratched.
Your heart stills and you look up at Sunghoon who was already looking at you. “Sunghoon, I --”
A loud thud interrupts you. And another. And another. The silence in the classroom is loud. Sunghoon’s hand tightens around your wrist. Terror seeps through your blood and you adjust your position on the floor to be closer to Sunghoon.
Then, it happens all too fast; the window on the door to the classroom is smashed open and somehow, all the chairs stacked up on the table in front of the door go tumbling down onto the ground revealing a young boy. The snarling of the Zombies grows louder and the young boy, bleeding and terrified, pulls himself through the broken window of the door.
“Taki?” Nishimura Riki knows the boy. He’s looking at the unfamiliar boy with excitement, relief, and apprehension.
Turning around, the boy smiles when he spots Riki. “Riki! Hey!” He holds up his hand and waves and that’s when you, and everyone else see it. A bite. His hand is bloody and there, clear as daylight, is a bite.
Sunghoon’s hand is firmer around your wrist when he pulls you up off the ground. You keep your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you -- Taki waving enthusiastically with a wide smile while Riki regards him in disbelief which turns into sadness.
“Taki,” Riki starts softly as Sunghoon leads you over to the rest of the group. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Riki!” Taki replies, still cheerful as ever.
The groans and snarls of Zombies grow even closer.
“Taki,” Riki says again, his voice still soft and eyes shining in the dark.
“Yeah?”
The first tear falls down Riki’s cheek. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”
“You’re mine too!” That’s when you notice it: Taki’s skin is beginning to turn green. Beside you, Heeseung and Jongseong exchange words in a low mumble.
“Sunghoon,” you whisper, “his skin. Look.”
“Y/N,” you look up at Sunghoon, his eyes rake over your face and even though you’re in the middle of imminent death, you feel warm. “Stick close.” His fingers brush over your wrist and somehow your stomach is still able to produce butterflies.
Heeseung walks closer to where Riki and Taki stand and lays a hand on Riki’s shoulder. “Riki,” Heeseung speaks, “we can’t stay here.” Behind you, a window clicks open. The tension in the room rises and you begin to feel unsettled. The groans of the Zombies are closer than ever.
“Heeseung --”
“Riki. We have to go.” Heeseung’s voice is hard and you see his hand digging into Riki’s shoulders.
“But Taki --”
“We can’t save him, Riki.”
There’s a loud snarl and that’s when you see it. One of the many Zombies crowding the door’s broken window. Flashes of Seeun’s death run through your mind and you can’t breathe. This feels all too scary and you want to escape. You want to go home. You want to be walking to school with Seeun again. You want to be fourteen and see Park Sunghoon laugh for the first time again.
“Riki? What’s going on?” Taki is confused. He doesn’t realize his skin is turning a light shade of green. He doesn’t notice the black liquid pouring out of his eyes. He doesn’t realize how black his eyes are turning. Taki steps closer as Riki and Heeseung step back.
“Taki,” Riki’s sob is heartbreaking. You hate this, you hate watching Riki have to come to terms with the fact his friend is turning into a Zombie. “You’ve been bitten.” Riki’s voice is thick as he speaks through the tears pouring down his face.
“What? No I’m not. Why are you saying these things, Riki?”
Behind you there’s movement. Glancing over your shoulder you find Yang Jungwon climbing out the window and slipping into the night.
There’s another thud and you find Taki on the ground with Heeseung gripping Riki tightly as the younger sobs loudly, adding more noise to snarling and groaning coming from the Zombies pressed up against the locked door.
In the next second, Taki is rising up from the floor and launching himself at Heeseung and Riki. Riki’s thrown out of the way and Heeseung tackles Taki down onto the floor. It’s like the Zombies are excited with the way they throw themselves at the door, eager to enter the room and take down the seven occupying the room.
There’s a flurry of movement behind you and you watch as Jongseong ushers Sunoo out the window. “You have to be careful, Sunoo,” Jongseong warns the boy, “one wrong move and you’re dead.”
Sunoo snorts. “That’s assuring, thanks, Jongseong.” And Sunoo’s gone, slipping into the night the same way Jungwon did. Suddenly, you’re being ushered forward, Jongseong’s sharp eyes slipping to you and immediate disdain creeps over his face.
“Y/N next,” Sunghoon demands from behind you.
“Sung--”
“She’s next.” Sunghoon’s voice leaves no room for argument and Jongseong huffs. You wonder how they both could be so calm in a situation like this. Behind you, you hear Heeseung grunt and Taki, the newly turned Zombie, growl. Riki’s sobs are loud and Jaeyun’s calming words aren’t doing anything to subdue the younger.
“What do I do?” You ask hesitantly, your voice quiet under Jongseong’s gaze.
“Climb out of the window and across to the broadcasting club’s room.”
Sunghoon’s hand slips from your wrist as Jongseong pulls you harshly towards the desk in front of the window. You look at him expectantly. “What?” Jongseong asks, “do you want to die?” You steal a glance at the horde of Zombies still pushing up against the door, their arms reaching through the window. You look at Heeseung, his school uniform getting torn beneath Taki’s needy hands, Jaeyun and Riki on the ground, and Sunghoon, who is behind you frowning.
When you look back at Jongseong, there’s shock hidden in his eyes. You wonder how he was able to figure out what you were thinking. You seriously wouldn’t mind dying right now. Jongseong’s reaching out and pulling you closer to him. You’ve never been this close to him. He looks extremely handsome.
“You’re not dying Y/N,” he whispers harshly, it’s hard to hear him over the noise echoing throughout the classroom. “And if you do die, it’ll be my own hands.” You never do get to ask Jongseong what he means because he’s pushing you towards the window and forcing you out. “Hold on, Y/N, and don’t look down. You’ll know when you’re at the broadcasting room because Jungwon will be waiting for you.”
The coldness of the night seeps through your school uniform. It does nothing to make the sweat on your hands evaporate, though. The ledge is not wide enough for a school kid to be inching their way across the outside of the school building. There’s little to nothing for your hands to grab onto and you don’t heed Jongseong’s advice. Looking down was your greatest mistake.
You’re so far up, and everywhere you look there’s a Zombie walking. One wrong step and you’re dead. You’re dead, and you won’t ever see Sunghoon again. One wrong step, and you’ll see Seeun again. Pushing yourself against the cool wall, you squeeze your eyes shut as tears form again. You didn’t want to be here in this situation. How did this all even happen? How did people you know turn into bloodthirsty monsters?
Opening your eyes, you see what Jongseong had meant when he told you Jungwon would be waiting for you. Light floods through an open window and there Yang Jungwon was, with fiery red hair, peering at you as he leans out of the window.
You don’t know much about Yang Jungwon; you just know the basics. He’s class president and head of the taekwondo club. He’s very good friends with Kang Taehyun and he works at a cat cafe. He’s also Park Sunghoon’s neighbor.
You inch your way over to the broadcasting club’s room, your hands sweatier than they’ve ever been. The horror that lay beneath you kept your heart rate beating at a rapid speed and kept terror streaming through your bloodstream.
Jungwon helps you into the broadcasting room, it’s much nicer in here and you spy a few water bottles resting on the desk. Instantly, you’re reminded of how thirsty you are. “Can we drink that?” You ask, making eye contact with Sunoo who spins around on a chair, his fingers fidgeting with whatever was in his lap.
“Go for it,” Sunoo says, “I think there’s enough for the eight of us.”
Riki is the next to join the three of you with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Sunoo, with pitying eyes, hands Riki a tissue box and gently cards a hand through the younger boy’s hair. Riki instantly melts into Sunoo’s touch and you feel your heart tugging in despair for the boy.
Jaeyun follows after Riki also looking incredibly disheveled. He converses with Jungwon in a low voice and you begin to grow restless waiting for the remaining three boys. It hasn’t even been a full day and you’re already exhausted. You’re ready for this to all be some kind of fucked up prank because you can’t take this anymore. You want to survive to see your mom again, but you’re already tired that the thought of giving yourself to the Zombies doesn’t scare you as much anymore.
Jongseong is the next to join. He doesn’t look happy, “they forced me to go. The door is about to break down and Taki’s only just been restrained --” There’s a loud cry, silence, and then a bone-shattering thud. You, along with the five boys, crowd the window and look out into the dead night. Someone’s lying on the pavement, their limbs bent in awkward angles and your breath catches.
Riki’s the first to turn away, Jaeyun following after. Sunoo’s hand snakes around your elbow and pulls you away from the window. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go sit and wait.” You could hear the desperation in Sunoo’s voice so you comply, also desperate for some sort of distraction from the fear telling you that body was Sunghoon.
“Sunoo,” you say in a hushed voice, your knees pulled up to your chest, “I was talking to Sunghoon before. We know nothing about what’s going on but what if Suyeon and Joon were the ones who started it? Think about it, Sunoo.” You were desperate to have some kind of answer because maybe then you could figure out a way to end this all, to bring everyone infected back.
Sunoo stares at you, his face morphing through many emotions. That was one thing you always loved about Sunoo, he was always transparent about how he felt. “Y/N,” Sunoo says in amazement, “oh my god. Suyeonie. She was pale, but I thought she looked kind of green, and Joon -- they were both sweating a lot and then --” his eyes drop to your wrist that was no longer bandaged.
“Y/N,” you immediately hide your wrist from Sunoo. “Y/N, Suyeon made you bleed.” His eyes meet yours and you see the fear.
“Sunoo --”
“Heeseung!” Jungwon exclaims, hurriedly pulling the oldest through the window. Seconds later, Sunghoon also lands in the broadcasting room and his eyes immediately seek you out. His and Heeseung’s uniforms were in tatters. There were big gaping holes in their blazers and buttons missing, blood covering their pants and white blouses, and their ties had been ripped off.
“Are you okay, Heeseung? Sunghoon?” Jaeyun asks, “you aren’t hurt?”
Behind them, Jongseong slams the window shut quite loudly, and follows it up with a loud shout of “fuck!” The response from the Zombies is almost instant -- they begin to snarl and groan, moving in the direction of the window that had just been shut.
Of course -- no one pays attention to that response except for Jaeyun who furrows his eyebrows.
Jungwon hands Jongseong the last water bottle full of water. “This is all we have,” Jungwon speaks gently, “we’ll need to venture out tomorrow to find supplies. We can’t stay in here forever.”
“There was plenty of food in that classroom,” Sunoo says forlornly. “Everyone’s bags had secret snacks for nighttime studying.”
“We also need a phone,” Sunghoon speaks up, “some form of communication. We’re in the dark, we have no clue what’s going on, and,” Sunghoon cuts himself off, sighing deeply, “there may be. .Infections beyond the school.”
Everyone inhales sharply, their worst fear coming true.
Jongseong slumps down in defeat, hanging his head. “Jungwon’s right. We can’t stay here forever. We have to leave and try and reach somewhere safe, like a quarantine camp. But first, we need a phone.”
“The only information I know is that Suyeon and Joon may have started the outbreak at school, but how they got it themselves is still a mystery,” Sunghoon continues, his eyes holding yours.
“How do you know that, Hoon?” Heeseung asks, resting beside Jongseong.
“Because when they were in the infirmary they were acting weird,” Sunghoon says, “before Joon knocked himself out, he was moving weirdly and always trying to bite Jaeyun and I. I don’t know much about Suyeon, but I know when she woke up, she grabbed onto Y/N and made her bleed.”
All attention is directed back to you again.
“I bandaged her up, the scratches were pretty bad. Before Taki came, I checked her wrist. The scratches aren’t there anymore. It’s almost like she wasn’t scratched.”
The silence is too loud.
“Suyeon’s fingers were bleeding,” Sunoo says in a hushed voice, “when she scratched Y/N, her blood must’ve come into contact with Y/N’s.”
“So, Y/N’s a Zombie,” Riki says.
“What?” You croak, taken aback by the accusation. “No. I’m not.”
“We don’t know that Y/N,” Jongseong backs up Riki. Of course he does. “You could be some weird evolved Zombie for all we know.”
You scowl, hot anger surging through your veins suddenly. You don’t know where the change in mood came from. “If I were a Zombie, you’d be dead already, Jongseong.”
Jongseong scoffs. “You wouldn’t even be able to land a single finger on me. I’d take you down before you even get the chance to bite me. You’re weak compared to me, Y/N.”
All you see is red. It’s like you don’t have control of your own mind as you lunge for Jongseong ready to prove him wrong. Before you could even touch the boy, an arm wraps around your waist and holds you back. You struggle in the person’s arms, and you spit at the ground in front of Jongseong. “I’ll kill you,” your mouth is moving without your consent and spitting out words you don’t want to say. “I’ll fucking kill you.” With one last struggle, you’re pushing arms holding you back from Jongseong off you. The next thing you hear is a loud thud and a groan.
Glancing over your shoulder you see Sunghoon crumpled up on the ground, the locker that stood behind him was caved in, marking how he was flung into the metal. You stop breathing and register the silence and eyes staring at you in terror.
“I think Jongseong’s right,” Jungwon speaks up. “We can’t trust you, Y/N.”
“I’m not a Zombie,” your hands clench, fingernails pressing into your palm. “I don’t even know how I did that!”
“We can’t trust you,” Jungwon repeats. “But I don’t think we should be pushing you out to be with the Zombies,” he gestures to the recording booth. “Go in there.”
“You want me in the recording booth?”
“Just until morning. If by morning, you haven’t changed or done something weird, we’ll let you out, but, if something happens overnight, we’re leaving you here for good.” Jungwon’s tone sounds final and you can’t find it in you to rebut his idea because, if you think about it logically, it’s what’s best for both you and the seven boys.
Entering the recording room with Jungwon locking you in, it grows deathly quiet. You’re alone with your thoughts for the first time today and you don’t know what to do.
—-
“Y/N.” You don’t know how much time has passed when Sunghoon steps into the recording room. Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice and immediately you’re spewing your apologies. You didn’t mean to throw Sunghoon into the lockers. You hope he’s not too injured, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep at night knowing you had hurt Sunghoon unintentionally.
Something of a smile appears on Sunghoon’s face as he sits in front of you. “It’s okay, Y/N, I know you didn’t mean to push me that hard.” His hand reaches for your wrist and you let him take it, his fingertips gently tracing the patch of skin that was once covered by scratches.
“Sunghoon?” You ask, not raising your voice above a whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Are you scared?”
It’s silent for a moment. The moonlight washes over Sunghoon’s face and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone this badly before. “Of you? Never,” came Sunghoon’s response, and your body burns. It burns so intensely you can’t breathe.
“Oh. I was asking if you were scared of the situation. Not me.”
Sunghoon looks up at you, his hand slipping from your wrist to hold your hand. “Oh. I meant what I said, Y/N. You don’t scare me.”
You smile softly. You don’t know how, but being with Sunghoon like this brings some sense of comfort to you. “Oh. Thank you, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon smiles softly. It’s the first real smile you’ve seen on his face since this whole Zombie situation began. Warmth settles in your stomach and your shoulders sag, the weight you were carrying around slides off. “Are you okay, Y/N? How are you feeling?”
You snort lightly. ”That’s like the third time you’ve asked me if I was okay.”
“I ask because I care, Y/N.”
“Oh. Sunghoon, I--” you stare at Sunghoon, unblinking. Your stomach feels weird. It’s way too loud in the recording booth and you want out. You slip your hand out of Sunghoon’s and push your face into your legs. Did Sunghoon know about your feelings? Or was he being honest? You couldn’t believe that you were at the beginning of a Zombie apocalypse and still thinking about Sunghoon and how much you liked him.
“Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, sounding hesitant.
“I’m okay,” you mumble.
“Okay.” Awkward tension floats through the room. You don’t make any move to disperse the awkwardness and instead, you let it simmer.
“Right, I came in here because Sunoo told us the debate team was supposed to go on their annual school trip tomorrow, but obviously that isn’t going to happen, but in the classroom where they meet up, there’s a cupboard full of food and some water,” Sunghoon tells you and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk this hesitantly before.
You look back up at Sunghoon and instantly regret it because he’s so beautiful. “Oh. Okay. Do you have a plan yet? Am I even included in that plan? Because I can leave you all alone if you want. It might be easier since I’m probably a burden to you.”
Sunghoon stares at you. He stares at you for a long time that it becomes uncomfortable. “Do you think you’re a burden, Y/N?”
You shrug half-heartedly. “It’s easy to tell when I’m not wanted.”
“You’re wanted, Y/N,” Sunghoon says intently, his eyes never drifting away from yours.
You don’t say anything in response. How could that be true? It’s clear to see you’re a burden in the way the boys regard you, it’s clear to see you’re a burden in the way Jongseong talks to you, and it’s clear to see you’re a burden when you heard Jaeyun’s words.
“Y/N. .” Sunghoon says softly. You’ve never heard him speak like that before. It’s gentle like he’s coaxing a cat from underneath a car. It’s a comforting voice, one that makes you want to dive into and soak forever in. “You’re wanted.”
You scoff and look away, your heart tremors beneath your ribcage. Butterflies bloom and stick themselves to your gut. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
There’s a pause.
“Because I --” Sunghoon falters. His eyes slide away from your face and you feel your heart burn. “You should get some sleep, Y/N.”
“Right. Of course. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”
“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well.”
You don’t get any sleep that night.
—-
You’re allowed out of the recording booth when you wake up. You’re still regarded with caution, but you don’t care, you’re just glad to be out of the room. Sitting on the floor next to Sunoo, you listen to the conversation happening around you. They’re discussing a way to get to the debate room without alerting any Zombies to their presence.
“I have useful information if anyone wants to hear it,” Jaeyun says, raising his hand.
“What is it, Jaeyun?” Heeseung asks. “We’ll take anything at this point.”
“I think I know how to get past the Zombies.”
Everyone leans in and listens eagerly. “Sound attracts Zombies,” Jaeyun starts to explain. “And we’re in the broadcasting room. This is where the morning school announcements are made which means there are speakers all over school connected to this exact room. So, if we play a song, all the Zombies will move to wherever that sound is coming from. It’ll give us a clear path to the debate room.”
“I love it when you speak like that, Jaeyun,” Sunghoon comments, wearing a teasing smile. Seems like someone got a goodnight's sleep, you think bitterly to yourself. You were so sure Sunghoon was going to say something last night that was going to completely change your relationship. You were proven wrong, though.
“Someone needs to stay back though, right?” Riki asks, “because who will turn off the music?”
“I’m sure we can keep it going until it stops,” Sunoo pipes up.
“Yeah, but how will it stop?” Riki presses, “there’s no timer. It would keep on playing and we’d all go crazy.”
“I don’t think any of us should separate from the group,” Jungwon says firmly. “Separation is the last thing we want to do now.”
“What song should we play?” You ask, “because I suggest Red Velvet. Playing Zimzalabim would be so funny.”
Beside you, Sunoo giggles.
“I was gonna suggest Ring Ding Dong by SHINee,” Riki says, a wicked grin appearing.
“We’re immediately vetoing that idea,” Jongseong says, scowling in Riki’s direction.
“What about classical music?” Sunghoon asks, “that shit doesn’t get too repetitive, right? It’s just a bunch of instruments playing over and over again. No lyrics, just vibes.”
“No lyrics, just vibes,” Jongseong mimics and Sunghoon whacks him in retaliation.
“Let’s try to find some music, surely they have some in here,” Jaeyun says, standing up.
“First, I need to use the toilet,” Riki announces. “Should I pee out the window?” Riki earns disgusted groans in return and a small giggle from you.
“No. No peeing out of windows,” Jongseong says firmly. “We may be in an apocalypse but that doesn’t mean we don’t do our best to remain hygienic. We need to set up some kind of toilet, maybe in the recording booth? We’re not going to use it anymore, right?”
“I sure hope not,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest. “Because there’s no way I’m going back in there under suspicion with it smelling like shit and piss.”
“The recording booth it is,” Jungwon says, “I did boy scouts when I was younger, let me build the toilet.”
“Me too!” Sunoo pipes up, eagerly pushing himself off the ground, “I was your group leader, remember Wonie?”
Jungwon’s smile is fond as he remembers his past memories, and together he and Sunoo begin to build the make-shift toilet. All around you, everyone falls into conversation to pass the time leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.
You begin to wonder how hard you had pushed Sunghoon to make a dent in the metal lockers to the left of you. In fact, you’re 100% certain you aren’t even that strong. You’re pretty weak so for you to be able to make a permanent mark on metal terrifies and oddly intrigues you -- what more can you do? Surely the small bit of blood on Suyeon’s that infected your bloodstream carries some kind of weird mutation causing you to be this way -- you hope you get answers soon because all this uncertainty is driving you insane.
“Get a good sleep, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, sitting down in front of you.
“Yeah. You?”
Sunghoon hums. “The best I could get.” There’s a lull in the conversation. You immediately think back to earlier in the recording booth -- you were so sure Sunghoon was going to confess, or something because the way he was looking at you, and the way he was phrasing his words, made you believe. It made you find hope in this bleak apocalypse. “How are you feeling?”
You give Sunghoon a deadpan look. “This question? Again?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “I think it’s warranted in a situation like this.”
You smile softly. “Yeah. I suppose. And I’m feeling a bit nervous because we don’t know what’s out there. I hope Jaeyun’s right. I hope this plan works. I hope --” you sigh heavily, your chin resting on your knee.
Sunghoon reaches forward and takes your hand into his. “We’ll make it, Y/N.”
“Okay,” Jungwon and Sunoo step out of the recording booth. “Who is first?”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says loudly, “ladies first. People who need to shit go last.”
“Riki, you’re going last then!”
“Shut the fuck up Sunoo.”
It took quite a while for all seven boys to use the toilet. After numerous rock-paper-scissor games and fights, Heeseung left the recording booth with the nastiest look on his face. “When we make it to a safety zone you all better sleep with one eye open.”
“Even me?” You ask, pouting.
“They’ll call me Misogynist Heeseung.”
“Alright, Misogynist Heeseung, do the honors,” Jaeyun gestures to the booth, “go back in there and turn on the music.”
Heeseung hisses at Jaeyun and turns on his heel, taking a deep breath before entering the recording booth once more and turning on the classical music you’d found in one of the dented lockers. With the first note of Four Seasons playing, the school speakers become a target for the Zombies limping through the school grounds.
You, along with the others, watch out the window in awe. Jaeyun was right, Zombies are attracted to sound.
“It’s showtime,” Jongseong rolls his shoulders back and rolls his sleeves up. “I will do anything to make it to the room of treasures even if it means leaving you weaklings behind.”
It’s silent. Overwhelmingly silent.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Yeah,” Riki hums, “we all know you’d be the first to die.”
“We’re running out of time, let’s go already,” groans Sunoo heading over to the door. “I’m opening up this damn door and running all the way to the debate room. I am about to eat Y/N/’s hair.”
You touch your hair, frowning. “Why my hair? Why not Jaeyun’s?”
Sunoo shrugs. “First name that came to mind was yours. Okay, opening the door in 3. . 2. . 1 --”
“-- WAIT --”
Sunoo wrenches open the door.
Nothing happens.
There’s a pause in the music. And then it starts all over again.
The look Sunoo gives the rest of the group is one of pure jubilation. “Last one to the debate room is Zombie bait for our next mission!” And then he’s flying out the door, Jaeyun and Jongseong shouting after him.
“Do they think the music will drown out the noise they’re making?” Jungwon asks with a shake of his head. “Stupid. Idiots. All of them are.” He steps out the door, Heeseung following behind. Sunghoon reaches for your hand and smiles down at you. Behind you, Riki groans, “keep the heart eyes to a minimum around me, please.”
“Let’s go, Y/N.”
Stepping out, you stare around you in amazement. Zombies are desperately trying to reach for the speaker, climbing and standing on top of each other to try and satiate their hunger. At the end of the hallway stood the rest of the ground. Jaeyun was holding Sunoo by his collar.
“We have to climb up two flights of stairs,” Jungwon explains quietly, but loud enough for you to all hear over the music. “Be aware of your surroundings. There might be a few Zombies who haven’t gone towards the speakers.” With one final shared look, you begin your long ascent to the room full of food and water.
You were nearing the end. Sunghoon’s hand was tightly gripping yours and you could see your final destination in sight. You realized you truly had nothing to worry about because Jaeyun’s plan was foolproof --
And then you’re being yanked back by your hair.
With a loud shriek, you go flying backward, your hand losing Sunghoon’s. Pain explodes as you land on your back harshly. Standing above you with their hand still curled in your hair is Joon. The boy from the nurse’s office. His face is bloody and there’s a long cut down the middle of his face, the sight of it makes you retch. His eyes are the darkest black you’ve ever seen.
“Sunghoon!” You cry out, desperate to get away. Your stomach churns and you wonder why Joon specifically targeted you, and how Joon was still a functioning human. Reaching up, you try to pry Joon’s hands away from your hair, but he was too strong.
Snarling, the older boy yanks your head back harder, a harsh pulsing pain beats rapidly against your skull. Is this how you die?
“Joon?” Jake sounds astonished. “You’re alive?”
You had no clue what was going on. Fear creeps into your bloodline and sets your heart alight. You struggle in Joon’s grasp and cry out, a sob wrenching itself free from your throat. Maybe you didn’t want to die. Maybe you wanted to survive because there was still some hope deep within you that everything will be okay if you make it out of this alive. (Maybe you were feeling this hope because of Park Sunghoon.)
“Of course I’m alive, idiot,” sneers Joon, his hand tightening in your hair. “Why would they kill patient zero?”
You reach up and claw at Joon’s arm, your nails snagging his skin, cutting the boy open and he begins to bleed. “You’re such a bitch, Y/N,” Joon growls, his other hand wrapping around your neck and dragging you up from the ground, your breath hitching as you struggle to breathe.
“Let Y/N go, Joon,” Sunghoon demands, his eyes only focused on you. You feel pathetic, you’re unable to do anything -- you can’t even breathe. Maybe it would’ve been better if they left you in the broadcasting room.
“Why should I let her go?” Joon’s voice was close to your ear. You could practically taste the black blood spilling out of his mouth and onto your clothed shoulder. “She’s just like me. She’s another Zombie and you’re willingly keeping her in your group?”
“Zombie or not, let go of Y/N,” Sunghoon says, his voice low, and his eyes finally looking at Joon. He steps forward and then takes another step, and another, and another -- and then Joon snarls. It’s not loud enough to be heard over the music pouring out of the speakers, and yet, all the Zombies turn and focus their deadly black eyes on the group of seven boys, with Sunghoon in the front.
Terror floods your veins and you struggle in Joon’s grasp. You couldn’t let more people fall victim to Zombies because of you. With all eyes focused on the seven boys, a chill creeps up your spine. “One move,” Joon begins, his voice threateningly low, “and you’ll join them.”
Joon lets go of you and you instantly gasp for air, your chest heaving in delight. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Joon says, a hand reaching out to grip the back of your blouse. “Y/N’s a Zombie. The moment Suyeon’s blood entered her bloodstream, Y/N began to turn.”
“We locked her in the recording booth for a night,” Jungwon says, his eyes carefully passing over every Zombie looking at them with hungry black eyes, “nothing happened. Nothing changed.”
Joon laughs. It’s loud, but the Zombies don’t move. “But something did happen, didn’t it, Y/N?” He yanks you back towards him and you shriek, desperation filling your veins again. “What happened, Y/N?” His fingers curl through your hair, brushing it away from your face gently.
“I -- I pushed Sunghoon.” You struggle to speak, fear hindering your every move, and every word. “And he dented the lockers in the broadcasting room.”
Joon hums. “That’s an oddly inhumane amount of strength, don’t you think?”
“Please let me go,” you beg.
“Do you believe me now?” Joon asks, ignoring your begging.
“Y/N’s not a zombie,” Sunghoon says, and it sounds like he truly believes it.
“Sunghoon,” you whisper, crestfallen.
“Fine, I’ll make you believe.” Without warning, Joon’s hands settle on your chest and rip your blouse apart, your eyes widen and immediately your arms come up to cover your bare torso. One hand wraps around your neck while the other produces a knife. It’s one from the kitchen in the cafeteria and you’re paralyzed by fear.
“Watch me,” Joon growls, “or I’ll kill Y/N.”
Seven sets of eyes settle on your bare body and if this was any other circumstance you would blush. You look at Sunghoon again and it’s hard to make out what he’s feeling as he stares back at you. You want to say something to him, you want to comfort him, you want to tell him to run and leave you here, but you don’t. You feel the cool touch of a blade against your abdomen, settled just beneath your bra, and then you’re being cut open, the blade digging into your skin and you cry out.
A long line is cut into your abdomen and blood flows out of the cut. It’s dark red and it matches the blood already on your hands. You collapse to the ground once Joon lets go of you and you continue to cry, the pain overwhelming. You push your hands against the wound to stop the bleeding but to no avail.
You were dying and no one was helping you. It was a picture-perfect scenario because you did nothing to help Seeun. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” And then, little by little, the pain lessens. Little by little, you stop bleeding. Little by little, the cut on your abdomen heals itself.
Grabbing you roughly by the hair, Joon forces you up and your hands away from your now-healed cut. “Do you believe me now?”
You look over at Sunghoon. His eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly ajar. You don’t dare look at anyone else. For the final time, Joon lets go of you and you collapse back onto the ground. Your head pounds and your upper body feels overwhelmingly hot. “I’ll be back,” Joon warns. “This is only a warning.” He snarls again, and every Zombie in the hallway trails after him, their black beady eyes never leaving the group of seven boys.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says, darting forward. He rushes to your side, crouching down in front of you and reaching out. You quickly back away, tears pouring down your cheeks as you keep your head down and arms wrapped around yourself.
“Leave me alone Sunghoon,” you say, your voice thick with tears. “I’m a Zombie, don’t you understand?”
“Y/N, look at me,” Sunghoon says softly, he takes off his blazer and covers you with it. “Zombie or not I still want you with me.” Hesitatingly, he reaches out to brush strands of hair behind your ear. He then cups your cheek and his thumb brushes your cheek. “Come on, Y/N, I bet you’re hungry.”
“Yeah, for brains,” you mutter under your breath, angry at the world. Looking back up, you see Sunghoon smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You feel shy beneath Sunghoon’s gaze.
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Sunghoon answers, “Jongeong’s brain can be the first to get eaten.”
—-
You reach the classroom that holds all of the debate club’s food and water for the trip they were supposed to take today. Your eyes stare at the food stacked up, and the water lying on the ground. You felt like you were in heaven.
Jaeyun’s the first to move. He darts forward, swipes the Home Run Balls, and the rest follow, squabbling over who gets what. Sunghoon nudges you. “What do you want, Y/N?”
“I don’t know,” you answer, hugging Sunghoon’s blazer tighter around you
Sunghoon smiles and steps into the cupboard. A few seconds later he reappears with a chocolate bar and water. “Here, you’ll probably need a lot of water after what happened, Y/N. And chocolate just because everyone loves chocolate.” After handing you the water and chocolate bar, Sunghoon takes some snacks for himself and leads you over to some chairs.
You both eat silently, letting the loud yet quiet voices of the others fill up the silence. You didn’t know what to say -- what were you supposed to say after a situation like that? You feel Sunghoon’s shoulder brush your’s and you instantly become aware of how close he is.
“Sunghoon?” You ask hesitantly.
Sunghoon glances over at you, humming slightly. His stare pins you to your seat. He still looks beautiful, you think to yourself, like a star. He still looks like he was hand crafted from heaven above, and he still looks so out of your league. No matter the time, no matter the place, no matter the situation, the answer will always be the same; Sunghoon will never be yours. He’s destined for things bigger than your small village, and he’s destined for someone better than you. And yet --
And yet he’s sitting next to you.
And yet his school-issued blazer is wrapped around your body.
(You remember bringing Park Sunghoon up to your mother one night. She laughs and shakes her head, finishing dishing the takeaway chicken she bought after work onto your plate. “Park Sunghoon, that boy is destined to be a star, Y/N.”
He’s out of your league is unsaid. You’re no good for him is unsaid.
“There’s no point loving someone like that, Y/N,” your mother warns gently. “He’s a star. And you know how bright they shine.”)
If this is how a star shines, you think, eyes trailing over Sunghoon, then I want him in every way possible.
“Thank you,” you say, smiling slightly.
“For what?”
You shrug and glance away from Sunghoon.
“Ah,” Sunghoon can read between the lines. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. “I’d do it again, Y/N.”
“Sunghoon?” You turn back to him. “You’d do what again?”
Sunghoon’s ears burn red. “Don’t make me say it, Y/N.”
You grip Sunghoon’s hand tightly. You don’t want to let this moment slip away like last time in the darkness of the broadcasting club’s recording booth. “Sunghoon,” you say, your eyes hold the unspoken desperation.
There’s a scrape of a chair being pushed back, and then Jongseong’s voice echoes through the room. No, you think, no, no no, this can’t be happening.
The moment is over. Sunghoon’s hand falls from your grip and you watch him slip away from you for the second time. You reach after him, but you capture nothingness.
“We need a phone,” Jongseong says, “and we need it now.”
The music flowing through the speakers shut off. An unsettling chill lingers in the room and everyone’s thinking the same thing; Joon. “We need a phone,” Jongseong repeats, “any ideas?”
Looks are shared and nothing is said. Jongseong groans, “come on. Give me something to work with here!”
“My phone,” Riki says, “it’s in Mrs. Jang’s room.”
Jaeyun snorts in amusement. “Now how did that happen, Riki?”
Riki scowls. “Apparently learning English is more important than Alice in Borderland.”
“Okay, and how far away is Mrs. Jang’s room?” Jongseong asks, looking slightly more alive ever since Riki’s announcement.
“Since we’re in the debate club’s meeting room,” Sunoo thinks aloud, “the floor beneath us.”
Jongseong looks at Riki and scowls. “And you didn’t let us know any sooner? We literally walked past her room on the way here, Riki! And Joon is probably there waiting for us!”
“No one asked,” Riki answered, “so I didn’t provide.”
“You’re going to be the reason for my death, mark my words.” Jongseong’s eyes fall on you and you feel uncomfortable. “Y/N. Joon can somehow command the Zombies to do whatever he wants, can’t you do that? Y’know, considering you’re like, half Zombie-half human or some shit like that.”
It’s a weird silence you sit in after Jongseong’s remark. “I mean. . It’s cool if you can’t though,” Jongseong chuckles awkwardly. You find you quite like this situation; Jongseong awkward beneath your bland stare, it’s a situation that should happen more often.
“Speaking of,” Heeseung pipes up, “shouldn’t we talk about what happened back there?”
“What is there to speak about?” Jungwon asks, “Y/N is a Zombie. But she’s also a human.”
“Clearly,” Heeseung responds, “we should also find Y/N a shirt, but what about Joon? How he came to be. . . That, is unknown and what he said? ‘Patient zero’? Isn’t that at least a little bit concerning?”
“Obviously Joon and Suyeon were some experiment,” Sunoo says, “gone wrong. And now everyone is paying the consequence.”
“Someone was probably trying to make a superhuman,” Jaeyun jokes, his eyes sparkling, “Y/N and Joon have enhanced strength, which is super cool, and Y/N even has enhanced healing! I would suspect Joon does too, but from his appearance. . I don’t think so.”
“Superhuman,” Jongseong mutters under his breath like it was the missing piece to a puzzle.
“Boring. Let’s talk about this later,” Riki says suddenly, “it’s getting dark. Who volunteers as tribute to go and grab my phone? It has a pink sparky case and a small little Yuuji sticker on it. From Jujutsu Kaisen. I say let Y/N go. She can self-heal and can push people off her and into lockers.” Riki winces after being on the receiving end of many glares. “Too soon for jokes?”
“It’s okay, Riki,” you wave him off, too tired to involve yourself into this conversation. “Wake me up when you make your decision, I’m feeling sleepy.”
“Right, of course,” Jaeyun hums, “obviously there are side effects. You can sleep, Y/N, we’ll make sure nothing disturbs you!”
You smile at Jaeyun, thankful.
——
When you come to, it’s pitch black. The only light source is a yellow-tinged light shining on Jungwon and Sunoo who are seated together and whispering to each other. The light is sourced from a flashlight, how they acquired said flashlight is unknown.
Sunoo catches your movements and beckons you over. You shuffle over to the two boy and carefully take a seat beside Sunoo, scared to wake up the sleeping bodies lying around the room. “Sleep well? Feeling any better, Y/N?” Sunoo’s words are kind, and his gaze is kinder.
“It was a good sleep. I’m feeling much more energized.”
“That’s good,” Jungwon says, “because Sunghoon’s the one who went to search for the phone.”
You stop breathing. “What?”
“He left an hour ago and he’s not back,” Jungwon informs you, the yellow-tinged light shining on Jungwon’s face makes the boy look older than he actually is. “Heeseung always says to not think of the worst, but I’m thinking of the worst right now.”
Images of Sunghoon lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood flash through your mind. Images of Sunghoon as a Zombie flash through your mind. Images of Sunghoon with Joon’s hands wrapped around him flash through your mind. You can’t let Sunghoon slip through your grasp for the third and final time. You need Sunghoon safe and you’ve never needed anything this desperately before.
“I’ll go find him,” you say to Jungwon, your words oddly sounding like a goodbye. And a promise.
“Y/N --” Sunoo starts.
“Sunoo,” you cut him off. “Let me do this. Let me not feel like a burden for once.”
“Okay,” Sunoo whispers, “okay.”
You rise to your feet and pad over to the door. “Y/N,” Sunoo hisses through the dark, “be safe.”
You want to laugh at Sunoo’s words. Your palm touches the cool handle of the door and you gently slide it open, cold air from the hallway rushing into the room behind you. You begin to feel uneasy and goosebumps spread across your skin as you step out of the warm classroom and into the unknown. The last thing you see as you shut the classroom door is Jongseong staring at you.
You don’t know what to expect as you slowly walk down the dark hallway that’s only illuminated by the night sky. The moon and the stars hang above you, unintentionally guiding you to where Park Sunghoon lay. Keeping your hands pressed close to your chest and your eyes focused on your surroundings, you do your best to not bring attention to yourself by any means -- one noise and it’s all over for you. You wander down a familiar hallway that has become unfamiliar and you truly begin to question how this all happened; how easily your hometown succumbed to a Zombie apocalypse.
A loud bang shakes you out of your thoughts. It came from inside the classroom next to you and terror floods your senses. You hold your hands tighter against your chest and try to even out your breathing. There’s another bang and you quickly stride past the classroom, making your footfalls as quiet as possible.
Everything felt so off; not a single Zombie roaming down the hallway you were in, not a single Zombie chasing you down -- you were expecting the worst would come when you find Sunghoon. Your heart races at the thought of something bad happening to Sunghoon. You don’t want anything bad to happen to Sunghoon, he’s the only good thing you have left in your life right now.
You pad down the steps and enter the hallway Riki’s phone was supposed to be on. Here, you finally see the Zombies you were looking for. A sudden cold chill lays itself over your skin as you dare to enter the hallway crowded with Zombies.
Even though you know you shouldn’t, you hold your breath as you maneuver around the Zombies in complete silence. Sometimes, they let out random groans and it frightens you, but you keep your terrified shrieks contained within you. One single noise and you’re a goner.
You reach Ms. Jang’s office and a Zombie is blocking the door. Inhaling quietly, you step around the Zombie and reach for the cold silver doorknob. As you twist the doorknob it makes a shrill sound and you halt, not daring to move another inch. The Zombie right next to you lets out a groan and steps closer to you, their arm brushing yours and suddenly they’re latching onto your arm.
You can’t help it and cry out, ripping yourself out of the Zombie’s grasp and throwing yourself at the door. Growls fill the air and the Zombie in front of you begins to sniff, seeking out a smell. You could smell the death on the Zombie and begin to pray that this isn’t how your life ends -- you don’t want to be a Zombie because what happens then? You become Zombie and then what? Where does your soul go? Your conscious?
A tear trails down your cheek and the Zombie is stepping away, wandering back down the hallway and leaving you pressing up against the door, your hand curled around the doorknob. Without hesitation, you open the door and jump inside, letting the door shut gently behind you.
The first thing you see is Park Sunghoon lying on the ground, unresponsive -- but breathing. Immediately, you drop to your knees and shake the boy, “Sunghoon,” you whisper, not liking the odds of this situation. There’s a cut on his temple that’s bleeding. “Fuck sake. Sunghoon!” Your shaking gets more aggressive as each second passes and Sunghoon doesn’t shoot up, gasping for breath.
Desperate times call for desperate measures so you slap Sunghoon. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to get out of this action, but it certainly wakes Sunghoon up. His eyes fly open and his hand comes up to clutch his cheek. Scrambling to sit up, Sunghoon looks at you with wide eyes. “Did you just slap me?”
“What? Was I supposed to kiss you awake?”
It’s silent for a moment. “I mean. I wouldn’t have been opposed to a kiss, Y/N.”
You glare at Sunghoon and slap his bicep. “You are such an idiot! Why were you unconscious? And why are you bleeding? Sunghoon, what happened? We were -- I was worried.”
“Y/N, you -- you were worried?” Sunghoon asks, a little breathless.
You scowl and slap Sunghoon’s bicep again. “Are you even listening to me? What happened?”
“I got scared and fell over, hitting my head on the way down,” Sunghoon explains sheepishly. “I did dream of you saving me though, Y/N.”
“Dork. You’re a fucking clumsy dork, did you know that, Sunghoon?”
“A dork for you,” grins Sunghoon and you push him away, falling onto your bum and feeling hot, taken aback from Sunghoon’s sudden flirty nature.
“Consider us even, then,” you say, “you saved me and now I’m here to save you.”
Sunghoon’s smile is soft, a small dimple peeking in the curve of his cheek. “I have Riki’s phone, though, you ready to go?”
“What about your temple?” You gesture to Sunghoon’s head, “you’re bleeding, Sunghoon.”
“Don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll patch it up later. I don’t know about you, but I still feel uneasy being by ourselves and separated from the group. It’s better we get back quickly before Joon sniffs us out.”
You hum and stand up, holding out your hand for Sunghoon to take. His hand is warm in yours and you ignore the gentle squeeze he gives your hand as you pull open the door slowly. “Remember, be quiet,” you whisper to Sunghoon.
“Of course, Y/N.”
You both step out into the darkness.
The sight that awaits you both is unexpected. Suyeon’s body is sprawled out in the middle of the hallway, her eyes falling out of their sockets and her head smashed in. You immediately avert your eyes as your stomach lurches.
“Oh shit,” Sunghoon hisses, “her throat was slit. Gross. Do you think it was Joon who did this?” Sunghoon’s question is answered soon enough as Ahn Yujin steps out of the shadows, her black hair falling across her shoulders angellically, and bloody covering her hands and splattered across her face. In one of her bloodied hands, she holds a knife. “Oh shit,” Sunghoon repeats, but this time more terrified.
No words are spoken as Yujin charges towards you and as you push Sunghoon away. You weren’t going to let someone else die because of you. You willingly let Yujin’s knife enter your body as she flings her body into yours. You crash into a wall behind you and you hiss in pain, which turns into a bloody cough.
“Y/N!” Sunghoon calls out, but you ignore him.
“Yujin,” you croak, seeing humanity left in her eyes, “Yujin. Don’t do this.” You already know the stab wound is futile, you could feel your wound healing around the knife still stuck in your body. It’s a weird sensation, one you can’t describe.
Yujin twists the knife and you cry out, your hand reaching for Yujin’s hair you tug hard, momentarily taking the girl off guard. You push her away and rip the knife out of your stomach, blood splattering the ground and you hear Sunghoon gasp.
Yujin growls and charges again. You muster up all the strength you have and backhand her, flinging Yujin into the wall. There’s a loud crack and Yujin slumps to the ground, blood trailing down the wall to her slumped figure, her head hanging.
You reach for Sunghoon’s hand again. “Let’s go.” Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate and you both fly down the hallway, not caring if you were loud enough for the Zombies to find you.
—-
To stay the other’s were surprised that you didn’t come back with just Sunghoon and Riki’s phone would be an understatement. The bloodied knife was handed off to Heeseung, and Jungwon had simply sighed, shaking his head. “We really need to get you a new top, Y/N,” Jongseong says, “maybe like a whole pack because you like ruining clothes, don’t you?”
“It’s not like I chose to be stabbed,” you huff bitterly.
In the midst of all of this, Riki falls to his knees and cries out. Instantly, you all fear the worst. “What? What happened, Riki?” Jaeyun asks, his eyes wide and his hand coming to pet Riki’s head. “Is everything okay?”
“My Yuuji sticker!” Riki cries, “it’s not here!”
Sunoo mimics strangling the boy with wild gestures and Sunghoon snorts. “That sucks, but we got a phone for a reason. Don’t let me going unconscious for a few minutes and Y/N getting stabbed by some psycho girl to all go to vain.”
“It wasn’t a few minutes, Sunghoon!” You exclaim, whacking the boy again, “it was an hour!”
“It felt like minutes to me,” Sunghoon shrugs, “though I would love to wake up to your face more often.” The silence that follows after that declaration is awkward.
“Right,” Jungwon says, ripping Riki’s phone out of the crying boy’s hands. “Let’s see what the internet is saying, shall well?” A few seconds later Jungwon is groaning, “why is everything in Japanese? Jongseong? A little help?”
“But it’s Riki’s --” Jongseong cuts himself off as he looks at the unresponsive, crying boy curled up on the ground and Jaeyun hovering beside him awkwardly. “Right.”
“Well?” Sunoo says after a few seconds of silence, “what does it say?”
“It’s loading, Sunoo, patience,” Jongseong snaps, glaring at the younger.
“Old people are so slow,” Sunoo moans.
“You brat --”
“Translate for us, Jongseong,” Jungwon cuts off the older boy, thrusting the phone into his grasp.
Jongseong’s eyes trail over the phone screen in front of him. “Well, the electricity and power and phone service is getting cut off in twenty-one hours.” A heavy silence settles over the group, “so, that means we’ll have no contact to the outside world in twenty-one hours.”
“Well that fucking sucks,” Sunghoon mumbles from next to you.
“Hurry up then, Jongseong,” Sunoo rushes, “see who is still alive. And where the nearest quarantine zone is. I want to get out of here and see my family!”
“Alright, alright,” Jongseong sighs, “get comfortable, it’s going to be a long night. Did you happen to bring a charger with you, Sunghoon? Y/N?”
The two of you share a look. “Uh. . We were supposed to?” Sunghoon replies.
“Airhead. We have two fucking airheads in this group,” Jongseong grumbles and Jungwon comforts him with a look of amusement.
Ignoring Jongseong, you take Sunghoon’s hand into yours again. “Let’s get you patch up, dork, where’s the first aid kit again, Heeseung?” After Heeseung points you in the direction of the first aid kit, and you settle onto the floor a bit away from the group with Sunghoon, you get to work on cleaning up the cut to Sunghoon’s temple.
“How clumsy are you, Sunghoon?” You mutter, slightly amused. “How were you able to hit your head that hard?”
“I get scared easily!” Sunghoon defends himself, pouting slightly. “You would too! Being all alone, surrounded by Zombies and with the threat of a murdererous weird Zombie-person running around hanging over your head!”
You snort and shake your head, tilting Sunghoon’s head to the side slightly. “But,” Sunghoon continues, his voice more softer. “Thank you. For saving me. Twice. The slap wasn’t nice, though.”
“I was desperate, okay,” You say, scowling, “and worried. And concerned -- you weren’t waking up, Sunghoon.”
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize Sunghoon. This might hurt.”
Sunghoon hisses and you send him a smile in apology. “You care about me, Y/N?”
“Of course I do,” you mutter, “you are all I have left. And the others.”
“But mostly me?” Sunghoon smiles a cheeky smile and you scowl, purposefully pushing down on his cut harder.
“Don’t push it, Park.”
Sunghoon reaches up and pinches your waist, making your yelp in surprise. “Sunghoon! I’m cleaning your wound! Don’t make me make it worse on purpose!”
Sunghoon laughs. It’s the laugh you’ve been dying to hear ever since you were fourteen. His smile is wide across his and his eyes crinkle up. He really shines like a star in moments like these. You can’t help but smile, it’s all soft and fond, and love is what makes your smile curve wider. He’s a star that’s shining for you.
“I like it when you laugh, Sunghoon,” you blurt.
Sunghoon holds eye contact with you for what feels like the longest time. “I like it when you smile, Y/N. And I like it when you get so focused your tongue pokes out of your mouth. And I like it when you blow your hair out of your face. And I like your eyes, especially when you’re laughing and I -- I just like you, Y/N.” Hesitancy spreads across Sunghoon’s face and he averts his eyes, cheeks turning a soft red. “I know this is all sudden but -- but you’re not a burden, Y/N, and I hope you don’t think of yourself as one. I care about you, Y/N, and I want you with me, Y/N, that what I wanted to say that night in the recording booth. If I didn’t want you with me, then I wouldn’t have pulled you away when I did.”
The cold, jarring truth strikes you. Sunghoon could’ve left you to die, but he didn’t.
“I want you with me, Y/N, all the time,” Sunghoon admits, more certain of himself now. “So, thank you. For saving me. For patching me up. For being with me.”
“How could I not?” You respond, shaking your head and laughing breathlessly, “you’re all I think about.”
“Y/N --”
“I wasn’t joking when I said you were all I had left. Seeun’s a Zombie and my mother probably is too.” Your voice quivers and you sniff, Sunghoon’s stare getting too intimate for you, so you glance at a spot over his shoulder. “Please don’t leave me either, because I don’t plan on leaving you.”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon whispers, “why would I ever leave you?”
That’s all it takes for you to dissolve into a sea of tears. Sunghoon wraps you up into his arms and holds you close to his chest, his hand gliding through your hair, over the nape of your neck, and down your back.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon cups your chin and tilts your head up, wiping your tears away, his eyes soothe you. “I know this might be a bad time, but there’s nothing better than the present. Can I kiss you? I’ve always wanted to kiss you, did you know that?”
Your heart skips a beat. All the air is knocked out of your lungs. Sunghoon is a star. He’s unbelievable. He makes wishes ceom true. “Sunghoon,” you whisper, “you don’t even have to ask.”
Sunghoon kisses you and the world explodes. His lips are warm. Everything about Sunghoon is warm. He makes you feel warm. He makes you feel special. Sunghoon makes you feel less alone. Sunghoon settles you onto his lap, an arm slipping around your waist while the other cradles the back of your head. He keeps you close to his chest as your mouths move.
Maybe suriving the apocalypse is worth it since it brought you to the exact moment; Sunghoon kissing you.
“Wait,” Sunghoon’s pulling away, sounding breathless, “you like me too, right?”
You giggle. “I like you too, dork,” and you pull him back in for a kiss.
—-
Having a phone works wonders. Jongseong finds out where the nearest quarantine zone is, and he finds out that the apocalypse has spread throughout your small province. Jongseong also found out damning news; in forty eight hours, the school and everything around it would be blown up by bombs dropped from the skies above.
“We need to move quickly,” Jungwon addresses the group. “Today, we need to leave the school and get to the forest. From there, we’ll hopefully have some cover, and be able to reach the zone a couple hours before the bombs are expected to drop, but we have to move quickly.”
“I will move the quickest out of anyone in the group,” Sunoo proclaims confidently. “I want to get out of this hell hole.”
So with the first rays of sunlight peeking through, you and the seven boys move out of the classroom, a backpack strapped to Heeseung and Jungwon’s backs full of enough food and water to make the eight of you last the two day journey.
“At the first sign of Joon, just run,” Heeseung tells the group gravely, “we don’t have time to engage with him. He’ll be blown up shortly anyway.”
As you pass through the hallway where you were stabbed by Yujin, your hand in Sunghoon’s warm embrace, you find her body missing. You share a glance with Sunghoon but neither of you point it out the rest of the group, not wanting to unsettle the happy mood everyone was in today.
Today was full of luck. Everyone was silent and you were all able to easily slip past Zombies. The knife you hold in your free hand didn’t need to be used. Your new t-shirt was bright white and clear of blood. It made you feel good, feeling slightly clean.
You reach the school gym in no time, finding it clear of all Zombies. There, you decide to take a rest, and Jungwon decides to call Kang Taehyun. The dialing tone rings throughout the gym and it’s picked up seconds before the last dial tone rings.
“Riki?” Taehyun asks in disbelief.
“Taehyun,” Jungwon cries out, tears welling in his eyes. “You’re okay.”
“Won,” Taehyun repeats, still in disbelief. “You’re okay? Oh my god, what about the other’s --” a loud clamor takes over Taehyun’s side of the phone. You hear the familiar voices of Yeonjun, and Soobin, and Beomgyu, and Kai. The boys on Jungwon’s side of the phone all crowd around the phone and everything is a mess. (A happy mess, you think.)
After the phone call ends with promises of seeing enach other soon, Jungwon looks over at you. “Y/N? Do you have anyone to call?”
You smile and shake your head. “I have no one, Jungwon.”
“Oh, sorry I asked,” Jungwon seems a little embarrassed and you laugh him off with a wave of your hand.
“It’s okay. Thank you for asking, though.”
“You have us, Y/N,” Sunoo says with a smile. “You’ll always have us, now. Our bond is thicker than blood!”
You laugh, “thank you, Sunoo. I’m glad I have you.”
—-
It rains that night. It pours, but Jungwon doesn’t let up. Loud thunder booms through the sky and the lightning lights up the darkness. You continue to creep around the Zombies in silence, the storm masking any loud noise you make. The storm was a blessing in disguise.
You had entered the forest a few hours ago but none of you had wanted to stop, especially as it began to rain. You all wanted to reach the quarantine zone desperately, already tired from all the running and surviving you had been doing.
Sunghoon squeezes your hand. “Are you doing okay, Y/N?” His voice was close to your ear.
You squeeze back. “Yeah!” You shout over the storm, and that’s when you somehow catch a glimpse of it. A white ribbon. Your breathe stutters and you stumble over, Sunghoon keeping you upright. “Seeun,” you breathe. She moves carelessly through the forest, stumbling over like many of the Zombies you had seen do before. You face the truth you had subconsciously been denying this whole time; Seeun’s a Zombie.
Slipping out of Sunghoon’s grasp and ignoring everyone’s loud calls, you walk over to Seeun. You need to see her one last time. You need to say your apologies one last time, and if you die trying, then so be it. You reach within an arms length distance of Seeun and watch her stumble about quietly. “I’m sorry,” you shout over the storm. “I’m sorry, Seeun.”
She turns towards you and snarls, stumbling forward and stopping in front of you. She copies the movements of the Zombie who you stood face-to-face with in front of Ms. Jang’s office. She sniffs the surrounding area of your body, and then turns away. She lets you live, like that other Zombie did.
Turning back around, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s and the sympathy he holds make tears slip down your cheeks. No one says anything when you return to the group and stick yourself to Sunghoon’s side.
The further you all went into the city you grew up in, the further reality sinks in. Zombies fill every nook and cranny, and the loneliness of the city makes your skin crawl. You all push on, and your eventually have to begin to hide and use your knife as the Zombies become more ruthless and pick up on every small sound.
You grow tired, but you still push on. With Sunghoon beside you, holding you and keeping you safe every step of the way provides you with the strength and energy to push on.
“Would you believe me if I said I was looking for you that day, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks during one of your short breaks, his finger twirling your hair.
“I don’t know. Were you?” You respond, smiling.
“Well. I was looking for any sign of an adult, and also for weapons, but when I saw you, Y/N, all I thought about was keeping you alive and safe.”
You melt against Sunghoon, your head resting on his shoulder. “I like you a lot, Sunghoon,” you whisper, “and maybe if we weren’t in a situation like this, we could be going on a date right now.”
“What kind of date?” Sunghoon asks, oddly interested.
“We’d go ice skating,” you say, “because you’re good at ice skating and I’m shit. You would help me skate, and we’d hold hands, and then we’d go eat something warm and spicy. You’ll make me laugh, and I’ll make you laugh, then you’ll take me home and kiss me goodnight.”
Sunghoon kisses you temple. He doesn’t say anything and you just bask in the silence and the warmth of Sunghoon. “That’s if either of us confessed,” Sunghoon says, “because I don’t think I would’ve ever confessed.”
“Me either,” you admit. “You felt so out of my league, and I never had your attention, so the thought of confessing frightened me.”
Sunghoon laughs and you peer up at him, perplexed. “What’s so funny?”
“You always had my attention, Y/N,” Sunghoon says, and he kisses you.
—-
You reach the quarantine zone and you’re met with guns pointed at you. With your hands raised, you all shuffle into a line and are being tested with a thermometer device. It’s raining again and you shiver, missing the warmth of Sunghoon’s hand holding yours.
“What are you doing?” Jongseong asks the soldier.
“A colder temperature means you’re a Zombie,” the soldier informs Jongseong.
“But what if someone is sick?” Jongseong asks, “then what if you’re leaving someone out to die?”
The soldier smiles, but it isn’t a nice smile. “Would you like me to show you what happens when this thing identifies a Zombie, and then what we do after?”
Jongseong’s immediately shaking his head.
Sunghoon’s herded into the zone before you, and the smile he sends you is a sweet one. It calms you down as only thoughts of Joon’s words fill your head. You hope you’re able to pass this test. You hope you’re able to live a relatively normal with Sunghoon by your side.
But, luck runs out at some point.
A high pitched squealng sound emits from the thermometer device and the world shifts and everything happens at once.
“She’s a Zombie!” The soldier yells, raising his gun and pointing it at you.
“Y/N!” Sunghoon shouts, running to you, his arms wrapping you up as more soldiers swarm the area. “Y/N, everything will be okay, the device probably made a mistake, they just need to do it again --”
“Sunghoon.” You cut him off.
“No,” he says, “I can’t lose you, Y/N, you said you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Sunghoon,” you admit, “but I have to.”
“How are you so calm about this?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low, “I feel so desperate, Y/N, I feel desperate enough to kill --”
“I was expecting the worst, Hoon.”
Sunghoon stares at you. There are so many emotions flooding his face, your stomach churns. Suddenly, he’s ripped away from you and he struggles, calling out your name. “Y/N! I love you! I love you, and I’d save you again. I’d save you again and again if I had the choice.”
You did your best to keep your tears at bay. You couldn’t have them falling over now. You couldn’t cry. You had to remain strong, even with a gun pointed at your head.
Sunghoon breaks free from the soldier’s grasp and flings himself into your embrace again, clutching you close.
The rain falls harder, soaking you both to the bone.
“Y/N, I love you,” he kisses you so passionately and desperately it makes your heart break. “And I’ll come for you. I’ll find you, Y/N, I promise. I promise that once I find you, I’ll take you ice skating and catch you every time you fall.”
“Of course you will,” you laugh as the tears begin to fall. “You’ll always catch me, no matter what, Hoon.”
“And we’ll be the happiest people on earth, Y/N.”
“Of course we will, Hoon,” you say softly, cupping Sunghoon’s face, “you will always make me the happiest.”
Sunghoon’s ripped away from you and you instantly shiver, the cold overwhelming you. “I’ll find you, Y/N!” Sunghoon shouts, his words tearing your heart apart. “I promise I will!”
You watch as Sunghoon and the rest of the six boys are pulled away from view. You refuse to look at the others because it’ll only break your heart more.
A gun is pointed at your head.
You close your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper to whoever is listening. “Please forgive me.”
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author’s note, well that was wild and crazy and goofy and im sorry if the pacing seems rushed but i wrote most of this at 1/2/3am when i was tired and sad and completely delusional. there are lots of unanswered plot points like omg what happened to joon?? and suyeon?? and yujin?? why was she so crazy🤣🤣 and how did the infection start?? and did y/n really die?? and i left some of those points unanswered in case i ever decide to write a part two in the future..Gasp😨😨 anyway. i hope u enjoyed reading this mess. i hope u love it😆😆
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vampireimiko · 10 months
Note
omg! could you make a miguel fic were like him and reader are like mom and dad to hobie pav miles and gwen. miguel being the like strict dad n reader being the mom that defends her kids with her life n yells at him when he’s being to mean😭
protective mom mode: activate!
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warnings, none !! just the reader being protective over her kids 🦭
note, AGHHH i actually love this request sm but it's been sitting in my inbox for a while so i wanted to get it out, HOWEVER. i might add on more to this scenario and make it sillier :3
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If there was one thing everybody around Spider-Society knew, it's that Miguel was super strict and almost always being serious. He was known for being harder on younger spider people. While you were the polar opposite, you were nice and understanding, and loved to joke around from time to time. You were known for being someone younger spider people could come too.
So with that being said, the younger spider people, as in Miles, Pav, Hobie, and Gwen could always come to you for safety whenever Miguel was about to scold them. For example, just yesterday Miguel was about to get on all four of them for almost jeopardizing a mission.
"Miguel we understand what you're saying but-" Gwen started only get cutoff by Miguel who has his hands on his hips and a frustrated look on his face.
"No! You clearly don't understand! You 4 show me time after time again that you can't be trusted going on a mission together because all you do is-!" Miguel is then interrupted by YOU this time. Except this time, he goes quiet by himself. Your presence was enough to shut him up whenever he got to talking crazy. Cause if there was one thing about you, you did not play about those kids.
"Miguel, leave them babies alone! They ain't did nothing wrong!" You intervened, not letting him get in another word of scolding in. Miles and Hobie couldn't help but stifile a laugh at your intrusion which caused Gwen and Pav to bump shoulders with the two while also trying to stop themselves from laughing.
Miguel's eyes narrowed at your interruption, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his expression. He knew better than to argue with you when you adopted that protective stance towards the 4 younger spider kids.
You stepped forward, placing a hand on Miguel's arm in a gesture of both reassurance and defiance. "Look, I get it, Miguel. You want to keep them safe, and that's admirable. But they're still learning, and they need room to make mistakes and grow. We were all in their shoes once."
Miguel let out a sigh, his initial frustration giving way to a more measured contemplation. He glanced at the group of 4 once more before finally nodding, acknowledging the truth in your words.
"You're right," he admitted, his tone softer now. "They do need both sides of the coin. I'll work on finding a better balance."
A collective sigh of relief escaped from the younger spider people as they realized they had been spared from a severe scolding. They exchanged grateful glances and offered you appreciative smiles.
"I know I'm right, now watch your mouth when you speaking my kids like that." You playfully said rolling your eyes. You then turned towards the group of four, "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat!"
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𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; FINALLY GOT ALL FIVE OF MY REQUESTS DONE 🫶🏾 opening requests up tonight methinks
𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
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aemonds-fire · 11 days
Text
Dragon Girl - Oneshot - Revised Version
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Aemond really likes a lady in red.
Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader
Word Count: 3580
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, profanity, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, unprotected sex , fingering.
Fact - NARS makes a shade of red lip color called Dragon Girl. I couldn't leave that alone.
Author's Notes: AU Aemond did not lose his eye, but has the scar in this. This was a very early fic of mine. I've cleaned it up a bit. My masterlist will link to this version and not the original.
Enjoy! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated.
Aemond Targaryen Masterlist
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On a Monday morning, you're sitting at your desk in your little home office, going through emails, when one from your co-worker and friend Sara gets your attention. It’s about a get-together she’s organizing at Greyjoy’s, a favorite hangout when everyone still worked in the office. You check the recipient list and see most of the people from your department, along with some of the newer people you haven’t actually met yet.
Sometimes you miss being with people at the office, but you’ll take advantage of the benefits of working from home. You send off your response, stating that you'll be there and get back to work.
You and Sara usually keep a running chat going while you work. She tells you about life as a new mom and gets on you about your social life, or lack of one. Today the two of you are chatting about your boss, Larys, scheduling a late afternoon meeting for Friday, and looking forward to getting together at Greyjoy's.
"I can’t believe the one time you actually have a date, Larys has to schedule a late meeting," Sara complains.
"Sara, it’s not a date. I’m just meeting a friend for dinner," you reply. "I’ll get ready at lunch, hope Larys keeps the meeting short, and pray that I don’t get stuck in traffic."
"How’s the response for Greyjoy’s? You ask. “Are a lot of people coming?" 
"Some can’t make it, but we’ll have a good group of people," she replies. "But I haven’t heard a response from our mystery man yet."
You knew Aemond Targaryen was the "mystery man" she was referring to. He joined the company after everybody started working remotely. Targaryen is a pretty well-known name; it's one of those ‘old money, filthy rich’ families based in Kings Landing. Since then, you've been trying to figure out why he is working at a small, independent company. Also, he never turns on his camera for meetings, and his profile pic is some kind of dragon symbol, which makes the two of you quite curious.
Through your jobs, you have fairly regular contact with Aemond via emails, chats, and calls. He seemed very quiet and reserved at first, but over time, he’s loosened up a bit. You feel that the two of you get along pretty well, though you’ve heard from Sara that not everyone cares for him. She told you that Cregan Stark can’t stand Aemond, saying he has a chip on his shoulder.
On Friday, you get ready to go out after work while on your lunch break. Once you dress, you put on your favorite red lipstick before getting back to work. Soon your meeting reminder comes up, and you join a bit early. Sara and a few others are already on.
Sara sees you and says, "Hi lady, looking hot! Date night tonight. Ohh, that red looks good on you!" You smile shyly, a little embarrassed, and message her privately, “Thanks, Sara. Do you really need to announce to everyone that I'm going out? And it’s not a date!”
Larys finally joins, and the meeting begins. To no one’s surprise, this meeting was really unnecessary or could have waited until next week. Larys finally begins to wrap it up, but before he does, he asks Aemond a question, but there is no response from him for a moment. Aemond finally responds, apologizing for his momentary distraction.
The next work week passes fairly quickly—nothing out of the ordinary. It’s Wednesday, and as usual, you are chatting with Sara.
"Hey, do me a favor; the next time you talk to Aemond, ask him if he’s coming to Greyjoy's." Sara types in the chat. "I haven’t heard back from him, and I’m dying to see what he looks like."
You chuckle as you answer, "I’ve talked to him a few times already this week; it's unusual for him to call this much. Oh, he asked me how my date went. Thanks, Sara."
"He calls you; I just get emails from him, and he asks a non-work-related question? Hmmm, anything else?" she asks.
"Yeah, he said the red lipstick looked good on me," you tell her.
"So you get calls, a question, and a compliment? In a few days? That’s more than I’ve gotten from him in six months," she says. "Funny. I say you have a date, and he pays attention."
"Oh, stop; you're making something out of nothing," you tell her. "But he does sound hot. Kind of low and sexy, with a bit of an accent."
You’re pretty much caught up with your work, so you decide to message Aemond about joining the group next weekend.
"Hi Aemond. Did you get Sara’s email about everyone getting together next Saturday?"
"Yes, I did," he responds.
"Are you going?" you ask.
"I haven’t decided. It’s not really my kind of thing, and I’d only go for one reason," he replies.
"What reason is that?"
He replies, "To see you."
"Oh, you’re funny," you say.
After that, there was no response from him, but a few minutes later, you get an incoming call from him.
"Yes, Aemond," you answer.
"I’m not being funny; I’m serious. I would only go to see you."
"Well, I’m flattered, but you still haven’t said if you are going or not," you remind him.
"I have a better idea. Meet me at Sapphires for a drink on Friday," he asks.
You are not sure what to say for a moment, since you weren’t expecting this.
Sensing your hesitation, he adds, "Just a drink or two. If you don’t like me, it’s not like you actually see me at work."
You give in to your curiosity and decide to accept. "Alright, Sapphires on Friday, but give me your number since I have no idea how to find you there."
"Don’t worry, I’ll find you, but we’ll exchange numbers anyway." 
With the summer heatwave continuing, you opt for a simple navy blue dress and add your favorite red lipstick as a final touch before heading out to meet Aemond.
Sapphires, a cozy cocktail bar, has a chill ambiance and eclectic decor. Cool air conditioning, contemporary music, and softer light greet you as soon as you step through the black doors. Glancing around, you notice a tall man with beautiful silvery blonde hair standing at the end of the bar, looking directly at you.
As he begins walking towards you, 'Please let that be Aemond'  is your only thought.
He wears black pants and a button-down black shirt, his sleeves rolled up on his arms. His hair is long and loose, and the way he looks at you is part smile, part smirk, which you find very alluring.
"Glad you could make it," he says charmingly. "You look lovely this evening. That red is such a pretty color on you."
‘Damn, he’s handsome.’ "Aemond, hello and thank you. It's good to finally meet you," you say, grinning at him.
He responds, 'The pleasure is all mine. I have a table for us in the back."
As he leads you to a small corner booth, he asks what you would like to have. While you sit down, he places a drink order with the bartender before joining you. You exchange a few pleasantries before your drinks are quickly brought over.
"Thank you," you say. As you take a sip of your wine, you take in his features. His face is angular, with sharp edges, and a scar runs from his forehead, through his brow, and down his cheek. His eyes are a beautiful blue.
"You’re welcome. Have you been here before?" he asks, his long, slim fingers resting on his glass.
"Yes, but it’s been a while. It hasn’t changed, though," you tell him. "Do you come here often?"
Aemond nods. "Yes, a few times. I prefer a more relaxed atmosphere."
The conversation is flowing easily, along with another round of drinks and a shared appetizer plate. As the evening progresses, you are pleasantly surprised by how much you enjoy his company and how attractive you find him. You try to keep your gaze subtle, noticing the contrast of his shirt against his pale skin and the veins running up his forearms. You also sense the attraction is mutual, catching quick, enticing stares from him.
You bite your bottom lip as you debate asking him something you've been dying to know.
Aemond arches his brow, watching you. "There you go again, biting that lip.” He looks amused as he adds, "You know you do that when you’re trying to decide whether or not to say something."
"I do?" you say, surprised by his observation.
Aemond gives you that little half smirk again: "Yes, you do. Now, what do you want to ask me?"
"It's none of my business, and you don't have to answer, but I have to ask,” you begin, hoping he doesn’t think you are trying to pry. “Your family is a big deal; why are you here working for our little company?" 
"It’s complicated," he sighs. He hesitates for a moment before continuing, "My father plays favorites, and I’m not his favorite. After I got my degree, I tried working for the family company, but I soon realized it wouldn’t matter what I accomplished or how hard I worked. It’s already been decided who inherits and who gets what corporate titles."
"I suppose family and business can get messy," you say with an understanding nod.
"My family is messy to begin with, so I decided to strike out on my own," he shrugs.
He continues on about his family, telling you a little about his parents and his siblings. He continues into a little of his family’s long history, including a very old family legend.
You grin at him and say, "Wait, let me get this straight. An ancient Targaryen legend says your ancestors rode fire-breathing dragons. Seriously, what were they smoking?"
He chuckles, "That is the legend. We were a family of dragonriders."
You look at him playfully and say, "I can see you riding a huge dragon. I see black leather, a long coat, a sword, and your hair blowing in the wind. You could pull that off."
"Do you think so?" he asks with a laugh.
You say, "You would certainly look good," unable to contain your flirtatiousness.
Aemond leans closer to you, not even trying to hide the seductive look in his eyes. "Do you know what really looks good?" he asked, his voice low and pure temptation to your ears. "Those pretty red lips of yours," he said.
He reaches across the table and runs a finger along the back of your hand, then gently grasps it and rubs his thumb over your skin.
"I can’t stop thinking about those lips; they're driving me crazy." 
You find yourself angling closer to him, partly encouraged by the wine you've had and the powerful attraction to him you're feeling.
"Just curious, but what exactly have you been thinking?" you ask as you gaze into his eyes.
"Hmm, I’d rather show you than tell you," he says, his voice smooth as silk. Moving even closer, you can feel his breath on your neck. When you turn your head a little more towards him, he lets his lips graze across yours. When you part your lips slightly, he kisses you slowly before pulling back slightly.
He brushes his lips against your ear and whispers, "I really want to take you home with me, or go home with you."
You don’t remember the last time you’ve been this attracted to someone this quickly. Just looking at him, you're already getting wet. The glasses of wine you’ve had are just enough to help you make an impulsive decision. As you brush back a lock of his silvery blond hair, you whisper in his ear. "I think I’ll take you home with me. My house is ten minutes from here.”
Aemond quickly pays, leading you out to the parking lot. He insists that you ride with him because you've had several drinks. When you reach his sleek black car, he kisses you again, pushing you against the vehicle before opening the door for you.
During the short drive to your house, you can’t keep your eyes off of him. He has an amazing profile, with a perfect aquiline nose and a jawline that doesn’t quit. 
When you reach your front door, you hope he doesn’t notice the slight shaking of your hands as you unlock it. Leading him inside, you turn on a lamp while he glances around your small but comfortable home. 
Setting your purse down on the couch, you ask if he wants anything.
“Only you,” he responds, slipping his arm around your waist and drawing you against his slender body. His hand moves to the back of your neck, drawing you in for a kiss, while his other hand grips the curve of your hip. He hums against your skin, "I could kiss you for hours. So pretty." He lavishes attention on your lips, sucking and nipping, slipping his tongue into your mouth to entwine with yours.
Your arms wrap around his slim waist, pulling him to you. "You’re not so bad yourself," you whisper breathlessly, returning his kisses with equal fervor. Your hands feel nothing but hard, lean muscle on his body.
He moves on from your kiss-swollen mouth, caressing your neck with his lips and tongue. "Every meeting, I think about how pretty you are. Then you wear that fucking red lipstick. Drove me crazy; all I could think about was that pretty mouth." His voice was low and husky.
You feel his hand moving down your thigh, sneaking under the hem of your dress to squeeze your bare flesh. "Am I living up to your expectations?" you ask prettily as you extricate yourself from his grasp. "The bedroom is this way," you say, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway.
You stop in the middle of your room, holding your hair up. "Want to unzip me?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. The blatant desire on his face excites you, sending shivers through your body.
"My pleasure," he whispers, kissing the back of your neck before slowly pulling down the zipper of your dress, placing soft, wet kisses down your spine as he goes. You hum as you feel your skin tingle and shrug your arms out of your sleeves, letting the dress fall to the floor, before stepping out of it and turning to face him while saying a silent prayer of thanks that you decided to wear the pretty lace bra and panties set.
"You’re overdressed; let me fix that," you say as you start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a patch of blonde hair in the center of his chest. You mimic his kisses as you bare his chest, trailing your lips on his skin. You inhale the scent of him, clean and woodsy, as you taste him, your tongue teasing his nipples, feeling him breathe deeply. Soon you feel his hand in your hair, pulling you back up for another kiss.
As he palms your breasts, Aemond moans into your mouth, kissing you deeply, before reaching around and unfastening your bra. "Perfect fucking tits," he says as he cups them, feeling their weight in his large hands, his thumbs teasing your hardened peaks. He steadily moves you back until you reach your bed. "Lie down," he whispers in your ear.
You turn and crawl onto your bed, giving him a great view of your ass, before settling on your back in the middle of the bed, propped up on your elbows. You watch him strip down to his boxers, his erection straining against the silky fabric, while he never takes his eyes off of you.
You can feel the wetness leaking from your pussy at the sight of him. Long and lean, with defined muscles, you can’t believe how good he looks. With a sigh of appreciation, you gaze at him seductively, exclaiming, "Fuck, you're gorgeous."
With a sly, sexy smirk on his face, he gazes at you. "Take off your panties for me," he instructs you, staring as you comply while palming his cock over his boxers. "Good girl, now show me that beautiful pussy of yours."
You shiver at his silky, smooth voice before spreading your legs wide to give him a full view of the most intimate part of your body. "Like what you see? Your voice is low with arousal. Your entire body is aflame with lust, and he has barely even touched you.
"Mmm, yes, I do," he replies as he takes off his boxers, his hard cock springing free. "Like what you see?" he asks teasingly before coming over to lie down next to you.
You can’t help licking your lips when you see his very nice-sized cock, flushed with red at the tip. "I like it a lot," you say, nodding your head.
Aemond lowers his head to suck on your nipple, flicking his tongue over it as he slides his hand over your belly and down between your thighs. He moistens his fingers in your wetness, massaging your clit. "You’re already wet for me," his voice whispers against your breast.
You can feel his hard cock against your thigh, hot against your skin. You tangle your fingers in his hair, gasping as he slips a long finger into you, then another, pumping them in and out, curling his fingers to rub the spot of nerves inside you, and brushing his thumb over your clit. You already know you're not going to last long; the tight pleasure builds within you.
"After you come on my fingers, I’m going to turn you over and fuck you," he says between nips on your breast. "You're going to feel so good around my cock; I know it." When he adds a third finger, you can't help but moan, fisting your bed's covers.
Your orgasm hits soon after, with your walls clenching around his fingers as he keeps working them back and forth.
As you lie there panting and wait for your heart to stop pounding, he removes a condom from his pants pocket.
You roll to your side and playfully drag your fingernails along his thigh as you say, "I hate those. Everything is good on my end—all clean with an IUD. I'm willing to skip that, if you are."
Dropping the foil packet on the floor, he said, "Good here too. Now turn over so I can fuck you."
Pulling yourself up on your knees, you feel him move behind you, pushing down on your back slightly while he guides his cock to your entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushes his hard length into you, causing you to gasp at the fullness you feel.
"Fuck, so tight," he hisses, drawing back halfway before plunging back into you. "Put your hands behind your back," he said, holding your wrists together in one of his large hands. Soon, he sets a steady pace, pumping smoothly. "Mmmm... you’re taking my cock so well," he said, praising you.
Every time he pushes his body against yours, soft whines come from your mouth. "Yesss, fuck…" turning your face against your pillows. You feel you will go insane from the sensation of him repeatedly hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, driving himself deep into you again and again.
"Keep making those pretty noises for me," he says, snapping his hips harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin louder, and your whimpers become little cries from the tightening coil of ecstasy deep within you. "Such a good girl," he tells you.
With your wrists pinned behind your back, you’re reduced to mewling pleas, "Don’t stop…close, Aemond," feeling an intense climax building quickly. A few more hard thrusts are all it takes to make you shudder with spasms of euphoric release, leaving you unable to get out more than strangled whines.
Your orgasm causes you to clench around his cock, earning you a grunted "Fuck..." from him. His pace becomes erratic; his fingers dig into your skin as you feel his cock begin to twitch inside you, followed by hot spurts of cum.
Aemond finally releases your wrists, wrapping his arm around your waist and helping hold you steady as you both reel from the aftershocks. He slowly pulls out of you, both of you collapsing onto the bed, panting. He gathers you into his arms, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "Fuck, that was amazing," he murmurs. "You good?"
"Mmm, gonna feel that tomorrow," you say, smiling when you see his look of concern. ‘Worth it," you tell him, snuggling against him.
"Sorry," with another soft kiss. "Let me stay, and I’ll make breakfast in the morning," he whispers in your ear.
"Deal!" you laugh. "Be right back," you say, moving to get up. You grab a long T-shirt before heading into the bathroom, and then return with a damp washcloth for Aemond. "Just toss it in the hamper. I’ll get us some water and snacks."
Once you’re settled back in bed, relaxing next to Aemond, you remember something that makes you start to laugh.
"What’s so funny?" he asks.
"I just remembered what that shade of red lipstick you like so much is called," you say, grinning at him. "Dragon Girl,"
He looks at you, chuckling, and says, "I guess this is just meant to be."
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randomshyperson · 1 year
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Like Real People Do - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
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Summary: Wanda Maximoff is known to be a strict mother - the opposite of you. When a school incident involves your children, you two will need to learn to get along with each other. [Requested]
Warnings: General Fluff, attempted romantic comedy with opposites attract, mild making out at the end, milf wanda being adorable, brief angst for past relationships, found family. | Words: 5.733k
A/N-> My first fic of the year will be Milf!Wanda without smut? What happened to this blog, huh? I was so busy in December that I couldn't post anything, I hope you guys didn't forget about me. This is a very old request that I finished some time ago and never posted, here it is then. Good reading you all!
General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad
--//--
It started with a bloody nose.
It was Wednesday, which meant that you had painting class from ten to eleven in the morning, so when your cell phone rang and Principal Fury's angry voice demanded you not to be late, you could barely think of a decent excuse for your students.
The way to the municipal school was quick and even perilous - you never learned how to drive Natasha's truck properly no matter how hard you tried - but you arrived quickly at least.
America was standing with her arms crossed at the door to the principal's office - the jeans jacket with buttons you took her to buy last year had a bloodstain on the front that made your heart miss a beat. 
"Mom!" Her sulky expression lit up the second she saw you - the girl uncrossed her arms and ran to catch up with you, talking too fast about the mess while you searched her face for bruises. You sighed in relief at not finding any.
"Honey, slow down, I'm not catching any words." You warn her gently, and America giggles awkwardly, taking a deep breath to speak again.
"It wasn't my fault, Mom! It was those idiots who came at us, Billy wasn't doing anything, and when they called him bad names and I just lost my temper and-"
You frown in confusion, but America shuts up because the boardroom door opens and other people come out.
The blood is not America's you realize. It's the boy with ice on his face, accompanied by an equally grumpy adult. The boy also has blood all over the front of his shirt, and from the way, America tenses up and he flinches, you understand that he has been beaten.
"Come on, don't give me any more trouble." Warned the man to the boy who practically ran out. The man waved goodbye politely, and you turned to America, ready to ask, but you heard Mr.Fury call your name.
The room was not empty. There were two boys and a woman in a suit so impeccable that you became very aware of the ink stains on your work overalls. Or maybe it was the way she looked you up and down, with an indecipherable expression.
"Mrs.Romanoff, how nice that you could join us at last." Fury pinned on your lateness, and you smiled awkwardly.
"Sorry, I was in class and my cell phone was off." You mumbled, but he didn't seem to care much, signaling for you to sit down.
America stood beside you but smiled at the boys, who smiled back immediately.
"As I explained to Mrs.Maximoff, something rather unpleasant happened this morning. Your children got into a fight with another group of classmates..."
"And where is the rest of the gang?" You asked curiously, looking around. Fury frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"Well, you said they got into a fight. Nobody fights alone. Where are the other children? I saw the other little boy who went outside looking like he got punched right in the nose, and if you told me it was three against one, then yes, we have a problem."
Fury exchanges a look with Mrs.Maximoff, but the redhead is straightening up in her chair, looking at you curiously.
The principal lets out a short laugh. "Miss Romanoff, the confusion started at recess, where America assaulted five classmates. The other four are in the infirmary and-"
You cut Fury off with excitement, turning to your daughter beside you. "Five? Kid, you've been practicing, haven't you? Damn, your mother would be impressed. "
America laughs shyly, but Fury exclaims indignantly. "Excuse me, Mrs.Romanoff, are you really encouraging violent behavior in your 13-year-old daughter?"
 "It depends on what the fight is about." You mutter, but Fury sighs indignantly.
"Violence is never the answer!" Retorts the principal seriously, but his line makes the boys exclaim indignantly.
"They were the ones who attacked us first! America was only defending my brother!" Reported one of them, and you and Mrs.Maximoff exchanged quick glances at the confusion.
"That's right, we were just standing there, and those idiots came at us with curses! If it wasn't for America-"
"Quiet, all of you!" Fury cut in angrily, and the children grumbled but obeyed. He massaged his forehead. "It's clear that the fight started with America, so please could you tell me exactly why you assaulted your colleagues, Miss?"
But America hesitates and looks at the boys, who bow their heads. She sighs.
"It was something silly about grades." She lies - You can see it’s not true because whenever she tells a lie, her forehead frowns slightly and Natasha taught you to recognize everything about little Miss Chavez. You don’t understand why she’s lying though. 
Fury sighs wearily. "Are you sure that's all it was, miss?"
She looks down at the floor and nods. You lick your lips.
"Fury, I wonder if we could talk alone. Just me, Miss Maximoff, and you? They shouldn't be missing class."
Fury hesitates but eventually agrees. Once the children leave, you clear your throat.
"I want to know what will be done with the group that attacked them, Fury."  You state without waiting any longer, surprising a little. Nick clears his throat.
"Your daughter just clarified that it was a silly argument over notes, Miss Romanoff, you don't expect me to-"
"You know it wasn't just that." To his surprise, Wanda intervenes, sounding irritated and tired. She takes a deep breath. "It wouldn't be the first time Billy experienced bullying in his school environment, but you promised me that this school was a safe space when I came to enroll them, Mr.Fury."
Nick clears his throat clumsily, adjusting his tie. "Mrs.Maximoff, at no time-"
"America told me they insulted him." You cut in, exchanging a look with the redhead. "The kids who attacked them came in cursing Billy. That's unacceptable, Fury. You say I encourage violent behavior? No. Natasha and I taught America to stand up for herself and for the people important to her. Nat was in the military and taught her how to fight. You can't expect her to listen to someone use low insults with her friends and do nothing."
"You cannot teach your daughter to punch anyone who irritates her, Miss Romanoff." Fury retorts seriously, before turning his face to the other, "And this is a safe environment, Wanda. We have anti-bullying programs, and when the other boys leave the infirmary, they will answer for this event as well. But for now, it's your kids who need to understand that fighting doesn't go unpunished."
"That doesn't seem very fair." You mutter but Fury casts you a serious look. 
"Because they insulted them? Tell me what happens when they're adults, then." You open your mouth but Fury holds up his hand, rhetorical question. "I tell you, at the very least a lawsuit for assault. I understand it's important to tell them to defend themselves, but they also need to understand how the world works. They are children, by god. You can't tell them to go out punching their way whenever someone wrongs them."
"I guess that's easy to say when we're not the ones experiencing the aggression." Wanda mutters, and Fury gives a short laugh.
"Wanda, I assure you I know the feeling of hearing horrible offenses and having to put my head down and keep walking because the punishments would be worse for me than for those who offended me." Says Nick. "Billy is only twelve, he should learn to respond to things like that in a healthy and safe way. Teaching any of these kids to respond violence with violence puts them at risk, and I'm sure you understand that." Wanda sighs but nods in defeat. Nick clears his throat. "I believe detention for a month is a good punishment."
You sigh, but Wanda hesitates. "They'd be out by three, wouldn't they? Couldn't you do it earlier or between classes? I work office hours on Tuesdays and Wednesdays..."
Nick opens his mouth but you speak first. "I can pick them up." You say casually. "They're friends with America, right? They can stay over if you need."
The redhead blinks in surprise. "Wouldn't that be inconvenient?"
You laugh shrugging your shoulders. "Not at all. America is usually alone in the afternoon while I'm in the studio. It would be nice if she had some company."
Wanda smiles at you and your stomach does a complete turn. Nick claps his hands together.
"I guess we have a deal then. Thank you both for attending, even though it was not the most pleasant of reasons... I'll keep in touch, Miss Maximoff, Miss Romanoff."
You got up first but opened the door for Wanda to pass. Outside, she seemed in a hurry, checking her cell phone, and you didn't want to hold her any longer. Surprisingly, she called you before you left for your car.
"I want your number." She declares, and you can't help the teasing expression that appears on your face. Wanda corrects herself immediately, "B-because of the ride, so I can confirm that everything is okay..."
"I know, I get it." You assure her with a laugh, accepting the cell phone she holds out to put your number in. As you type, you take the opportunity to introduce yourself properly since you haven't had the chance to do so before. Wanda smiles before doing the same. "Here you go, Miss Maximoff."
"Just Wanda is fine." She says gently, accepting the cell phone back. "Thank you again, for the favor."
"You can return it by joining me for coffee." You have no idea where that came from. And it seems to surprise Wanda as much as you surprised yourself. But there's no going back because she smiles and you know you meant it. "Or a tea, or juice. Maybe vitamin?"
Wanda giggles, and it's a charm. You glare at her but she looks at her cell phone again.
"Sorry, I have to go." She looks really disappointed, and you notice that her phone has started vibrating on a call. She looks at you again. "I'll text you about that coffee."
"I'll wait." You mumble, knowing she heard just by the soft smile she still holds as she answers the phone before waving goodbye and turning in the opposite direction of the parking lot.
You sigh loudly as you are left alone, trying to figure out where to see the strange feeling in your stomach that you think you haven't felt in years.
–//–
Wanda probably forgot about the coffee. You don't blame her, because America has every social network possible, and through her friendship with Billy Maximoff on Facebook, you are able to find Wanda Maximoff's only two social networks. 
Her professional profile is impeccable. She is an important figure in a major New York company, but you are not too sure whether she is a writer or a manager, or both. Either way, with so many meetings and lectures in her feed, she is probably the busiest person you have ever met. 
The only personal profile she has is a Facebook profile that hasn't been updated in almost three years. It is public, and has family photos - the vast majority with the twins - but what attracts attention is the tall man next to her. If the photos were tagged, it was removed today. There was no link to his profile. You also noticed that the relationship status was still Married, and tried to ignore the burning in your strangers with this information. 
There should be no problem with Wanda being a married woman. You should have expected this, actually. In fact, you shouldn't expect anything at all. Losing Natasha wasn't exactly recent, but you weren't looking for someone to take her place. Ever.
Calling Wanda for coffee was a kind act in the interest of friendship, you convinced yourself. After all, with your antisocial nature, you didn't have many friends in New York. 
America found you stalking Wanda's Facebook, however, and had a very different idea.
"She's a total milf, huh?"
You closed the laptop hard, looking at your daughter with indignation. "Excuse me, young lady?"
America shrugged. "Miss Maximoff, mom. She's so gorgeous, like a movie star. Everyone keeps staring when she comes to pick up the twins."
You grimace, hugging the laptop against your chest. "America, I don't think it's very appropriate for you to say such things to me, don't you agree?"
Your daughter laughs confusedly. "But you thought so too. You're just there stalking her on the Internet..."
"That's it, out." You stand up embarrassed, ignoring America's mischievous laughter in the hallway as you close the door. You grunt red-faced, putting your hands over your face and trying to get the image of Wanda out of your head. America shouts from the hallway:
"I'll order Enchiladas for dinner!" - You open the door just to say thanks.
To your surprise, Wanda texts you the next day. 
It shouldn't really be a surprise, since the children's detention would start now, but still, you were so busy delivering some paintings that you almost completely forgot about it.
Hey Miss Romanoff, it's Wanda. Is everything okay for the kids to stay at your place this afternoon as we agreed? After detention? 
You are listening to music, so you ask the virtual assistant to read the message while you continue painting one of the higher boards. When you realize who it is from, you almost fall down the stairs you are on.
Your cell phone screen smears blue paint when you pick it up in one go, having forgotten your dirty hands, and you curse softly. 
Trying to sound casual, you decide on a voice message.
"Hey, Miss Max-Wanda, hey." Great start. "Sure, don't worry, I'll send you my address to come to pick them up later. And just Y/N is fine."
Wanda replies with an emoji heart, and you try to understand why yours is racing so fast.
–//–
Thomas and William Maximoff are two little devils. And America loves them, so you do too.
They play in the backyard and in the living room, surprisingly in harmony over sharing the video game after detention. You go back to work in the studio and keep the music down so you can hear them, and before you know it, the hours have passed and a red pickup truck is pulling up outside your house.
Wanda, on the other hand, doesn't seem too pleased to see that none of the children have had a decent meal after school, or done their homework. And you showing up with a dirty paint apron doesn't seem to help her judgment much.
"I don't usually cook, for the safety of the kitchen."  You try to joke to ease the tension and get giggles from the smaller ones, but only a forced smile from the other, who continues with her arms crossed. "They're not hungry, you know. There were snacks and cookies..."
"Very healthy." Wanda interrupts wryly. "Get your backpacks boys, and thank them for having you. Let's go home before it gets later."
You and America watch Maximoff's hurried exit until Wanda's car disappears at the end of the street, and it is your daughter who speaks first.
"I think she likes you."
You chuckle incredulously, turning your face to America. "What gives you that idea? The deadly stare?"
The smaller girl rolls her eyes amused. "No, Mom! She didn't say she wasn't coming here anymore. And besides, Tommy told me she's kind of too straitlaced... he may have used the word crazy, but I don't think that's very appropriate for me to say."
You chuckle through your nose, ruffling America's hair as you pull her into the house with you. 
"Well, the boys are your friends, so Wanda is going to have to get used to me because if there's one thing we take seriously in this family it's loyalty to our friends, isn't it, little Chavez?" 
America smiles warmly, stealing a glance at Nat's painting on the wall before nodding in agreement. You check your watch.
"Maybe Wanda is right, though. What do you want for dinner? Real food. I can prepare something-"
America grimaces. "I want pizza!"
"But kiddo-"
"With plenty of pepperonis!"
You roll your eyes, unable to say no to that lovely girl.
–//–
The next day, when Billy and Tommy take out lunch boxes from their backpacks, you want to chuckle. It's so... you don't even know what to call that.
"What is that supposed to be?" America asks in a mixture of indignation and disgust, standing behind the boys sitting at the table. Tommy and Billy exchange sighs.
"It's called Zucchini Boats." Says William, poking at the snack with his fork - which Wanda also sent in her purse - "Mom is a vegetarian and so are we."
"That's what she thinks," Tommy mutters mischievously, receiving an elbow from his brother. "It's good, America. Want some?"
"No, I'm fine." Your daughter says quickly, exchanging a look with you before leaving the twins to grab some of the juice you are bringing them on a tray. 
"Wow, that looks ... grown up." You comment with an impressed laugh as soon as you see the food the twins are pinching half-heartedly. "Do you guys always eat so fancy?"
"Yeah, all the time." Tommy replies grumpily. "Mom pays for vegetarian snacks at school, and it's always this kind of expensive food at the work parties she brings us to."
"Tommy, I don't think you should talk like that..." Billy whispers uncertainly but is cut off by the other.
"I can't stand eating asparagus or cabbage anymore! And I hate Lentils!" Challenges the twin, pushing the lunchbox onto the table.
America sips her juice in silence, and you sigh.
"Well, here's what we'll do then, little Maximoff." You say, picking up the bowl and some of the food that has fallen on the table. "I'll order hamburger and fries, and leave it on the counter. And you guys choose what you want to eat if you feel hungry."
Tommy loved the idea. Billy thanked him, but said he would stick with what his mother prepared. In any case, you ordered enough for everyone.
When the food arrived, you, America, and Tommy ate first. The Maximoff was very excited about eating meat - He eventually told you between bites that vegetarianism, as well as a dozen other habits, came to his family after his father passed away, and you were so surprised by the information that you could hardly nod in agreement. So Wanda was a widow like you? What a heartbreaking coincidence.
After you finished eating, you needed to continue working, and you left the children to do it. When you came back for some keys about ten minutes later, Tommy and America were playing video games in the living room and little Billy was eating French fries on the counter and having the time of his life. You didn't dare bother him.
The whole plot of Wanda and her vegetarian lunch boxes for 12-year-olds that were half going to waste - you insisted that they at least take a few bites out of respect for their mother's work - went on for three whole weeks.
It was on the penultimate day of detention when Wanda was already smiling as she came to pick up the kids, that she found out and showed up at your door during school hours.
"Sorry for the wait, I'm teaching a class." You tell her clumsily as you welcome her into the small makeshift office, while your students take a break in the studio in the other room. 
Wanda hasn't even taken off her coat and is still holding her keys in her hands. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." She says. "I appreciate the favor of picking up the boys and letting them stay here, but it has come to my attention your inappropriate behavior, and I-"
"Wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt in confusion. 
Wanda doesn't hesitate, adjusting her posture. "The food I prepare for my children is properly planned with a nutritionist, and William has told me about your interference in their diet." You stare at her without reaction, and she takes advantage of your shock to continue speaking. "I respect that you are raising your daughter without any attention to a healthy diet, but I cannot allow you to do the same-"
"No, wait a second there." You cut her off with a short laugh, gesturing a little and without realizing it, moving closer, which makes Wanda take a step backward in that small office. "I never told them to stop eating your fancy food."
She grimaces. "But you bought junk food!" She rations angrily. "What do you expect children to choose?"
You chuckle. "Exactly, Wanda! They are children! You're the one who's feeding them like they're 60-year-old culinary critics!"
"A healthy diet is essential for their development-"
"Billy has never eaten pizza before! Do you understand how insane that sounds?"
Wanda feels her blood boil, much like you. And she doesn't realize she's screaming, much the same as you. 
"Oh, what a crime not to want to give my two children a fat bomb! Arrest me for preventing cardiovascular disease when they are adults!
"What the hell are you talking about?" You retort with an indignant chuckle, but Wanda steps forward, her gaze deadly.
"I don't tell you how to raise your daughter, so don't you dare do it to me." She says seriously, and you swallow dryly. 
"I never said anything like that." You retort. "It's not a crime to offer actual good food to a child."
Wanda frowns. "My food is good!" She defends herself almost offended, but you sigh wearily.
"For the adult palate? Yes, it is. I've tasted it, you have talent I admit." You say, surprising her a little by the compliment. Her posture almost breaks. "But for the boys? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but they don't like it, okay? Especially Thomas. I didn't want you to find out like this, but he hasn't followed your all-important eating schedule in months, Miss Maximoff. He keeps buying candy and junk food around-"
"What?" she exclaims indignantly, turning away to walk around the room. You sigh. "Where does he get the money for that?"
You shrug casually. "I don't know, isn't he kind of pretty popular? Maybe he sells some toys or homework. I used to do that when I was young. And well, I give America an allowance and they hang out together a lot and-
"So you're the problem! Again!" Wanda suddenly accuses you, leaving you in shock. "You and your daughter, stay away from my boys!"
"Wanda, what...?"
But she turned her back on you and slammed the door hard on her way out. You huffed loudly, pressing your face between your hands for a long moment. Complete confusion in your mind. 
–//–
You're not sure what you expected for the last day of detention, but it sure wasn't the call from the secretary about America skipping class. 
You called her immediately, and to add to your despair, she didn't answer until an hour later, when you had already taken the car and were driving around town after her.
The arcade parking lot was empty because all the kids were in school. Except for a few.
You got down from the truck, and this time, you knew the blood was Billy's.
"Have you gone crazy? I drove all over town after you, America! Where-"
But she ran up to you, hugging you tightly, and you fell silent, worried. "I'm sorry, Mom!"
After massaging her back gently, you turned away to the boys sitting on the sidewalk. Bending down to Billy's height, you grabbed from the other twin the ice pack he held over his brother's bruised forehead.
"What happened, guys?" You asked, and all three of them started talking together. With a sigh, you shushed them. "Just one at a time, please."
America stepped forward. "We weren't going to skip the whole day, Mom, I promise! It's just that Tommy forgot to do his chemistry homework, so we were going to skip it so he wouldn't get in trouble!"
Tommy nods immediately. "We came here because we weren't going to hang around the school at the risk of getting caught." Continues the boy. "We were going to play and come back as soon as the next class time started."
Billy complains softly about the pain and you try to press more gently. "So?" You ask them to continue, but they don't, exchanging hesitant glances. 
It is William who continues the story, his gaze in his lap. "It was the idiot brother of a classmate of ours. He was at the arcade, and he recognized me. He said he was furious that I got his brother in trouble. And he said... He said there's no place in this town for a faggy like me."
You sigh immediately, putting down the ice to hold his shoulder with your other hand. "Oh, Billy, I'm sorry."
He sniffles lightly, shrugging. "It's okay, I'm used to it. America and Tommy were buying soda, so the jerk threw me out here. As soon as they came, the guy ran off."
"It was the arcade owner who gave us the ice." America clarifies, coming over to sit down on the sidewalk across from Billy, and slipping an arm over his. "Sorry for taking so long, buddy. Next time I'm going to break his leg-"
"Hey, listen up here you three." You interrupt, looking at them seriously. "Violence is never the solution."
"But, Mom, they-"
"I know." You cut her off with a nod. "And it's unfair that it happened. And all we want to do is return that anger, but we can't be like that. Billy, I'm really sorry that you've heard cruel things. There's a place for you wherever you choose, that boy is just being an ignorant fool. Don't listen to him." You assure holding the hand of the boy in front of you. "You three are going back to school, and I'll take care of it the right way, okay?"
At first, they don't seem very willing, but eventually, they agree. You direct them back to school, and are not surprised at the increased detention Fury gives them for skipping class. Nick, however, is the one who provides the numbers of the parents of the kids who attacked them, and of a lawyer. 
He comments something about having called Miss Maximoff but to no avail before thanking you for bringing the children back safely and saying goodbye.
You are walking back to your car when Wanda parks as if in a race movie.
"I'm glad you're here, Wanda, we need to talk." You announce loudly, walking to her car. She turns it off, takes out the key, and gets down, slamming the door. 
"I don't have time, the director called me during a meeting, and I-"
"I know." You cut her off, and make no mention of moving out of her way, trapping her between cars. "Our kids were skipping class."
She chuckles dryly. "That's what I'm talking about, your daughter is a terrible influence. I wasn't wrong when-"
"She was helping Tommy." You cut in again, crossing your arms. "Yeah. He didn't do his chemistry homework or something, and they decided to skip the first period so he wouldn't get a scolding. Because, yes, he'd rather take his chances on the street than smear the perfect record mommy wants for him."
Wanda tilts her head. "Watch your mouth." She warns between teeth, and you roll your eyes.
"Billy got punched." You declare, and Wanda's posture breaks completely. Desperation fills her expression.
"W-what... Excuse me, I have-" 
"It's taken care of, it was just a scratch I looked at it myself." You interrupt, steadying your feet in her path, and ignoring the way she looks you up and down. "But these assaults, Wanda, we need to get a handle on this."
She is surprised, in a good way. And she swallows dryly, trying to adjust her posture. "That's not your problem."
You don't care, pulling out of your pocket the lawyer's paper Fury gave you to hand to her 
as you quickly explain the whole story. Wanda is unresponsive until she sniffles slightly, and this breaks your posture.
Your natural instinct is to touch her, but you hold back, clenching your hands, and Wanda turns her face away, hugging her own body as she controls her crying.
"Forgive me, I just..." She takes a deep breath. "They're all I have. And they're perfect, just the way they are. I just wanted to...do the best for them. Keep them safe, and happy. But apparently, New York is even worse than Westview."
"Hey, I understand that." You can't resist, raising a hand to her back, and thanking the gods that Wanda leans into the touch instead of backing away. "Some things are beyond our control. But I think you're doing a damn fine job, Wanda."
She raises her eyes at you. "Really?"
"Yeah." You assure her with a smile. "Your kids are great. Smart, so independent, and good-natured. Very united and loyal. You've done a really good job with them-"
Wanda hugs you tightly around the neck, cutting off your sentence. You smile, putting your arms around her just as the surprise fades. She sighs. "Thank you." She whispers, and you squeeze tighter before letting go.
"Call Jen Walters about this. Nick said she's a good lawyer." You remind her, and Wanda nods. You put your hands in your pockets and stare at her for a moment. "Were you at some fancy event? You look good."
She blushes, smiling shyly and adjusting her suit. "Something like that. Just a new book launch, so phone off. As soon as I saw the missed calls, I ran here..."
You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, I noticed the Fast and Furious you pulled out." You joke getting a laugh and a slap on the arm.
As the laughter dies down, you face each other. And Wanda is the first to swallow dryly and shift her gaze away.
"I should go there... just to make sure everything is okay." She says pointing to the school. You clear your throat and finally give her space to walk through.
"Sure, sure. I see you...?"
Wanda looks at you over her shoulder, a soft smile on her lips. "Over coffee." She invites, her smile widening with your surprise. "It's about time, don't you think?"
You nod, swallowing your anxiety. "I can’t wait." You guarantee, and when she leaves, your cheeks are flushed like hers.
–//–
Wanda doesn't call. But she doesn't have to.
The detentions are over; you're pretty sure she threatened Nick Fury on her way back to the office, but whatever she said, she made sure that the victims of the story stopped being punished. Tommy received a short warning for his duty, but the matter was soon forgotten.
You were surprised that even with the end of the detention, the Maximoff twins were on your doorstep on Tuesday. And next to them, Wanda.
"If you're not busy, I was thinking we could all have lunch together. I got some free time at the office." Clarified the matriarch, and well, you had a dozen or so orders to make and they would all have to wait because no chance at all of you dismissing going out with Wanda.
She is infinitely more pleasant company than the impression you got during your fights. She is a fierce mother, but she is so much more than that. She's brilliant, passionate, and generous. You find yourself captured by her like a work of art, which you can stare at for hours and hours, trying to absorb every detail and discover others.
Lunch turns into afternoon snacks, and into dinners. The Maximoffs show up at your house on a weekly basis, Wanda cooks for you sometimes, and at other times allows herself to eat junk food with everyone else.
And family dates become the two of you dates when she kisses you.
It takes you completely by surprise, honestly. 
You have been dancing into a family routine for amazing weeks, and after one of the dinners, it gets late enough to insist that they sleep over at your place. 
The boys stay in America's room, and you take over the living room so that Wanda is comfortable in her room.
When she shows up at dawn in the kitchen while you're making tea, the first thing she says is "I feel terrible about making you sleep on the couch. I can't sleep because of it."
You smile and separate a mug of tea for her too.
"I think we finally had that drink." You comment a long moment later, as you pour the tea for yourselves.
Wanda smiles mischievously. "I don't think it counts." She murmurs mysteriously, and you raise an eyebrow.
"No?"
Wanda hums in the negative. "We've drunk together a dozen times now, Y/N." She retorts, holding the cup close to her mouth. "If you want to take me out, you need to genuinely ask."
She sips her tea, and you swallow dryly as you stare into her lips. Blinking away when you notice her naughty smile, you ignore your nervousness, and retort, "I asked, you're the one who didn't call me." 
Wanda raises her eyebrow, taken aback that you brought back this information from so many weeks later. She doesn't lose her composure, however. "I thought it wouldn't be appropriate when given a second thought about it."
You sip some tea. "And what do you think of us now?"
Instead of answering, she leans over the countertop. She grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you hard. Your whole body vibrates, and you gasp. But she lets you go before you have the chance to respond properly.
"I think if you don't ask me out soon, I'll have to do it myself." She teases affectedly, breathing out of breath as you do. You laugh, nodding.
"Go out with me." 
She raises an eyebrow. "Is that an order?" She teases, and you grunt.
"God, Wanda, come here." That's what you say before pulling her back to you, mouth to mouth.
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The Gang's All Here
Biker!John Price X Wife!Reader
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 It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.
a/n:this fic was inspired by this GORGEOUS artwork by @yakowo and I could not get the idea out of my head, also for anyone who voted in favor for the tattoos? you're welcome (P.S. I'm so sorry for making you guys wait MONTHS for this!)
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(These are the tattoos I picture John having!)
John wasn’t the type of person that you’d expect to come onto base riding a motorcycle, a Harley Davidson no less. So, when Soap and Gaz were outside cracking jokes together their jaws dropped as John parked the roaring beast. When the hell had he managed to find the time to ride? It felt like they’d been gone for the last year nonstop. Gaz had heard all about how much you missed John. It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.
“Laswell approved the time off, we’re gonna get to spend Halloween with the missus this year.” Gaz was probably more excited than anyone.
It may have been due to the fact you were all planning on matching, Gaz had picked Simon’s name from the hat, while you and Johnny were going to be matching. John downright refused, saying he couldn’t trust the boys to pick his costume. He’d made you swear to secrecy, no one was allowed to know his costume until Halloween. You weren’t complaining though, not after he’d promised to let you help ‘grease him up’.
“Better not get too rowdy this year, lord knows Johnny nearly got arrested last time.” Of course that had been because someone had tried to roughly grab you when John was off getting you drinks.
The boys had always been quite protective of you, doing whatever they could to make sure you were safe and keep all the creeps away. You’d been married to their captain the entire time they’d all known one another, so you were the co-captain in their eyes. Johnny was definitely the most protective, he saw you as a little sister(even though you were older than him). Simon would simply glare at anyone who looked at you wrong, scaring them off before they could utter a single word. Gaz would throw down with anyone who dared utter a single bad thing about you, how dare you disrespect his co-captain!
“He said he’d be on his best behavior, something about not wanting to anger the missus this time.” You’d turned into a scolding mother when Johnny began to act out, it was hilarious to watch.
John had thrown you over his shoulder even while you were kicking and screaming to be put down so you could continue your scolding. Johnny learned that night not to piss you off lest he deal with your wrath for the rest of the night. It was a comical thing, knowing you could insight fear into a man who sees death for a living.
“Better not, she told me they’re doing matching costumes and I can’t risk her needin’ to get a costume last minute.” That wasn’t to say you wouldn’t be able to find something from your closet, but you’d planned this months prior.
“Simon and I are too, you’re gonna be the odd man out captain.” Gaz smirked over at the other man, noticing the way his brow raised slightly.
“You and Ghost are wearing matching costumes? How’d you convince him?” Simon wasn’t afraid to let loose and enjoy himself, but wearing a costume to match with Kyle? That was shocking.
“Said he wanted to wear something to help get some attention, can’t say much else.” Gaz was going to keep his lips sealed until halloween had arrived, it was going to be the surprise of the century.
John knew better than to try and pry, this was out of his hands and as long as you were happy, he was happy. His mind began to wander for a few seconds, what would the holidays be like when you had your own little tots running around. You’d probably dress them up into cute halloween costumes and take them trick or treating. It didn’t sound like such a horrible thing at the moment, seeing you take the little ones up to the doors to get candy you’d sneak for yourself. No, no thinking about things like that when you’re at work and have important things to do, like a mountain of paperwork.
“Keep an eye on things and make sure the new recruits aren’t acting like idiots, please.” John waited for Gaz to acknowledge his words before heading down to his office.
The picture from your wedding day was the only one he’d been willing to take to base with him, not wanting to risk the wrong person knowing about you. His wedding ring sat alongside his dog tags, resting against his chest every day. It was a reminder that no matter how stressful things could be, he would always go home to you at the end of the day. They weren’t due for another assignment until the end of November, mainly because Laswell needed more intel first. Maybe that was the only reason they were allowed the few weeks of leave that was granted. Oh well.
It was nearing seven at night by the time John realized he hadn’t so much as left his desk to get a drink or even a bite to eat. Shit, you were going to absolutely ream his ass when he got home and you found out. This wasn’t the first time, and absolutely wasn’t going to be the last that he’d completely forgotten about himself. Simon had given him hell from time to time, telling him he needed to eat before you showed up at the base yourself. It had only happened once, though that was more due to the fact he needed the paperwork he’d forgotten and not because he hadn’t left his desk for..ten hours.
Standing up and stretching his tired limbs he groaned at the exertion and cracking from his idle bones. Shit, he had definitely been sitting for too long if standing for a few seconds sent shivers down his spine almost instantly. Time to get something to eat and head home for the next few weeks. He’d barely made it out of his office before Johnny was running over with what could only be described as childlike glee.
“Captain! Was hopin’ I could catch you.” The plus side of working alongside Johnny was that he could get shit done when necessary, the downside is when he was excited the man could talk forever.
“Just grabbing a quick bite and heading out, have you got your leave papers yet?” John didn’t have much time to talk, not if he wanted to make it home before you were in bed already.
“Just this mornin’, I wanted to ask about the bike.” Johnny was nervous, given that the last time he’d seen one was nothing more than a quick glance on their last mission.
“What about it?” John turned into the cafeteria, grabbing a plastic wrapped sandwich that was most likely made that morning.
Johnny wrung his hands together nervously, if questioned he would vehemently deny that his palms had become sweaty when asking his higher-up about something as simple as a motorcycle. Maybe he could just ask you about it instead, surely John had told you some things here and there and you’d managed to pick up any information.
“I uhh, I was wondering where you got it, she’s a beaut.” There, he’d ripped off the bandaid and didn’t need to make this any harder than it needed to be.
“Found her through a seller, she was in pretty rough shape so I’ve been fixin’ her up on leaves.” The bike was John’s pride and joy, second of course to you, but he loved his harley in a different way.
“Oh! Okay, that’s cool.” Johnny nodded, keeping a slight distance between himself and his captain.
“Any reason you’re asking?” John grabbed a bottle of water before turning to sit down at one of the open tables.
Johnny felt his nerves skyrocket, how does one admit they’d always wanted to ride but were too afraid of nearly getting themselves killed? His mother had given him hell for it, saying he’d lose his life by being reckless. It had deterred the idea for years, but seeing so many bikes made him want to do it anyway. 
“No reason, see you later cap.” Johnny nodded once before heading out of the room.
John wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t confused, it wasn’t often that people even saw him on the rumbling biped vehicle, but given the opportunity he always took it. Nothing more invigorating than feeling the wind whip around you, the sound of the bike echoing behind. You would beg John to take you for a ride constantly, especially on date night.
The recruits were quiet as they sat amongst themselves, discussing what their next drills would possibly be. It suddenly hit John how old he was, he’d been so used to making sure that everyone else was taken care of that he hadn’t taken the time to really look at life. You’d both discussed having children when the both of you were truly ready. If it came down that neither of you would truly be ready for a child, then neither of you would become parents. He’d just be the fun uncle that could send the kiddos home hyped up on sugar.
After he’d finished his sandwich and water it was time to head out. Any paperwork was sent off for review, and if it wasn’t up to Laswell’s standards she could wait until he was back. Getting home and relaxing for the rest of the night was high on his priority list at the moment. Maybe the two of you could order take out instead of cooking, maybe even a glass of wine to go along with it. You’d be dealing with everyone in a few days anyway, god where had the year gone that it was already Halloween again.
The sun was nearly gone by the time John had made it out of his office, grabbing the keys to his bike and heading towards the garage. Ghost’ voice was booming, words sharp as a whip towards whomever he was angry with. John sighed deeply before turning towards the shooting range, if it was a new recruit this could get ugly fast. And much to his annoyance it was not one, but four new recruits, each of them looked terrified as Simon nearly towered over them.
“Do you think this is a joke? Something to laugh about?!” Ghost was enraged, hands clenched into fists by his side.
“No sir.” They spoke in unison, each with their heads down, gazes locked on the floor.
“The next time you come in here thinkin’ you’re gonna play with the weapons, I will have you removed, permanently.” Ghost took gun safety quite seriously, one wrong move could end the lives of multiple people.
“Yes sir.” They all nodded, waiting for further instructions.
“Get out of my sight.” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until they all scrambled away before turning to face John.
There were no words shared between the two men, neither of them needed to say anything to get their points across anyway. However, John wanted to make sure that Simon would be alright before leaving for the night.
“Still coming over for Halloween?” John was still curious on what Gaz had picked for the costumes, couldn’t be too bad.
“I promised your missus I would anyway.” No one on the task force could tell you no, it was adorable.
“I’ll see you then, make sure the recruits stay out of trouble.” John nodded at him, heading down to the garage so he could get home to you.
The night air was cold, bike rumbling beneath him as he wound his way along the roads that lead to your shared home. He’d sent a quick text to you before he left, telling you to order dinner so the two of you could relax together. Good food, a glass of wine, and the most amazing wife that he could ever ask for sounded like a perfect night to him. Now if he could ignore the clawing thoughts that came with work that would be even better. Laswell knew better than to call him unless it was an absolute emergency that he needed to attend to.
The light was on outside as he pulled into the driveway, parking the bike and waiting until it was settled to step off. The sound of music echoed through the partially opened window, the sound of your voice following along with the lyrics. John snickered to himself, it was definitely a song from your younger years, it was definitely a 90’s boyband. If you were letting loose, what would he walk into? Shaking off his shoulders he headed into the house, locking the door behind him before slipping off his boots.
“Baby!” You ran over, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
“Hello to you too, having a party without me?” John’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his body.
“Never, can’t have a party without the man of the hour.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, giggling as he tried to pull you back for more.
The two of you laughed happily, dancing together until the doorbell rang loudly, letting you know your dinner had arrived. You had mentioned a movie you’d wanted to see earlier that week, talking about how scary it was from your friends. John could handle some little movie no problem at all, everything about it was fake anyway.
“Alright, got our food, drinks, time to turn on the movie.” You wiggled into your seat, pressing play on the remote before digging in to your food.
The movie, for lack of a better word, was absolutely terrible. It was sort of a tradition in your home that during October you would watch corny horror movies whenever John was home. It was something you’d been adamant on, refusing to let the tradition die out. Of course you’d watch the classic horror movies to help break up the monotony of the bad ones. John had insisted you watch The Thing recently, until you remembered the kennel scene. Watching poor animals, even fake ones, get hurt always makes you upset.
“What do we watch next? We’ve got a few days before the party, and you don’t need to go back until after.” You popped a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth, chewing slowly so you didn’t get any kernels stuck between your teeth.
John pondered for a brief moment, he’d loved watching the classics, but maybe something new could be better? No, something from the 90’s maybe.
“What about Candyman?” It was one of your favorites, having grown up as a horror fan you clung onto the infamous movie.
“A man after my own heart.” You giggled and grabbed your remote to turn the movie on. 
The only light in your living room, besides the TV of course, were the string lights you’d hung up in the middle of September. You’d claimed it would help give ambience to the movie watching experience, and John definitely had to admit that it had. It gave off an eerie vibe that he couldn’t quite place, but given that it was Halloween he wasn’t going to complain.
You could practically recite the movie, the way Tony Todd portrayed the character of Candyman so well never ceased to amaze you. You’d wanted to have a career in film making, but given that the industry was one of the hardest to get into, your dreams were crushed. 
You wouldn’t have met John had you followed your dreams.
You hummed softly, it was true, had you followed your heart you would have never met your husband. Sure you probably would’ve met someone in Hollywood, but it wouldn’t have been the same.
“Wait, what are you wearing for Halloween?” You glanced over at your husband.
“I’ve got a pair of overalls I’m gonna grease up. Go dressed as a mechanic.” John was nothing short of efficient. He’d found them one day after going through his clothes and tossing out anything that was either too old, or had holes to be thrown away.
“Hmm, that works.” You turned and put your attention back onto the movie on your screen.
You and Johnny would be matching, while Simon and Kyle would technically be matching. It had started as a joke but after discussing it, you had all agreed and the plans were set in stone. The costumes arrived a few weeks after you’d ordered them, the boys all paying you back right away. John of course had no idea what you were wearing, and you weren’t going to tell him until the very night of. It was going to be quite the surprise, you couldn’t wait for him to see.
Halloween
You were pulling on your undergarments, not wanting to spoil any surprises your husband might find later before quickly pulling on your dress. You’d been tempted to order a wig to truly match but you didn’t want to risk it. Instead you fixed up your hair, placing the headband before pulling on a pair of pantyhose. After a quick glance in the mirror you were happy with your look, pulling on the shoes and heading down to the living room. The boys had all crammed into your home, each of them taking their respective costumes to go and change. John had run to the store to get one final bag of candy, promising he’d be back in time to head to the party.
Kyle walked out in his amazing glory, the fluffy coat showing off his amazing physique.
“I have to admit, you make an amazing Ken.” You snickered and twirled your finger, telling him to give you a full view.
The costume was perfect, down to the headband and sunglasses he’d managed to find last minute. It was the only thing missing out of his entire get up.
“What can I say? I was born to be a total stud.” He smirked before bursting into laughter, both of you righting yourselves as Johnny walked out.
“I forgot how much I hated wearing boots sometimes.” Johnny muttered to himself.
The two of you had dressed as Velma and Daphne, Johnny had offered to be Velma since he was already a natural brunette. You weren’t going to argue with the man, the dress gave your husband even easier access.
“If you can tuck the bottom of the sweater under itself, it’ll look better.” You walked over and helped him adjust the dark orange sweater, brushing down the fabric of his skirt.
“Bettah?” Johnny glanced at you, hoping you could head out soon.
“Much.” You smiled and stepped back from him.
Before any of you could say anything else Simon walked out of the guest bathroom, the hot pink outfit causing all of your jaws to drop open. How Kyle had convinced him to dress up as cowboy Barbie you weren’t entirely sure, but god did he look fantastic.
“I have to admit, you look fucking hot right now.” Your eyes were wide, hands reaching up to mess with the green scarf wrapped around your neck.
“Thanks, this is all Kyle’s idea.” Simon tossed his bag down beside the couch.
“I’m not complaining, those pants are doing so much for your ass right now.” Your cheeks heated up before you caught the way Johnny was also eyeing him. At least you weren’t alone.
The sound of the front door opening suddenly caught your attention, your husband made it home with a few minutes to spare. Such a procrastinator that one was, now you’d be rushing out the door to get to the party.
“Sorry! Nearly got into a fight with someone who almost hit me on the way home. I just need to get dressed.” John dropped the candy into the large bowl, turning to face the rest of you.
His eyes landed on Simon first, a slight brow raised before he saw Kyle, followed by Johnny, and then lastly you. 
“Don’t tell me. Kyle and Simon are Barbie and Ken, and you two are Daphne and Velma?” John snickered as he slipped off his shoes quickly.
“Good job, now go get dressed so we can leave!” You all but pushed your husband towards your bedroom.
You could discuss the costumes later when you were actually where you needed to be for the night, right now was not the time. The plus side is that you were within walking distance of the party, the downside was that you were definitely going to be late. 
“Jeez, your arms look even bigger.” Kyle blurted out as Simon flexed his arms. Johnny was practically drooling at the sight.
“Alright, you guys head outside and I’ll see what’s taking John so long.” You waited until they’d all left, mainly to make sure poor Johnny didn’t pass out.
Shaking your head you made your way down to your bedroom, pushing the door open slowly so you didn’t startle him.
“Hey hun, are you…” You trailed off as you saw your husband, the white tank top he’d dirtied and greased up showed off the sleeves of tattoos as well as his back piece beautifully.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, let’s go hun.” John spritzed a couple sprays of cologne before heading over to you.
You watched the way his muscles ripped beneath the fabric, eyes glancing down to his legs beneath the coveralls. The arms over his coveralls were wrapped around his waist, giving him the look of being an actual mechanic. Jesus you weren’t going to be able to keep your hands off of him at this rate.
“I’ll have to remember to have someone take a photo of us when we get there.” You grabbed your wristlet and headed out of the house with John.
The other three, that were locked in a heated discussion, all fell silent as they saw their captain in a tank top. 
“Holy shit, you’re covered in tattoos?!” Kyle was floored, he’d recently found out his captain rode motorcycles, but seeing this? This was all new.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve had these for years.” John merely shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist as you all made the short walk to Kate’s house.
The music was loud enough that you could hear it outside, but it was clear that everyone was still able to have conversations. Kyle, Simon, and Johnny all took off the moment you got inside with John, causing you to roll your eyes. You just wanted one photo to at least remember the night, the costumes looked so good too!
“I’ll make sure they take a photo before we head home tonight, promise.” John pressed a kiss to your hair, leading you further into the party.
“Thank you.” You smiled as you leaned against him, avoiding any of the grease that could ruin your dress.
The party was lively, everyone complimenting your costume as well as John’s even asking a few questions about his tattoos. John was proud of the work he’d had done, especially the back piece he’d sat through over five sessions for. You loved when John got the recognition he deserved. The man was downright gorgeous, and you were reveling in the fact that he’d chosen you out of everyone.
The hours flew by, the drinks flowing through your system before John cut you off. He wasn’t going to risk getting you drunk like last time. You’d taken photos with all of your friends, giggling at the couples costume that Farah and Alex had done. He’d dressed up as a dinosaur while she was dressed like a handler. Everyone took photos with John, claiming they wanted to show off the tattoos he had and see if they could get something half as good. You knew better, it was only because of how gorgeous your husband was. You weren’t blind, even in regular clothes John was the most attractive man you’d ever met.
“Hey, why don’t I take you home? It’s getting late anyway.” John could see the way your eyes were drooping closed, exhaustion seeping into your bones.
“We gotta round up the boys too.” You’d offered up the spare bedrooms so they didn’t have to worry about driving home so late at night.
“Already did, sweetheart, so let’s go.” John scooped you up into his arms, saying goodbyes to everyone before making your way out of the house.
Your eyes slowly slipped closed as you rested against his chest, your feet sore from standing in the kitten heels for the last five hours. John didn’t so much as complain as he carried you to your shared home, opening the door to let everyone inside. Johnny didn’t hesitate to rip off his boots, tossing them aside before ripping off the sweater. John raised a brow at the younger man, watching as he hurriedly picked up his discarded items.
“Sorry, sir.” Johnny wasn’t going to let them lie around, would never do so in someone else’s home, but getting to strip down was his only thought.
“Just clean up, that's all I ask.” John turned and headed up to your bedroom, laying you on the plush mattress before turning to change into his own pajamas.
Your soft snores filled the air, chest rising and falling slowly as you slept peacefully on your bed. John chuckled and finished getting changed, turning to help you out of your own clothes. His eyes widened as he realized you had gotten new lingerie, jaw dropping open. He’d talk to you about it tomorrow, right now you were exhausted and needed some sleep.
After grabbing one of his more oversized shirts he helped ease you into the fabric, pulling off your headband and setting everything onto the dresser. You hadn’t so much as flinched the entire time, assuring John that you were completely asleep. He headed down to the living room, making sure the other three were settled before turning off the lights. It was fun getting to see everyone dressed up, simply enjoying themselves with good company.
“Thank you, for being the best thing I could ever ask for.” John crawled into bed beside you, pulling you flush to his chest.
You murmured softly in your sleep, wrapping your arms around his waist. There were definitely some things that the two of you needed to talk about. 
Those could wait, for now he would simply hold you and enjoy himself.
tagging: @gaylemonshark @thesinsoflust @dante-mightdie @mh073099
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banditthewriter · 7 months
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Run, Run, Run - Billy Russo
Here we have 2023's Halloween fic! I haven't written much fic this year and I can't promise that I'll write much/any next year, but I wanted to make sure I got this done. It's not edited or proof read beyond brief skims so sorry about that. It's also 17.2k so.
Warnings: Murder. Blood. Depiction of serial killer attacks. Discussion of scars and grief and fear.
Summary: The reader survives an attack by a known serial killer when they are in high school. Only the attacks start up again when they are older and in another state. Is it related to the first attacks? Is it a copy cat? And more importantly...is it someone the reader knows?
As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!
[gif is mine]
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You hadn’t been to many parties since you started high school, but the ones you had gone to had always gotten rowdy. Spilled out all over a house except for any rooms marked Occupied or Out of Bounds. The front and back yards would be covered in cans and bottles and cups. And quite a few people passed out.
This party might be in full swing, but it was nothing like the last parties you’d gone to. There were a lot of people, but everyone was squished into the basement den. A few went up into the kitchen in sets of two or three or more, but they all came right back after they got a refill or more snacks.
As it was, there were only about twenty people at this party. Once upon a time that’d be laughed at, considered a failure of a party, but this time? You were honestly surprised to see this many people at the graduation party most people had been looking forward to.
Why were things different this time? Simple. 
Over the last three weeks, seven people had been brutally murdered in your small, sleepy coastal town. Four teenagers, one parent, one police officer, and one unlucky Good Samaritan. Everyone said that nothing like this had ever happened here before and you believed it. It wasn’t a place where people left their doors unlocked, but murders? Multiple murders in just a few weeks? It was unheard of.
The media named the murderer the Seaside Slasher, but tonight everyone had his real name. He had been caught when he fled the scene of his last murder. No one recognized the name as being a local. As terrifying as it was that a random man had come to your town to brutally murder complete strangers, it didn’t matter. It was over. He was in jail.
Parents had reluctantly granted permission for the seniors to go to parties as a way to celebrate the upcoming graduation and a way to mourn the loss of their classmates. Your parents had been very hesitant to grant permission, but your older brother who had come to town made them agree that you deserved to let loose.
Not that this party was much of a way to do that. Music played so softly that you could barely hear it, teenagers sat around and talked quietly. You hadn’t expected a blowout or anything, but this felt more like study hall. 
You could either stay here and be reminded of the horrors of the last few weeks or you could go home and actually relax. It wasn’t a hard decision.
A quiet goodbye to your group of friends later, you went up the stairs and slipped your shoes on. You checked your purse for your things and then headed to the front door.
“Where you headed sweetie?”
You turned around and saw the mom of the student whose house you were in. You smiled as you hoisted your purse over your shoulder.
“I’m going to head home. My parents didn’t want me out for long with everything.”
The mom smiled, but you could tell it was with a heavy heart. She looked out the glass of the front door and frowned a bit.
“It’s late. Do you want me or my husband to drive you?”
That wasn’t a rare occurrence even without the murders still hanging over the heads of everyone, but you still shook your head.
“No, I live one street over, on Granite Avenue. It won’t take long.”
She laughed a bit as she reached out and touched my shoulder.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be so cautious. He was caught, wasn’t he? We’re safe now.”
“But it’s hard to switch gears that fast,” you added, since that’s exactly how your parents had worded it. She laughed as if you had read her mind, but you could see she was still a bit hesitant to let you walk. “I’ll call once I’m home. How’s that?”
With your friend’s mom placated, you headed out into the night air. It wasn’t overbearingly hot, even though summer was right at the cusp. Living this close to the coast meant there was also a little bit of a breeze though.
You walked down the street a few blocks before you cut across to your own street. There weren’t many sounds in the distance, just the sound of your feet on the asphalt, but you still felt the hair rise on the back of your neck the longer you were out. You sped up your pace until you could see your house clearly, the front porch light on to welcome you home.
Maybe your parents had the right idea to not want you to go out. It didn’t matter that you were safe, right then you felt like you were being hunted.
On the front porch you pulled out your key and let yourself in. There were no lights on upstairs or in the living room as you put your purse down and tugged off your shoes. You bypassed the stairs and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. With it in your hand, you took a few sips before you headed to the stairs that led down to the den where your brother was staying. There wasn’t an overhead light on but flickers from the television. He was probably awake though and you wanted to let someone know that you were home.
Down the stairs, you looked over to the couch and saw the back of your brother’s head as he was facing the television which was on the local news on mute. Right as you opened your mouth to say something to alert him to your presence, you saw what was on the television screen.
Captions ran across the bottom of the screen in a delay to the way the anchor’s mouth was moving, but you saw the picture in the corner of the screen and the tag under it.
SEASIDE SLASHER ESCAPED POLICE CUSTODY
“Oh god,” you whispered as you stared at the news footage. Somehow the murderer had gotten free and whereabouts were unknown. 
You needed to call your friend and let them know that you were home and also what had happened, in case they didn’t already know. You needed to wake your parents. You needed to…
“Jere?”
You whispered your brother’s name, not wanting to scare him, but he didn’t budge from watching the news. You flicked the light on which would have ordinarily caused him to at least jerk but he didn’t move still.
Unease filled you as you tiptoed across the carpet to the edge of the couch. As you peered around, multiple things happened at once.
The first was that you saw your brother, his eyes dull and face slack as blood oozed from his neck. He was propped up on the couch to look like he was still alive, but he very much wasn’t. 
The second was that crumpled on the floor in front of the couch, hidden from view at first, was your mom. Her face was upturned a bit, but had the same dull eyed look as your brother as she laid in a pool of blood that soaked into the thick carpet underfoot.
The third was that, from the corner of your eye, you saw something move in the reflection of the framed picture of your family that hung over the television. That split second heads up is what made you spin around only to be face to face with a masked murderer who held a bloodied knife in his hand.
The scream came out of you all at once, from the horror of seeing your murdered brother and sister to the terror of being face to face with their murderer. It all happened so quickly that you just screamed for it all as you immediately started to run. You tossed the glass of water you held at his face as you took off across the room.
It meant you had to run through the pool of blood and you felt your socks soak in some of it as you did, but you couldn’t focus on that. You couldn’t focus on the fact that you’d just run past the dead bodies of your loved ones. You could only focus on survival.
Another scream came out of your throat and you felt something slash against your shoulder. He had caught up to you. You bounced off the wall and then darted behind the couch, desperate to get to the stairs, but he was right on you. Your hand grasped a picture frame from the shelf nearest you and you spun around to slam it against his face as you scrambled, screaming as his knife cut into your stomach. You needed to put distance between you and him, needed to get up the stairs. Needed to…
Was your dad even alive? Maybe he had been killed too. Maybe there was no one in the house to hear you scream.
Your face was slammed against the corner of the wall near the stairs, another slash of the knife as it went across your shoulder blades. The den wasn’t large enough to run from him, nowhere to hide. You were going to be killed, you were going to be—
A thunderous noise came to your attention right before someone came down the stairs and barreled into the body that was holding you against the wall, the knife carving against your back and the back of your arm as he was ripped away. You screamed as you spun around, but you watched as your dad wrestled the masked man to the floor and ripped the knife from his hands. Even though the other man fought back, your dad had something to help him.
Cuffs. He was in his police uniform so he must have just gotten home and heard your screams. 
As your heart stopped pounding in your ears you heard your dad’s voice break through the fog.
“–911, okay? You need to call 911!” 
You stumbled over to the landline that was kept in the den, your feet screaming as you did, but you didn’t focus on that. Just on getting to the phone. Hitting the 9 then the 1 then the 1 again. Then you slumped against the ground as a voice came across to ask what was your emergency.
“Please,” you begged softly as your eyes went to the dead bodies that you could clearly see, your eyes welling up with tears as you felt nausea roll through you. “Oh god, please just…please.”
A bloodied hand entered your vision and you screamed, but your dad bent down so that you could see his face.
“Give me the phone sweetheart, let me,” he said, tears in his eyes. 
You must have given it to him. Or maybe he just took it from you. Either way, you watched as he walked back to where he had tackled the masked man as he spoke quickly into the phone. He stumbled over to the body of your mom and knelt down, those tears now pouring over his cheeks. You couldn’t hear his words, but you closed your eyes so you couldn’t see it anymore. 
Everything hurt. Your feet from walking through broken glass, either from your water that you’d thrown or the picture you’d smashed against his face. Your back from the multiple knife slashes. Your stomach from the knife. Both of your arms from the knife. Your head from being bashed into the wall.
Your heart. That’s what hurt worse. 
“You sure this is what you want?”
You looked over at your dad and then back down to the papers in your hands. It listed the information about your dorm room assignment and orientation. You were about 30 miles away from the city but your dad was finally asking the question you knew had been on the tip of his tongue since you had told him that you had gotten into NYU.
“Little late to change my mind, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. I’ll turn this car around right now if you ask me to.”
You knew he would, but you didn’t want him to.
At one point you had contemplated going to a college closer to home, maybe driving in to see your parents every now and then. Maybe you’d go to your brother’s college. Then…
“This is what I want,” you said softly as you looked out of the window to the cars that were all heading the same direction.
“Okay sweetheart,” your dad replied equally softly. “You know I’ll worry about you in a city like New York, but I can’t fault you for wanting to get as far away as you can.”
Your arms subconsciously came around your stomach, fingers searching out the rigid raised scar that stretched beside your naval almost to your side.
“Bad things happen in the city, but bad things happen in small towns too,” you reminded your dad, as if he ever needed a reminder. 
As if he hadn’t nailed the door to the den shut the day of the funeral.
“Maybe I’ll move out this way too,” he said instead of addressing your comment. “Less travel so we can see each other.”
Normally the thought of a parent moving to be closer to where you were going to college would seem embarrassing or ridiculous. This time it sounded like a good idea.
“Maybe you should,” you replied as you looked over at your dad, the bags under his eyes and the gray that seemed to sprout up in the last six months. “I think that would be a good idea.”
Your roommate was out at another party, but you didn’t mind. You’d gotten used to the solitude, even surrounded by people as you were in New York.
Instead you stared at the computer screen where you had been doing homework. An email had come into your personal box and desperate for a change in pace, you’d opened it. Now you were unable to look away.
A news alert. You’d set it up before you left for college, although this was the first alert you’d gotten. The article was short and to the point, but you kept staring at the headline.
SEASIDE SLASHER SENTENCED TO DEATH
Your phone rang as you read the words again and you answered without looking at the caller ID. You already knew who it was.
“Did you see–”
“Yes,” you said quickly, cutting your dad off. “Yeah, I’m looking at it now.”
Both of you sat in silence on the phone for a few more minutes, neither of you sure what to say at first.
“It’ll be years before it’s actually carried out,” your dad said finally. “These things go through certain stages and he can appeal but, it’s not like there’s much chance of him winning. Justice will be served.”
You closed your eyes and flipped through memories of that night like a flipbook. You felt the horror and terror and pain flow through you all over again.
“Good.”
“You’ll never guess who I saw earlier,” your friend Karen said as she flopped down onto your couch. “Never in a million years guess.”
“Frank Castle,” you teased back, not needing to guess. 
Her laughter was a good enough answer to tell you that you were right. You laughed as you spun around in your desk chair to look at her.
“And? Did he ask you out or are you continuing to pretend not to like him?”
This was a pretty common sight in your tiny little apartment. You and Karen had met in college and stayed friends even with both of you having hectic lives. Now, out in the real world as it was, you two still hung out a few times a week. To the point where you each had keys to the other’s places.
“He asked me out.”
You let out a whoop and pumped your fist in the air. 
“Knew he had it in him!”
“Oh shut up,” she laughed even as she got a starry look in her eyes. “I think I’ve led him on quite a chase already.”
Those two had circled each other for a while, neither one relenting at first even though it was obvious they both liked each other. You were almost annoyed at how perfect they were for each other.
“He said he has this friend named Kevin. He wanted to know if…”
You weren’t sure why Karen had trailed off until you realized you were frowning. 
“No blind dates,” you said as you spun back around to your computer. “I appreciate it and all, but I’m fine.”
Your hand went down to your stomach and traced the ridge of the scar in a familiar fashion. You knew without looking that Karen had caught the gesture.
“I know that your first time ended badly, but not every guy is going to…”
She trailed off but you turned to look at her.
“To what, freak out when he sees me naked because I look like someone tried to unsuccessfully gut me like a fish?”
Your college boyfriend had been surprised when he’d seen you without a shirt on, but that wasn’t what had ruined the mood. Even when he’d seen the scars on your back or your arms, he would still have been willing to go further, but it was you that stopped it.
Simply because he had asked “what happened?” As if that wasn’t a reasonable question at that moment.
“I know that you don’t like talking about what happened,” Karen started softly, and then a little more forceful when you scoffed, “but you can’t keep going like this. You rarely leave your apartment unless it’s to come to mine, you never date because you don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, you only ever talk to me or your dad. It’s not healthy.”
The hand that had pressed against the scar reached up to work the mouse on your computer, although your eyes were unfocused as your mind replayed Karen’s words over and over again.
“Have you thought about going back to a counselor?”
You shook the mouse to make the screensaver go away.
“The last one looked freaked out when I tried to explain what happened. Hard to go back to one after that.”
Karen was one of the only people in the city that knew what had happened to you. It had happened one night about two years into being friends when the two of you had gone out drinking. You’d gotten spooked by someone wearing a ski mask, even though it was winter and obviously cold outside. Karen had found you having a panic attack in the bathroom and everything had just flowed out of you.
She was a great friend, your best friend. That was the only reason you didn’t kick her out of your apartment as she pushed for you to better yourself.
Except you didn’t want to keep having this conversation, so you opened your mouth to change topic but your cell ringing stopped you. Your dad’s picture showed up so you answered it with a smile.
“Hey dad.”
“Hey sweetheart,” he started, his voice slow and careful. “What are you up to?”
“Just sitting at my apartment with Karen,” you said as you turned back to Karen who called out a hello to your dad as she picked up a magazine off your coffee table. “What’s up?”
It took a moment before he answered.
“Have you been watching the news?”
Both you and your dad lived in New York, although he was a ways away from the city, but you knew he didn’t mean the local news. Not even state news. There was something in his voice that told you he meant the news back home.
“No,” you said as you turned to your computer and typed in a search. “I turned off my alerts a while back. Why, what…oh.”
The headline was the first one that popped up, sixteen hours old.
SEASIDE SLASHER EXECUTED
The article wasn’t very long, but you read through it twice just in case. Pretty to the point. No stay of execution was ordered, so the execution had been scheduled. Some of the family members of the victims were present, noticeably absent was the family of the last victims but you and your dad’s names weren’t listed at least. His last words were quoted near the bottom of the article.
“You have no idea. I’ll be back.”
You closed your eyes and took a few breaths until you were regulated once more. When you opened your eyes, Karen was standing beside you and obviously reading the screen because her hand went to your shoulder to give you an encouraging squeeze.
“I guess it’s over,” you said as you covered her hand with yours.
“I guess so,” your dad said back.
For some reason, neither of you sounded convinced.
It had been Frank’s idea to leave the city for a few days. While his reasoning was different from yours, you had to admit that you weren’t against the idea. It was around Halloween and while that holiday had not always been an issue for you, sometime over the last few years you just started to react differently. 
Even though the man that had killed multiple people in your town, including your mom and brother, had been executed a few years ago, you still felt like you couldn’t fully breathe and be at ease. You didn’t know how to explain it, but that’s just how you felt. Halloween in the city meant seeing people dressed in costumes and a majority of that wasn’t a problem. It just put you more on edge.
Not that your apartment ever got trick or treaters.Still.
“My friend is gonna come out to join us,” Frank said as he carried your bags into the little cabin. “Before you say anything, it’s not a setup kind of thing. Billy is just like a brother to me, I want him to meet the girl that’s like a sister to Karen.”
“Karen already told me. Plus I’ve heard a lot about this Billy guy over the years, it’d be nice to actually meet him.”
Frank was a great guy and had been great to Karen since the two of them had gotten their shit together to start dating. You hadn’t known that Frank was military when the two of them first met, but they made it work. In fact you couldn’t think of any couple that was as in love as the two of them.
So no, you knew that Frank wasn’t the type to try to push a blind date on you. You’d heard a hundred stories about Billy Russo but whenever they were back in the city, you weren’t able to meet up. Sometimes it was for legitimate reasons, deadlines for work or that one memorable Thanksgiving you had the stomach flu. Sometimes it was just because your anxiety and fear had gotten triggered by other situations and you couldn’t leave your house.
This was good though. You were out in the world which always made Karen happy, you were going to meet Frank’s best friend which would make him happy, and you were secluded from any potential jumpscares that Halloween might provide which made you happy. It was a win-win-win. 
Two frozen pizzas were popped into the oven and the three of you settled into the living room to watch a movie. Frank got updates from Billy on his own travel out from the city to a remote cabin that you all had rented for the long weekend. When you’d asked why he hadn’t met up with you all to head out together, Frank revealed that Billy liked to do things on his own.
You understood that. 
The movie was some actiony Blockbuster that you only vaguely recognized the name of, but it wasn’t really meant to keep everyone’s attention. It was more background noise while the three of you talked. Karen was in the middle of a story from her work at the law office when what sounded like a car pulling up had all of you looking over to the door.
“Bill said he still had an hour left,” Frank said as he checked his phone again. Then he stood up and approached the door and looked through the glass. “Huh. I don’t see a car besides ours.”
Karen frowned and got up to move over to the large glass windows that you had pulled the curtains closed on. She opened them just a bit and looked around.
“Think they drove around to the back? The driveway wraps around the house.”
Frank walked out of the living room and into the kitchen to check back there, but called that there wasn’t a car there either. 
“Maybe someone just turned around in the driveway and was gone before you got up?” you offered as you tried not to let yourself get swept away in worry and fear.
“That…is a good possibility,” Karen agreed as she let go of the curtains and moved to sit next to you once more. “Out here away from the city you can hear everything like that. It didn’t sound too close, now that I’m thinking about it.”
Frank came back into the living room with another piece of pizza halfway eaten already as he nodded in agreement. He sat down on the chair closest to the television and put his feet back up on the coffee table.
“I always forget you both are from small towns,” he said as he wiped his hands on a napkin before he crumpled it and tossed it with the rest of the dinner’s debris on the coffee table. “I’m used to cities.”
You stretched your legs out and then moved so that you were sitting criss cross on the couch cushion.
“My town was tiny. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, secrets were nearly impossible to have, people felt comfortable going to anyone’s house and asking for something if they needed it. It was…it was a great place to grow up.”
You waved off Frank’s look of concern with a small laugh.
“It’s okay, I’m okay. The last therapist said that I needed to get better about talking about the good things from my past. It wasn’t all…bad.”
Karen reached over and squeezed your hand in support which just made your chest swell with a bitter happiness. How bad off were you that you could be praised for doing something as simple as talking about the good days of your past?
Knock knock.
All three of you looked over at the door. Frank glanced over at his phone once more and then stood up. He went to the door and looked out of the small window, but didn’t seem to see anyone. When his hand went to the bolt, you opened your mouth but immediately closed it.
This was just a normal situation. It wasn’t anything to get worked up about. If you gave into your fear every time something happened that was out of your hands, you’d never get to have a normal life.
He opened the door just a few inches and looked out, the light from the house flooding out onto the porch. He flicked on the overhead light but didn’t open the glass door to step out and check.
Tap tap tap.
All of you looked over to the window that was in front of you, angled so that someone standing in front of it wouldn’t be visible from the front door. You opened your mouth and looked over at Karen who was frowning. Frank held a hand out, but Karen stood up and marched over to the window. She didn’t pull the curtains wide, but she didn’t have to. The moment she pulled them even partially open, the sight made her scream and jump backwards.
There was someone just outside of the window dressed in a black hoodie with a Halloween mask on their face. You recognized the mask from some horror film or other that had come out years and years ago, but that didn’t really click. Instead you found yourself staring at the mask, mouth open as if to scream, but nothing coming out.
Things happened very quickly after that. Karen had turned to Frank who was already out of the house in the blink of an eye. You were up and launching yourself to the kitchen, hands fumbling as you pulled open drawer after drawer before you found the knives. You grabbed the largest one and swung around, but then you jumped back as you saw the person with the mask was in the living room.
Except the mask was in his hand and you recognized him. It was Frank’s friend Billy. Frank’s friend Billy who was being yelled at by Karen as she yanked the mask out of his hand.
Your body was still in fight or flight, the knife held aloft as if to ward off anyone from coming closer. When someone did move closer to you, you recognized that it was Frank but still couldn’t lower your arm. You heard your name being called, heard Karen say your name as well, but you still couldn’t move. 
You were safe as long as you stayed right where you were. Your back was to a solid wall, the knife was in front of you. You would be safe, you would be…
“It’s alright, you’re alright,” a voice softly called to you from your left. You turned your head and saw Karen, a few feet away with her hands up, her face paler than you’d ever seen it. “It was just a mistake, a stupid prank. Everything is okay.”
Your eyes looked past Karen and Frank to where Billy stood, his eyes wide as he stared back at you. He raised his hands slowly and showed his palms. Then he spoke, or maybe just mouthed the words.
You are safe.
Safe. You shut your eyes for a moment and then when you opened them back up, the haze you had gone under when everything had happened was lifted. You dropped the knife and shrank back into the wall so that you wouldn’t crumple. 
“Oh god,” you whimpered as you looked over at Karen, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”
“No, of course not,” Frank answered as he grabbed the knife and put it on the counter. 
Karen swooshed in and wrapped you in a hug. You held on as tight as you could and buried your face in her shoulder. You weren’t crying, no tears and no body wracking sobs. Just shook as adrenaline fled your body.
“I am so sorry,” a new voice said a few feet away. When you glanced up, you met Billy’s dark eyes as he stared at you and Karen. “I didn’t…I didn’t know. I thought it would be a funny prank, I didn’t know.”
Didn’t know what? You remembered seeing Karen yell at him as she pulled the mask from his hand and you assumed that maybe she had said something. Something to let him know that he just traumatized you a bit.
You sniffled and pulled away from Karen. Then you stepped a little closer to Billy.
“We haven’t been formally introduced. Hi, I’m…a survivor of a masked serial killer.”
Billy let out a shocked laugh and held his hand out to you.
“Nice to meet you.”
Karen and Frank had gone to bed around midnight and although you should have done the same, you found yourself still sitting in the living room with Billy at almost two in the morning. Once everything had settled down and Billy had apologized again for scaring you, you all had gone into the living room to talk and try to recoup from the events that had happened. 
Once the couple had gone to bed, the comfortable silence had made you say something you hadn’t expected.
“It was my senior year. In total, nine people were killed. Including my mom and my brother. I think I was going to be number ten if my dad hadn’t arrived.”
With that, you spilled the whole story in a way you’d only done with Karen and with a few therapists. You told Billy everything that had happened and how it made you feel. 
“I don’t leave my apartment much,” you admitted as you stared down at where your fingers were picking at the thread on the blanket over your lap. “Karen has helped a lot with that, and Frank too now. They help me get out and feel…safe. Halloween is a hard time because of the masks. It’s like I go right back to the den that night, feel like I’m going to die.”
“I’m really sorry about everything. I had no idea.”
“I know,” you whispered softly as you looked over to where Billy was watching you. “To be honest, that’s the scariest thing that’s happened to me since…since the attack. As messed up as it is, I think…I think it helped me.”
Billy tilted his head to show that he was listening, but he didn’t say anything. As if he knew him speaking would make you not say what was on your mind.
“I’ve been in a holding pattern since it all happened. I moved to the city for college and then I got an apartment and a job and somewhat of a life, but there’s a part of me that never left my hometown. A part of me that is still running around that room, thinking I was going to die. Tonight, when I was scared for my life again, I didn’t run. Or well, I did, but I was going to fight. I was going to…I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared again. I was going to fight.”
You bit your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands. Then slowly you grabbed your shirt and pulled up the hem to show your scar. It was the first time you’d voluntarily shown anyone besides doctors or Karen.
“This is just one of them, but...I was always ashamed. That I came out of that terrible night with just some scars. It never felt right that I was alive with just scars, when everyone else was gone.”
Billy’s eyes had moved down to the scar along your stomach, but the way they lingered didn’t make you feel hideous or like he thought you were a freak. In fact, the way his eyes moved along the skin made butterflies appear in your stomach.
“Survivor’s guilt is a difficult thing,” he said as he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “You have that fear, but you also feel guilty. Like you shouldn’t get to be carefree because you don’t think you should have survived.”
You lowered your shirt and thought about that, let it sit for a while. Then you closed your eyes and laughed.
“Six therapists. I’ve seen six therapists and no one has put it so perfectly.”
Billy leaned his head back against the couch for a moment and then looked over at you.
“Every tour that Frankie and I do, I always tell myself that I probably won’t make it back. I make smart decisions and I do what I can to survive, but I accepted a long time ago that no one would notice if I was gone.”
“Frank would,” you said softly, your eyes darting over to the hallway where Karen and Frank’s room was. “He said that you’re like a brother to him.”
When you looked back at Billy, he was staring at you with an emotion you couldn’t name.
“The guy. What happened to him?”
The jump from topics made you confused for a moment before you shook your head to clear it a bit.
“He was sentenced to death and a few years ago, he was executed.”
Billy nodded as he stood up, stretching a bit until his back popped.
“Good. That’s…good.”
He moved into the kitchen and you didn’t follow or try to speak to him while he was in there. You had a feeling that Billy was going through his own journey with the things that weighed on him, but you weren’t going to push.
When he came back into the living room, he gestured to the hall.
“Should probably head to bed. It’s late.”
You nodded and stood up. To extend the time with Billy, you grabbed the trash from the coffee table and moved into the kitchen to throw it away. When you opened the trash can, you stared down at the mask that had started it all.
“Here,” Billy said as he took the trash from you and pushed it into the can, burying the mask completely. “Like it never happened.”
You glanced up at Billy’s face and then nodded, even though you knew that wasn’t what you felt like at all. Just like you had said to Billy, you felt like the whole ordeal pushed you into the healing part of your journey. Now you honestly felt like you could breathe again.
It had been a long time coming, but you were starting to feel whole once more.
“I have a box of picture frames. Where do you want it?”
Karen looked over at you and then glanced at the messy living room. 
“Put them on the coffee table for now? Honestly I have no idea what I want to do with this place.”
You laughed when you placed the heavy box on the coffee table. Honestly you didn’t blame Karen for being a bit overwhelmed. Frank and Billy and Curtis had moved the furniture into the house over the weekend so you and Karen took it on yourself to unpack as much as you could.
Karen and Frank’s new house was very nice and as everything was unloaded, it slowly became more and more like a home. You were happy for the two of them, even if you were a little envious.
Since that Halloween cabin trip, you had made a lot of strides with getting over your past. Even so, you were just starting to get your life back together.
Including going on a few dates over the last few weeks. Still nothing serious, but casual dating isn’t bad every now and then. 
As you unpacked books for the bookshelf, you let your mind wander to Billy. Since that trip, all of you had gotten together a few times for other trips or just for a meal and a laugh. When Frank and Billy were deployed again, you and Karen sent care packages and kept in touch with them. It felt natural. 
Karen got your attention as she came through with a box.
“I’m taking these clothes upstairs. Wanna stop for lunch soon?”
You agreed as you broke down the box you had been pulling stuff out of for the bookshelf. As you opened the next box, your phone started to ring in your pocket. When you looked at the screen, you saw Billy’s contact on there and answered immediately.
“Hey Billy,” you greeted as you started to pull the books out for the bookshelf.
When his voice came through, it was obvious he was calling from his car.
“Hey, uh, you and Karen unpacking?”
“Yeah, about to stop for lunch though. What’s up?”
He didn’t say anything at first which made you stop unloading the box. You stood up and turned as if you expected to see him behind you, even though you could still hear the car in the background.
“Have you seen the news? From your old town.”
Your chest felt like it became a bit too tight at those words. The last time you’d heard a version of that, it was your dad calling to tell you about the execution.
“No.”
He sighed a bit which made you tense to the point where you had to turn to sit down on the chair nearest you.
“There was an attack in your town two nights ago. From what I know, it was…your childhood home.”
There was a moment where you were really glad you sat down because otherwise you think your legs would have given out. As your mind swirled, you tried to think of what to ask first.
You knew that Billy had looked into your story after you told him about it. Hearing your version of events made him want to see it from start to finish so he’d looked it up. There was still a lot of information on it, including the lack of any real motive.
“An attack?”
“The police were called to the house when they heard screams. The mom and a son were on an overnight field trip so it was just the dad and daughter in the house. By the time they got there, the dad and daughter had both been brutally murdered.”
You closed your eyes and remembered what it felt like to have someone break into your house with the intention of killing you.
“They were found in the finished basement on the floor.”
Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Your mouth went dry as you thought about stepping into the basement den and finding your mom and brother. The healed scars felt like they were bleeding and even though it was impossible, you still reached into your shirt to see if there was any blood from the scar.
Nothing.
“Did they find who did it?”
“They were gone, but there was a note stabbed to the door. It just had a date on it.”
“What date?”
When Billy said the date that was on the note, you half expected it to be the date you had been attacked, but it wasn’t. It was only from a few years ago, so you didn’t think it had anything to do with what had happened, just a coincidence.
Until…
“Wasn’t that the date he was executed?”
You closed your eyes as you realized that Billy was right. It had been a while since you’d thought about the date, but thinking about it you were pretty sure that Billy was right.
“His uh, his last words were that he’d be back.”
“That’s impossible. He’s dead, there’s no way he can be back.”
You almost laughed because yes, you knew that. You knew that it was impossible, but that’s what he said either way. Instead you felt tears start to gather in your eyes as you settled more into the chair.
“I’d come by but I’m out of town. Maybe stay with Karen and Frankie tonight, okay? Just…I don’t think you’re in danger, but I still don’t think you should be alone.”
You nodded and wiped at your eyes.
“Thanks Billy. I’ll talk to Karen when she comes downstairs. I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later? Drive safely.”
“It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”
You hoped he was right but you didn’t know. Nothing felt right at the moment.
All you knew was as the call with Billy ended, you needed to call your dad to let him know about it. Once upon a time you thought that things were over, but not anymore. Now you were thinking things were just about to begin.
It was dark out as you made your way through the parking lot to where your car was parked. In the background you could hear your coworkers laughing as they headed to their own cars. A shouted invitation to join them at the bar came over, but you waved them off and promised next time.
Which you’d actually follow through with. It wasn’t like it had been before, where you kept to yourself at all times. You’d branched out, made friends, started working from the office just as much as you worked from home. You still kept certain things to yourself of course, a habit you were unable to break anytime soon, but you opened yourself up to people.
The car chirped as you unlocked it and slid into the front seat, immediately locking the doors again. As you started the car, you noticed something on your windshield. A folded piece of paper tucked under your windshield wiper. 
Carefully you leaned forward and leaned out of the window to pull the paper out of the wiper. It came free after a tug. Once settled back in the seat, you rolled the window back up and looked at the paper. You unfolded it and stared at it.
Did you miss me?
Your hands shook as you dropped the paper into your passenger seat. Then, without hesitation, you started towards the entrance to the parking lot. Your headlights went across someone in the distance but you didn’t even focus on them, just stepped on the gas to get out of the parking lot.
The person didn’t move at least, seen from the corner of your eye as you sped out. It was possible it wasn’t anyone to worry about, someone from the office or just someone passing by. 
As you headed to the freeway, you connected your bluetooth and dialed Karen’s number. It went to voicemail and you swore as you hung up. You were about to call her again when you hesitated. 
For some reason, you wanted to call Billy. So that’s what you did.
He answered after a few rings.
“Hey, what’s up? Leaving work?”
Your hands shook a bit as you navigated through the traffic on the street.
“I came out of work and there was a note on my windshield.”
“Okay. Did you…”
“I grabbed it,” you admitted as you drove around a slow driver in the fast lane. “I realize now that I shouldn’t have, that it could have been…but I grabbed it.”
“It sounds like you’re driving so at least nothing happened. What did it say?”
You glanced down at the paper in your passenger seat and then immediately back up to the road. 
“Did you miss me?”
“Fuck,” Billy breathed out, the connection distorting a bit from the force. “This isn’t good. I thought that whoever it was wouldn’t come all this way, but it sounds like maybe he did. Maybe you’re a target.”
Your chest felt tight as you pulled onto the street where you lived.
“I need to call to check on my dad. I’m almost home so I’ll call him when I get inside.”
“You don’t need to go to your place, not alone. Do you think Karen is home yet?”
“I tried to call Karen first,” you said as you drove past your house, your eyes on your rearview mirror just to check. “She didn’t answer so I called you.”
“That’s okay, never hesitate to call me if you need me. But for now, come to Anvil. Frank is there, I’ll let him know what’s going on. We’re gonna make sure you’re never alone until this guy is caught, okay?”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. You knew the way to Anvil easily enough, but that didn’t stop your heart from thudding in your chest. Whether this guy was connected to the man who had done the original attacks or it was a copycat, it didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was that you could be in danger.
“I need to call my dad,” you said again.
“I know, but stay on the phone with me for right now, okay? I don’t want something to happen to you while you’re out.”
You wished that you could close your eyes or burrow into yourself, but you had to focus on the road. Instead you lowered your voice a bit.
“I’m scared Billy.”
His sigh came through the phone so clear that it felt like he was in the car with you.
“I know. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
He couldn’t promise that, not really, but you didn’t say that. Instead you simply listened to the ambient noise of the connection all the way to Anvil. 
Your dad’s cell phone rang to the voicemail twice, but you didn’t stop. As you clicked it again, you looked over to where Frank and Billy were talking. Billy had gotten to Anvil a little bit before you did and had filled Frank in by time you got there. The two of them were discussing a plan, although you weren’t sure what for just yet.
All you cared about was getting in touch with your dad. He didn’t normally miss a call, not like this.
On the third time you called, the line was finally answered but it wasn’t your dad’s voice that greeted you.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hello...you have my dad’s phone. Who is this?”
The men turned to you when they heard what you had asked, both with concern on their faces.
“Hello miss. My name is Dr Roberts. Your father was brought in earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident.”
As he explained what had happened, you felt yourself sway. If you hadn’t already been sitting, you would have fallen over. Instead, as you were obviously struggling to focus on the words the doctor was saying, Frank came over and took the phone from you. He didn’t go far as he spoke, asking the questions you should have been asking.
“Hey. I’m right here.”
You blinked a few times and looked over to where Billy had knelt down in front of you, his hand in yours. You didn’t even notice him coming to your side or touching you. With a shake of your head, you looked over to where Frank was giving you a comforting head nod as he asked about hospital security.
“Oh god,” you breathed as you finally let yourself shake a bit. “My dad, he was in a car accident.”
“I know, but he’s okay. He’s in recovery and he’s going to be okay.”
Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to remember what the doctor had said before Frank had taken over.
“Earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident earlier this evening.”
Billy stared up at you. Then, with a glance over to Frank, he moved to sit next to you on the couch.
“He lives about thirty minutes away, right? Be enough time for the copycat to leave the note on your car and then go after your dad.”
Your hand contracted around Billy’s as you looked at the note that was on the table where you’d left it.
“There was someone in the parking lot when I got in the car. I didn’t see them very well, too far away and too desperate to leave. What if that was him? It’s not like he can be in two places at once.”
Saying that made your heart stutter in your chest as you remembered something. Something from so long ago that it had been buried.
“What is it?”
You looked over at Billy and then back to the note.
“The murders. The original murders. The only other night where two people died on the same night besides…” You let your words trail off, unable to mention your mom and brother right then. “It was never investigated and as much as I can remember, it was never talked about in the trial, but there had been speculation back then. The first murder that night was on the mainland and the second murder was on a little island. The newspapers said it should have been impossible for one person to cross that distance on the ferry in the time between murders, so they were looking for a boat that might have been used. But what if there wasn’t a boat? What if there were two murderers this whole time?”
Billy looked at the note and then over to Frank who was nodding as if he had heard. You caught a quick snippet of him telling the doctor that one of Anvil’s men would be there as soon as possible to provide extra security.
“If there were two murderers back then, then it isn’t a copycat. It’s a continuation.”
Your hands went around your stomach as if to hold you together, fingers seeking out those rigid scars under your top.
“Why me? Why my family? We never did anything to anyone.”
“It can be a fixation of finishing what was started. It can be the chase because you got away. Revenge because you got his partner killed. There’s a lot of reasons someone might keep going after you.”
You wanted to laugh, but the logic was important. You needed the reality of this before you lost yourself.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered as you stared down at your hands with tears in your eyes. “I want to see my dad.”
“We’ll take you,” Frank said as he passed you the phone, the screen showing the call had ended. “I’m going to pick up Karen and tell her what’s going on. Then we’ll take you to your dad.”
“Maybe we should wait,” Billy said as he stood up to face Frank. “Get Karen, get someone from Anvil to sit on her dad, but if we drag her out of the city, we can’t be sure that he won’t follow us and more people will get hurt. Here, we’re on our turf.”
As the men discussed the pros and cons of both plans, you let your hand go back to the scar. The fear that had gone through you that night in the basement den of your childhood home had started to come back, but as it rose, so did something else. A strength you never knew you had.
The strength to survive.
“I’m staying,” you said finally, cutting off their conversation. “If he wants to finish what he started, he can start with me. I’m not running again.”
Both men looked at you and you saw the pride in their eyes. Frank pulled out his phone.
“I’m going to get Karen. We’ll stick together. You and Bill should stick together too. We’ll come up with a plan to draw him out and we’ll end this.”
Your eyes went to Billy’s and found those dark eyes were already on yours.
“I’ll take you to my place. We’ll be safe there.”
This was it. The final standoff.
For years you’d thought you were safe, that the danger had been left behind you. Now, whatever happened, you knew it would really be over.
“Here, this will be more comfortable,” Billy explained as he handed you some of his clothes.
You hadn’t gone back to your place, unwilling to take the chance. Instead Billy had brought you straight to his over the top apartment and told you to make yourself at home.
You went into the bathroom to change, placing your clothes on the side of the sink where you could change back into them in the morning. As you stared at yourself in the mirror in Billy’s clothes, you felt your throat catch a bit.
Inch by inch you raised the shirt and looked at the scar on your stomach. Then, even though you had just put the shirt on, you pulled it off and held it to your chest as you turned. With your back facing the mirror, you looked over your shoulder and looked at the scars there.
You had felt the knife tear through your skin. The stitches hadn’t been nearly enough to keep the scars from being ugly, but you didn’t care anymore. Once upon a time they made you ashamed, but why should they? They meant you were a survivor.
A survivor.
“Hey, are you…”
Billy had knocked on the door and it came open fully since you hadn’t shut it all the way in your daze. He looked at your back in the mirror for a long moment before he met your eyes.
“Are you hungry? I was going to make dinner.”
You swallowed thickly as you looked down from his gaze in the mirror to the scars.
“They don’t bother you.”
It wasn’t asked, it was stated. When his gaze flickered away from the mirror, you turned to face him in the doorway. His eyes went down the scars on your stomach. The ones you had showed him that first night in the cabin after he had scared you. He walked towards you and reached out, slowly as if to let you move away if you wanted to.
You didn’t want to.
When those fingers touched your scar, you shivered but didn’t pull away. His eyes moved from the scar and landed on your face.
“We all have scars,” he said softly as his eyes dropped to your mouth. “Shows that you’re a survivor.”
A survivor. He had echoed the words you had thought right before he’d walked in.
“Billy,” you began but he shook his head.
“Later,” he promised as he leaned in and captured your lips with his.
Since you were going to ask if you could kiss him, you found yourself happy with this change of pace. The shirt was dropped to the floor. Chest bared, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer. Even as his hand skimmed up your back and slowly touched the scars there, you didn’t pull away.
You were done pulling away.
Billy led you to the bedroom. As you pulled your pants and underwear off, Billy beat the record to pull his clothes off as well. His shirt was already on the floor and while he worked on his pants, you caught the scars on his shoulder and side. 
Your fingers went to the ones on his shoulder first, tracing over them. Then you touched the one low on his side.
“What are these from?”
Billy placed his hand over yours as you touched the one on his side.
“I’ll tell you all about them. After,” he added as he leaned in to kiss you again. 
You smiled against his lips, unable to help yourself. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about kissing Billy. In fact you’d thought about it a lot, even that first night when he’d scared you nearly to death. There had always been some sort of attraction between the two of you, something you never dwelled on because you hadn’t been interested in making things awkward between the two of you.
Although now you didn’t think that it would be very awkward. Something told you that Billy was just as interested as you were. 
Instead of focusing on the scars on either of you, you decided to focus on Billy and the way he was making you feel. 
There’d be time to talk later.
Billy wasn’t in the apartment when you woke up, but a note on the table said that he had to run to Anvil and would pick up breakfast on his way back. You had smiled at the note and folded it to put into your pocket. You were stupidly enamored by that man.
As you went over to the coffee pot that looked like it belonged in a spaceship, you heard your phone ring from your purse on the coffee table. With the reminder that your dad was in the hospital, you rushed over and grabbed it.
It was him. You immediately answered.
“Dad? Are you okay?”
“Hey kiddo,” your dad answered, his voice drowsy and laced with pain. “Finally awake enough to call. Wanted to hear your voice. The goon at the door said you’d called and talked to the doctor.”
“Dad.” Your voice broke as you slumped onto the couch. “Dad, you…do you remember what happened? Who did it?”
There was silence for a long moment before your dad sighed, the noise a bit strangled as he wheezed.
“I only saw him for a split second, but I’d recognize it anywhere. I thought I was seeing things.” You listened as he shifted, the bed crinkling him under him loud enough for you to hear over the phone. “He came by when I was in the car. I think he thought I was dead or maybe unconscious, but I heard his voice. I heard him tell me it was about time.”
You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around you as tight as you could. 
“I had a letter on my windshield last night. It asked me if I missed him. I don’t think it’s a copycat dad. I think that he was involved in the original murders.”
The slow beeps from the phone was the only way you knew the call hadn’t failed. Then your dad finally spoke.
“I think you’re right. I don’t know why, but I agree.”
At least you were all on the same page with that.
Your phone buzzed with an incoming call and you checked it to see that it was Billy. After you told your dad you’d call him back in a bit, you switched over to talk to him.
“Hey, is everything okay at Anvil?”
“You’re still at the apartment, right? You didn’t leave.”
You looked around for some reason and then sat up a bit straighter.
“Yeah, I’m still here. What happened?”
There was a lot going on in the background in the call and you strained your ears enough to pick up a few words. By things you could hear, Billy was near a bunch of cops.
“There was another murder. Your next door neighbor, Melinda Geillis.”
You knew Melinda well enough, the two of you often talked in the elevators or hallway. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head.
“Are we sure it was him?”
Billy said something quietly to someone nearby and then it was quiet on the other side of the phone.
“Her throat was slit and then she was dragged into your apartment and propped up on your couch like she was watching television.”
The memory of your brother’s body flashed before your eyes. Yeah, that was him. 
“There’s a note here too. It says ‘sorry I missed you’.”
You flinched at that. Then your hand went to your pocket where Billy’s note was. The feel of the paper comforted you a bit.
“Dad said he saw him, recognized the outfit from the night of the attack. He also said he heard his voice. The guy came by after the accident and was taunting my dad, either because he thought he was dead or thought he wouldn’t hear. He said it was about time.”
Billy swore through his teeth. You could almost picture his face as he absorbed that information.
“We’re gonna catch this guy, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you or to your dad. Not again.”
You let out a breath and then slumped against the couch a bit.
“How’d you find out anyway? I mean, if it was in my apartment, you’d think I would have heard about it first.”
“I was driving by and saw the police presence,” Billy explained softly as someone came through the room he was in, talking about taking pictures. “I asked what happened and they let me know. I’ve worked with enough local law enforcement so they let me up. The detective in charge is going to call you, but…I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
You laughed a bit as you reached up to rub at your eyes.
“Thank you Billy. Really.”
“I’ll come pick you up and bring you to the station so we can coordinate with the locals. Just stay inside and keep the door locked, okay? There’s a spare gun in the safe; the combination is 7895.”
You looked over at the safe, but didn’t make moves to go get it. You weren’t big on guns.
“I’ll see you shortly Billy. Thanks again.”
When the call was over, you leaned back and wrapped your arms around your legs. It had been such a long morning already and you’d only been awake for an hour. 
At some point this would be over, wouldn’t it? One way or another.
The police station wasn’t a place you’d spent a lot of time since you’d come to the city. Once upon a time, in the little seaside town you’d grown up in, you’d been in the police station a lot. Not for any nefarious reasons of course, simply because your dad had worked for the force. You’d gotten comfortable in police stations.
Now though? You had to admit that you were very uneasy. It wasn’t the people themselves of course, they were just your run of the mill law enforcement officers. No, you were uneasy because of the reason you were there.
Billy had suggested that you not see the pictures from the crime scene, but you reminded him that you had lived through it once. 
It was like seeing a ghost. Your neighbor’s body was propped up in a mirror of your brother’s, down to the television being on in front of her and playing the news. You tried not to stare into her lifeless eyes, but in the close up picture your only other option was to look at the gash across her neck.
There had been a struggle. She had fought hard.
After some questions and rehashing the details with the police, you were led to the front lobby to leave, but Billy doubled back to coordinate coverage at your dad’s hospital room. While he did that, you called your dad to let him know what was going on.
“You gotta leave the city,” your dad said sternly. “I don’t want to lose you. You need to leave, you need to get somewhere this maniac will never find you.”
“Dad, I can’t leave. Look what happened when I stayed somewhere else for one night? Who knows what will happen if–”
“Hey, they said we can head out whenever,” Billy called as he approached. He nodded to where your phone was against your ear, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just my dad. Hey dad, I’ve got to–”
Your name from your dad made you pause what you were saying, only slightly annoyed by being interrupted again. Something in your dad’s voice made you stop speaking, stop breathing. There was terror in his voice.
“Who is that? With you right now. Who is with you?”
You looked over at Billy who was frowning in concern.
“It’s my friend Billy, the one I’ve told you about? He’s the one that brought me to the police station after what happened at my apartment.”
There was a long pause that made you a little antsy.
“You need to get away from him right now. You need to get out of there. Immediately.”
“Dad–”
“Stop. Don’t let him know, but leave. Go back into the station, stay with them. Get away from him. That’s the voice I heard after my accident.”
You swallowed thickly as you heard those words, your eyes going from Billy to the door he had just come through. You could see police officers moving around through the glass door. From the peripheral you could see Billy watching you, barely making out the concern still on his face as you stood a little straighter.
“Are you sure?”
“I can’t be one hundred percent sure, not over a phone, but it sounds just like him. Please, get away from him.”
With your eyes closed, you listened to your dad plead with you while you remembered the way that Billy had touched you the night before. Was it possible? Was it possible that Billy was this person that was tormenting you? Killing people?
The things you knew about Billy told you that anything was possible. 
You nodded and then made a noise like you were listening to your dad as you reached and patted yourself, as if looking for something.
“Billy, can you check and see if I left my wallet in the interview room,” you said with a glance over at him. “I don’t want to see the pictures again but I think I left my wallet in there.”
“Sure,” he said with a nod and a brief touch to your arm.
When he disappeared behind the door to head back to the interview room, you grabbed your wallet out of your pocket and nearly ran from the police station. On the road you found a cab that was thankfully letting someone out of the door at the same time that you’d gotten there, so you simply slid right in. Then you thought about where to go.
After you gave the address to the hospital your dad was at, you glanced over your shoulder to the door of the police station. Right as the cab started to pull away from the curb, you saw Billy step out and look around. You didn’t know if he saw you or not, but you settled back into your seat and let out a sigh.
“I’m headed to you dad,” you said softly. “I don’t know if you’re right, I don’t see how Billy could…but I’m on my way.”
You had no idea how to explain what your dad may or may not have heard. You couldn’t imagine that Billy was the one that had done those things. How would he have even been involved?
But you remembered that every time something had happened, Billy had been gone. He’d been on the road after the attacks back home, he’d been out when the note had been left on your car and your dad had been hit, he’d been out when your neighbor was attacked.
Was it possible that billy wasn’t who you thought he was? Was it possible that you’d slept with someone you shouldn’t have trusted?
The mere thought made your stomach turn.
The officer at the door was a bit confused when you told him not to let an Anvil employee watch the door alone, but he reluctantly agreed without you explaining why. He was agreeable otherwise.
Your dad looked rough, but he smiled tightly when you came into the room. His eyes cut to the door and then back to you as you shut it behind you.
“His men were out there, weren’t they? Are they still?”
“Not right now,” you said as you went over to his side to grab his hand. “I still don’t know for sure, but if that’s what you heard, then I have to trust you.”
Your dad winced as he leaned closer to you, his hand tight on yours. 
“We can’t stay here. From what I’ve been able to tell, he has a lot of pull with the locals.”
“Dad, you can’t go anywhere. Look at you, you’re barely able to sit up right now. I can’t lug you around, I’m not strong enough for that.”
Your dad closed his eyes and nodded slowly. 
“So you need to go somewhere else. Somewhere without telling anyone. Once you’re gone, I’ll talk to a detective about my theory and we’ll have him looked into.”
You shook your head as he spoke.
“No, I can’t leave without you,” you cried as you hugged him, gently to keep from hurting him. “If something happened to you while I was gone, it would kill me. I can’t lose you.”
“I’ll be safe here until I’m able to get out myself. I’ll call a friend to come sit with me for a while. You’re my only concern, you’re my priority.”
You wiped your tears off your cheeks as you pulled back a bit. With a sniffle you glanced over at the door to see the back of the cop’s head as he pulled his phone to his ear. As he nodded and looked over his shoulder at you, you felt something cold wash over you.
“I have to go now. I think Billy’s trying to find out if I’m here.”
“Then go sweetheart. Do you remember the plan for Tallahassee?”
The codeword made you shake a bit. It was picked after your mom and brother had been killed as it’s where your mom had originally been from. If something ever happened and you and your dad had to run off, you’d go to a location that was a secret between the two of you. Far away from Tallahassee, but it was a word that could be used even in front of others without being discovered.
You really hoped you never had to use it.
“One week and then I’ll head to Tallahassee,” you said as you stood up and wiped tears from your eyes again. “Then when you’re better, you can join me.”
“One week for us both, whether or not I’m feeling better.” 
The old man was stubborn. You laughed a bit as you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then the forehead.
“I love you dad,” you said as you placed another kiss on his forehead.
“I love you too kiddo,” he repeated as he squeezed your hand. “Go. Get out of here and be safe.”
That’s all that there was to it. And now you needed to figure out where to go to wait out the week.
You’d need to stop at some ATMs to get money out so that you wouldn’t leave a trail. Something told you that Billy would use whatever resources he had to find you and you weren’t going to give him that chance.
The man at the front desk of the motel didn’t even look at your ID or anything else as you pushed the cash over for the week. He simply counted the bills and then handed you the key.
“Ice machine doesn’t work, vending machines are on the first floor, pool is closed for now.”
You tucked the rest of your money into your waller and palmed the key, mumbling a thanks to him as you turned and walked out of the office. Your room was on the second floor so you made it up the stairs with the crinkle of the grocery bags you carried your freshly bought clothes in. At room 17, you put the key into the lock and turned it. It stuck a bit but came open after that.
“Home sweet home,” you muttered as you dropped the grocery bags onto the bed. 
You’d bought some clothes and some other necessities on your way out of the city. Here you were, about six hours from the city, settling into a motel that didn’t even have a sign to tell you the name.
At some point you’d need to go to the vending machines and get a few snacks. Maybe try to find a local grocery store where you could get some nonperishable items. There was a microwave in the room and a mini-fridge. More like a mini-mini-fridge, but whatever.
You felt naked without your cell phone, but you definitely knew that you could be tracked with that, so you’d left it at the hospital. 
With a sigh you sat on the bed and grimaced a bit at the hardness of the mattress. Not exactly comfortable, but you’d make do. If it meant not losing your life, you’d lose some comfort. The remote was next to the bed so you grabbed it and turned the television on, turning the volume down a good deal just in case. You never trusted these places. 
One channel surf later you landed on the news. It touched on a bunch of national stuff before it narrowed in to local and you waited to see if anything would come up about the killer. It never came.
After the news cycled over to some infomercials, you grabbed some money and left your room, locking it behind you. You checked your surroundings carefully before you headed down the stairs to the vending machine.
There were only about five cars in the parking lot besides yours. You looked over each and tried to commit them to memory before you stepped into the alcove where the vending machines were. You grabbed a bottle of water and an energy drink from one and then some chips and some chocolate from the other. Hands full, you stepped out of the alcove and looked around on your way to the stairs.
Six cars.
You stopped where you were and stared at the new car, a nondescript dark colored sedan. Between the distance and the darkness, you couldn’t tell if there was anyone in the car. They were parked in front of the office though, so it was possible that it was another person here just to get a room. It wasn’t far off the beaten track from the interstate so maybe they found it the same way you did.
With a deep inhale, you held your breath and ran up the stairs. You had to juggle the items in your hands to get your key back out and back into the room. It didn’t stick this time so you were able to get in and shut it behind you in mere seconds, locking it and the chain behind you.
Then you pulled the chair from the corner and pushed it in front of the door.
Once that was done you put your items down on the dresser and moved further into the room. The bathroom was open so you could see into it clearly, but you turned on the light and looked around just in case. Even checked behind the shower curtain. Then you checked the half closet which wasn’t really big enough to hold a grown man.
You looked under the bed but there was a trundle bed so not enough room for someone to fit.
Satisfied that the room was empty besides yourself, you went over to the window and peered out. The angle you had didn’t allow you to see much, but you could see your car at least. 
Tomorrow you’d head out to a nearby grocery or convenience store to get what you needed for the rest of the week. Once you were through the week and could head to the meeting place with your dad, things would be fine. You’d be safe again.
You still couldn’t believe that Billy was the one doing this to you. Part of you refused to believe it, the part that had had sex with him and laid in his arms the whole night. The rest of you had more questions than you had answers and when faced with the unknown, you had to rely on what you could put together. Your dad had said he couldn’t be certain but felt it was a close enough similarity to demand you leave and save yourself.
That night when you curled up on the hard as hell mattress, the thin blanket pulled over your body and the television providing light into the room, you weren’t sure you’d ever fall asleep. Not with how your brain was on turbo mode.
But you were able to finally fall asleep somewhere after two in the morning.
The third night at the motel had been as uneventful as the other two. You had gotten some food at a nearby convenience store so you didn’t have to rely on vending machine snacks. You also got a deck of cards so you could play solitaire with yourself to waste time.
The news still didn’t say anything about what was happening, but you had to imagine there were constant murders in the city so maybe it didn’t make the radar yet. You didn’t know how many more deaths it would take for it to hit the news cycle but you hoped it didn’t get to that.
As you crossed the room to do your hourly check of the window, you wondered what everyone else was doing. Your dad, Karen, Frank…even Billy.
Since you’d been in the motel, you’d spent a lot of time thinking about Billy. Thinking about him being the killer, thinking about it all being a miscommunication. The more you thought about him, the less you felt certain one way or another.
As you stared out the window, you checked the parts of the parking lot that you could see and then looked over to where your car was parked. As you looked at it, you noticed someone walking past your car and towards the office. It was dark so you couldn’t make out who the person was, but you traced their steps back to see if there was another car nearby that they had come out of.
There was a truck not far from your car that was in line with the path they were taking, but it had been there since yesterday. 
You looked at the chair in front of your door and made sure it was still pressed against the door. This way at least you knew you would have a warning if someone tried to get into the room while you were there.
Back on the bed you grabbed the cards and shuffled them a bit. It was time for more solitaire. You really wished you’d grabbed something else, anything else at this point. It was hard to go without a phone to spend your time, but you were making do. 
A noise outside made you look over to the window with the blinds down. A streetlight let a little light in and you stared at it for a long time until you watched a little darkness move over the window. Someone was walking past your window towards your door.
You held your breath and waited. When you heard the door beside yours open, you let it out with a sigh. It was another person staying in the hotel.
Without winning the current game of solitaire, you turned off the light and stacked the cards on the bedside table. You had a flashlight that you’d gotten at the convenience store that you kept nearby as you curled up on the bed, your eyes on the window and door. When no sounds came to you, no change in the minimal light that trickled through, you felt yourself drift off to sleep.
A dream came to you then, while you dozed in and out. A darkness seemed to pour into the room from the ceiling, like a shadow but more solid. The darkness seemed to melt and shift along the lines of the ceiling, never fully there as you stared up at it.When you woke up, it was with your back to the window and door, a blank wall in front of you. The first thing you did was look up to the ceiling but there were no shadows moving around.
You rolled over to your other side and immediately checked the window, but nothing had changed. It was still dark out there, still a slight amount of light pouring through the window. You blinked lazily and rubbed your eyes before you looked at the door to check that the chair was still there.
It wasn’t. It was in the corner now and someone was in it.
You sat up and opened your mouth to scream, but it didn’t come out as the occupant leaned forward and was lit up by the incoming light stream.
Billy.
“How’d you find me?”
There was a beat of silence as he nodded then sat back so that he disappeared a bit from your sight. 
“It wasn’t easy. You really tried to drop off the grid. It’s my job to be able to find people though.”
“Yeah,” you said uneasily as you shrank back in the bed a bit, your legs pulling to your chest and bracing just in case you needed to jump up. “How’d you get in here without making a noise? The chair…”
“Took some maneuvering. I figured you’d do something like that.”
You blinked and tried to nod a bit. Of course he’d know how to get through your defenses. You should have known.
“What are you going to do to me?”
It was quiet for a long moment before Billy leaned forward again to look at you. You wished you could see whatever emotions were in those dark eyes, but from this distance the dark brown was pitch black and it made you feel hunted.
“Why would I do anything to you? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Safe. You’d heard the word a lot, but it had been a long time since you felt it. And right then, with Billy sitting in a chair across the room, you didn’t know if safe is what you felt at all.
What was the next step? Did you confront him for who you suspected he was? Did you wait for him to prove you right or wrong? 
“Why didn’t you let me protect you? I could have gotten you and your dad somewhere safe. Then maybe…”
You watched as he looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed. 
“Maybe what?”
He looked over at you and shook his head.
“You left your phone at the hospital so you hadn’t heard. The killer broke into the hospital, somehow got through the security we had on your dad. He survived, got a few stab wounds, but the killer took down two of my men and a police officer.”
You felt sick. Your body bowed in and you pressed your face into your knees as you thought about it. At least your dad was alive, but being stabbed on top of already suffering from the car accident couldn’t be good. 
“He’s alive. He’ll stay alive,” Billy said as a hand came down to rest on your shoulder.
You jerked backwards as he touched you, body nearly falling off the bed as you tried to get away from the touch. When you looked up and met his concerned gaze, you couldn’t help the pitiful laugh that came from you.
“What will it take? What do I have to do?”
Your stomach rolled as you thought about what he might say.
“What are you talking about?”
At some point tears had started to flow down your cheeks as you stared up at Billy. His hand on your shoulder, the scent of the cologne that he always wore, it made you feel lost in memories you couldn’t afford to be lost in.
“He heard your voice. The day of his accident, he heard the killer and when he heard your voice at the police station, he said it was you.”
Billy’s hand fell to his side as he stared down at your crumpled form.
“My voice? So you…what, think I’m the other murderer? This whole time. Even from when you were in high school?”
You closed your eyes for a long moment and then shook your head.
“I don’t…I don’t know Billy. He said he heard you. And every time there was a murder, you weren’t with someone who could account for your whereabouts. What am I supposed to think?”
He crossed his arms and took a few steps back to lean against the wall across from you.
“I’ve killed before. More than a few times and not all of them deserved it. But I never killed anyone stateside that I didn’t have to.”
You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stared at Billy.
“He heard you Billy. He recognized your voice.”
“He had a concussion. Maybe he heard something, someone, but how could he be sure it was me? Especially since the second time was just over the phone.”
You wiped the tears out of your eyes as you stared up at him.
“I can’t take the chance Billy. I can’t take the chance that you’re someone who wants to hurt me.”
“I could never hurt you,” Billy swore as he walked closer to you. Then he shook his head as he turned away. “But you’re right. You can’t take the chance. If I’d known this was your worry, I never would have come here.”
He got to the door and right as you thought about telling him not to leave, to ask him to talk the rest of this through with you, he opened the door and things happened so quickly after that.
A masked man stood on the other side of the door. The moment it came open, he raised his knife and brought it down hard into Billy’s shoulder. You screamed and shoved yourself up and off the bed, body stuck between going to the door and further away. 
You grabbed Billy and pulled him back, body slamming against the door to try to close it. Billy threw his body weight into it too, wincing as the shoulder with the blood pouring through it slammed against the wood. The two of you got the door slammed shut but you still didn’t move.
“Believe me now?” Billy asked through gritted teeth as he moved around you to peer through the peephole. “He’s not there. He’ll come back though.”
You nodded as you tried to get your brain to get back on path. While Billy kept his body against the door, you grabbed a washcloth from the dresser and pressed it hard against his shoulder to stem the blood flow.
“What are we going to do?”
Billy accepted the cloth and held it against his shoulder. With his free hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife which he pressed into your hands. As you were about to ask what he was going to use, he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and checked that it was ready..
“We need to make a run for the car. We can call the cops once we’re on the road.”
You nodded and grabbed your wallet from the dresser and shoved it into the pocket of your sweats. There was nothing else here that you needed to make sure you had. Prepared, you grabbed Billy’s uninjured shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“I should go first.”
“I don’t care if I was missing an arm. You’re not going first,” Billy said through gritted teeth as he shoved the cloth under his jacket. Then he moved to tuck you behind him. “You stay at my back, okay? Keep the knife up and let me know if I need to turn and shoot. Are you ready?”
No. 
“Yeah,” you breathed as you stood at his side.
He went out first and looked both directions a few times before he motioned for you to follow him. He gestured to keep you close to him. You stepped out and didn’t bother shutting the door as the two of you headed to the stairs. As you made your way past the front office, you noticed blood sprayed on the wall behind where the man had sat at the computer.
“Oh god,” you whimpered as you kept as close to Billy as you could.
“Eyes forward baby, we can’t wait. We’re almost there.”
He was leading you to his car, not yours. You looked behind the two of you to see if someone was out there, aware of what was going on, but you saw nothing. Heard nothing but the pounding of your heart between your ears.
At the car, Billy unlocked it and tugged you to go to the passenger door. As you reached out, you saw something from the corner of your eye.
“BILLY!”
He spun you around and thrust himself between the two of you, his gun raised at the man that had been running at you. He stopped, his knife still raised. The eerie black mask tilted this way and that as he stared at the two of you.
“You can’t win. Gun beats knife.”
“I don’t have to win. I just have to take one of you down with me.”
That voice. It sounded similar to Billy’s, enough that if you’d heard it you might think the same thing. But you didn’t dwell on that as you watched the man launch himself forward at the two of you. The gun went off and the attacker faltered, but he kept on running. When his body ran into Billy’s and shoved you against the car, you heard the gun skitter to the asphalt. 
As the attacker stabbed the knife into Billy’s side again, the moan of pain coming from the man you were trying to hold up, you realized that you didn’t have a choice. You had to lean around Billy to do what you needed to.
The knife went straight into the attacker’s bicep first. Then you pulled it out and swung out, harder this time. As it went into the attacker’s neck, Billy reached up and took hold of your wrist and thrusted it in harder. The attacker’s scream echoed through the emptyish parking lot, you stepped around Billy and pulled the knife out before you plunged it in again. 
Billy’s hand didn’t leave your wrist as you thrusted the knife into the man’s neck and chest, over and over. When the attacker fell, you almost went with him just to keep going, but Billy wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you up.
“He’s gone,” Billy said into your ear as he held you tight. “He’s gone. You can stop.”
You closed your eyes for a long moment before you looked at the body slumped at your feet. He was gone. He was gone and this was over.
The knife fell to the ground next, clattering loudly as it bounced a bit. Your eyes burned as you stared at the man who had tried once more to end your life.
“Who…”
Billy squeezed your hip and then bent down. You shook your head because you didn’t know where Billy’s wounds were but you were worried he would hurt himself worse than he already was. You followed him down, hands immediately on his sides to check his injuries.
“No, no, stop,” he said as he pushed your hands away for a second. “We need to…”
He reached out for the man’s mask but you grabbed his wrist and stopped him. When he pulled his hand away, you reached out for the mask yourself.
The man under it was completely nondescript. You weren’t sure that you’d ever seen him before in your life, not here or back home. He looked like any man you may have passed on the street a thousand times.
“I don’t know who that is,” you said as you stared at him.
“He’s dead. That’s who he is.”
You slumped on the ground next to the car. When Billy passed his cell phone to you, you immediately dialed 911. Billy needed an ambulance. And this needed to be put to an end immediately.
As the dispatcher answered, you remembered the first time you’d made this call. Instead of staring at the death of your mom and brother, you were staring at Billy’s bleeding body and his tired eyes.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance and a lot of cops. We were just attacked by a known serial killer and we had to kill him to defend ourselves.”
Billy smiled with pride at you as he reached out to grab your hand in his.
The room your dad was in was a different one this time, but you found it easily enough. When you walked in, your dad was talking to the nurse quietly. She smiled and waved at you as she turned to leave, giving you the space to nearly climb into your dad’s bed to hug him.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you mumbled softly as you tucked your face into his neck.
His arms went around you and you noticed one arm didn’t have the same strength as the other. Still, he didn’t let you go for a long time.
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” your dad finally said as you pulled away. “If I hadn’t accused Billy, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“We can’t think about what might have happened,” you said as you grabbed his hand to hold it tight in yours.
The injuries from the accident were mostly healed but now your dad had the knife wounds to heal from. The doctors promised that he would make a full recovery and that it wouldn’t hold him back any. 
“I’m just glad it’s over. That you’re safe.”
You sat with that for a long moment. As terrified as you had been for so long, even before you knew there was someone out to get you, it had been so hard to feel safe. Your memories and nightmares kept you on the edge, even when you were supposed to be safe.
The only times those memories and nightmares stopped were when you were with Billy. 
“When he’s better, I want to meet Billy. I want to apologize in person. He deserves that much.”
You glanced at your dad and then back down to your clasped hands. 
“If I hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have been hurt. I should have talked to him, heard him out instead of just running.”
Your dad squeezed your hand until you looked up at him.
“It’s not your fault. I told you to leave. You listened to me.” 
“I’m an adult dad, I could have stood up for myself at any point. I believed you because I think part of me didn’t trust Billy but I should have.”
You knew things about Billy and Frank, things that made it a little easier to believe that he would. Although knowing those things, you shouldn’t have assumed anything. You knew Billy better than that. At least you should have.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he told me he never wanted to see me again.”
You tugged on the fabric of your scrub pants, provided by a nurse at some point. The police had gathered your clothes for evidence since they had been drenched in blood. Mostly Billy’s.
“Kiddo, from what I’ve seen and heard since all of this happened, that man isn’t going to turn away just because of some stabs. He moved heaven and earth to find you when you ran off. The only other reason for him to do that besides being the killer is because he cares.”
You laughed and shook your head, but didn’t say anything. Instead you moved to lean into your dad’s arms once more.
“It’s all going to be okay sweetheart. It’s over.”
He was right, it was all over. It was going to be okay.
Somehow.
The room Billy was in was on a different floor. When you knocked on the door, his voice called out that you could enter. He was sitting up on the bed, a tablet in his hands as he looked through it. When he looked up, he seemed surprised to see you. 
“Hey,” you said slowly, drawing the word out a lot longer than it needed to. “I don’t have to stay or anything, I just wanted to check on you.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he put the tablet down to the side.
“Why wouldn’t you stay?”
You shifted a bit before you took two steps into the room.
“You wouldn’t be in that bed if it wasn’t for me. Plus the whole, you know, thinking you were a serial killer thing.”
Billy laughed which surprised you. He gestured you over to him and after you glanced over at the chair a few feet away, he made a soft ‘tsk’ sound before he patted the bed beside him. 
As you sat down on the very edge of the bed, Billy made that noise again and tugged you to him. You immediately froze and checked to make sure you hadn’t landed on any of the bandages on his chest, but he shook his head when he could tell what you were looking for.
“I’ve had worse,” he said as he put his hand over the bandage on his side.
“Billy, I–”
“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘understand that this wasn’t my fault’ then I’m not sure I want to hear them.”
“It was my fault though. If I hadn’t left without even talking to you, hadn’t thought you were the killer, you wouldn’t have had to come find me. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
Fingers under your chin made you move your head until you met Billy’s dark eyes. 
“Given the chance, I would always put my body between you and danger. Whether or not you thought I was the danger. And in the end, you know I wasn’t involved.” After a beat of silence, he narrowed his eyes and gave you a small smirk. “You do know that I wasn’t involved, don’t you?”
You laughed and leaned into the hand on your face a little.
“If this was a movie or something, it might not mean that you were uninvolved. But this isn’t a movie, it’s real life. So no, I don’t still think you were involved.”
Billy laughed and released your chin but only so that he could reach down and run his fingers over your wrist a bit.
“I’m just glad that nothing happened to you. It would have…I don’t think I could have handled it if something would have happened to you while you were running from me.”
You didn’t want to think about that either. Billy being there had been a fluke, it should have just been you against him. That made you look at his bandages once more.
“It feels wrong somehow that you and dad got hurt this time but I didn’t. I’m glad that Frank and Karen had gotten out of town and were safe, but I came out of this without a scratch on me and both of you had been attacked.”
“I like to think of it as cosmic karma.” At your confused look, Billy explained. “The last time, you were the one that went through it all. You saw the dead bodies of your mom and brother, you got chased around the basement, you’re the one that had to fight for your life, you’re the one that still wears the scars. In more ways than one. So this time, we were able to take that for you. We can bear those for you.”
You didn’t even realize you were crying until he wiped the tears away. You sniffled and wiped at your face as you looked away from a long moment, gathering your thoughts.
“Do you think…”
You didn’t know how to continue the thought. When you didn’t, Billy called your name. As you looked up, he leaned forward until he could press his mouth against yours.
“Karen and Frank will be happy about this development at least,” he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. “They’ve been telling me to get over my hesitation and ask you out for a while. I just wanted to give you space until you were ready.”
With a laugh you raised your hand and pulled Billy back in for another kiss.
It had been a tough few years since the original murders. Safety had been hard to come by. Since then you had kept yourself caged and terrified the whole time. It had been hard to make connections with people over the last few years. But now? Even before the encounter in the parking lot with you killing the man who had tormented you.
Now you were thinking it was time for you to live your life once more. You smiled and leaned back between kisses to mutter two words to Billy.
“I’m ready.”
X
Thank you for reading this year's Halloween fic! I hope you enjoyed!
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minhosimthings · 8 months
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Someone Older, Just a Little Bit Colder.
Summary: Yoon Y/N and Lee Minho. Perfect enemies. But when some guns and roses get mixed up with both of them, I wonder what the fates have weaved for their story.
Pairings: Fem!reader × Minho, classic Enemies to Lovers. Includes rest of Skz and other groups
Warnings: lots of violence, blood, murder, guns, swearing, mention of food, mention of dead bodies. There is a lot of violence so please do not interact if you are sensitive to these things.
A/N - I finished this finally. This took a lot of time and it is probably my longest work till date. I took inspiration from an edit I saw on Instagram. So here you go! Please enjoy this and feel free to give me feedback. I don't like some parts of the fic that much tho. Cause I was very lazy when I wrote them.
Song rec:
1: I need someone older
"No, no, no" Mournful voices were surrounding your frame. "No this can't be happening. Please Y/N!" Tears, not yours, dripped onto your skin as something red mixed with it to create a pretty little cocktail. "Fuck princess wake up! Fuck no....."
"Y/N! Come down quick! You've gotta get to school!" Another day of school. How mechanical was your life. In your final year of high school, you'd have thought that your life would have sugar, spice and everything nice. But instead, you got stuck with a robotic schedule, which consisted of waking up, going to school, coming back, food time, homework, checking to see if any colleges had sent you mails and then going back to sleep. But you couldn't really complain, because you were in Jeju Island. Literally everyone here had the same robotic schedule. Well maybe except for the richest people here. Your family was what was known as the middle classes. You lived comfortably, but not too plushily and your mom and dad both had jobs. Your elder sister Jinhee and you basically raised each other and now, with Jinhee, already graduated and married (since she was seven years older than you), you were left all alone in your turquoise room, with white borders and black finishes. It wasn't the fact that you weren't happy or anything. But, as a child of the Cosmos and as a ruler of the skies and tides, you wanted to feel that feeling that people had when they would roll around in the grass, or buy flowers from a sweet old lady, or wear ridiculous nail polish with someone, keeping the stories of the stars to yourself, whenever someone asks 'what did you do last night?'. But wasn't that why fairytales existed? To tell you that getting all those things was nothing but a mere dream? A dream which you hoped would come true? Which you hoped that the universe would understand your heart's desire and grant it to you?
"Be safe alright? Got your pepper spray?" "Yes ma don't worry. Im always safe aren't I?" Your mother kissed your forehead gently before letting to walk off to school, pepper spray in hand, knife hidden up the sleeve of your blue school sweater. The road from your house to your school was one of the safest ones. It was a suburban area, with families like yours lining up the street. You had no problem walking by yourself, and casually greeting the wakening families, with their toddlers and teenagers. You felt safe here and in the rare times there was some danger, you knew you could kick their asses (flashback to that one time you thought your dad was a stranger and accidentally kicked him hard in the shin. He still doesn't forgive you for that)
"Miss Yoon. Are you walking alone your highness?" That voice. That voice was perhaps the bane of your existence (not the object of all your desires. Sue me for using Bridgerton right now). A smooth black car pulled up next to you as you were just a metre away from the school. The windows were rolled down to reveal a young boy, your age with fluffy plum brown hair, cat like eyes, a sharp nose and a smirk on his stupid face. Lee Minho. Also known as the worst person you knew. And no this wasn't an enemies to lovers scenario. It usually is but this? Yeah absolutely not. Lee Minho had been your childhood neighbour since he was six. He lived with his grandparents since he was six, with his parents being in one of the richest families of South Korea and working in Seoul. He also went to your school, which was weird considering he was basically a billionaire and still chose to go to the 'middle class' school along with his his seven friends, who coincidentally were also from the seven richest families of South Korea.
"Oh no Minho. I wasn't walking alone. I have an invisible friend that you can't see from behind those stupidly pretty eyes of yours." You threw him a glare as his smirked just increased in size. "You think my eyes are pretty?" "Oh for fucks sake. What do you want?" "Language, princess." Minho chuckled and unlocked the passenger seat door. "Get in." You let out a chuckle and said "With you? Oh no thank you. I would rather go to Hell and dance with the devil." "Oh come on princess." Minho's face only widened even more to form the face of the devil himself. "You know people who die to even touch my car. You're lucky I'm offering you to ride in it." You rolled your eyes at him. So fucking cocky for no reason. You decided that you couldn't take it anymore and just started walking with a small 'I'll see you at school Minho goodbye now.'. Minho seemed to have taken the sign as he locked his doors, rolled the windows down and sped away to school.
Finally some peace. You breathed in the September air as you watched the Magpies fly around with their mates. You always loved Magpies, courtesy to your dad always encouraging you to birdwatch whenever you were free, with the pink binoculars you had. And today, in the serene September air, it felt good, watching two birds in love fluttering around, probably having a conversation about who knows what. There was that odd feeling in your chest again, that feeling which you pretended wasn't loneliness. People never understood the difference between alone and lonely. Yes you can be alone and you can enjoy it to your fullest. Some of your friends loved to be alone, eating chocolate, reading a nice book, sitting by the rain, all of those aesthetic things those Pinterest people do. You always craved to be like that too, but you never could. And you still had to learn to accept the fact that being basic wasn't a bad thing.
"Babe your foundation isn't blended properly come here. Hasn't Mama Huh taught you anything?" Your best friend Yunjin greeted you at the stairs of your school, with her bright unicorn bag and her perfect makeup as usual. "Sorry sweetheart. I really can't focus today." Yunjin gave you a sympathetic look as she blended the foundation on your neck with her hands carefully. "Is it Lee again? I swear to God one of these days I'm gonna go and tell him that you like him and then he'll confess to you and then this can be an enemies to lovers novel where I'm the sassy, amazing best friend who saves the day." You laughed at Yunjin's rambling. "And I thought Chaer was more delusional than you." "Do I hear my name?" A pretty girl with long black hair and perhaps the greatest jawline in the world came up behind you. Lee Chaeryoung, cousin of Minho and your second best friend, also your prettiest friend (sue me she's my wif- I mean my bias) "Hey Chaer. By the way have you guys completed Mr Hong's assignment?" Yunjin groaned at your words as she pulled out a red copy from her bag and opened it to reveal her messy handwriting. "I stayed up to finish this shit. Why do we need to analyse what a curtain means in Shakespearean language? Like I don't know. It could mean the heroine wants to be at an orgy for all I know." Chaer hit Yunjin's arm as you laughed at went inside the school to go to your English class along with Yunjin. Chaeryoung stalked off in the other direction, to her biology class, as you entered the class, where Mr.Hong wasn't present yet. You always dreaded English period, not because you weren't good in the subject, but because of the seating arrangement. Yunjin would always sit at the back of the class while you were stuck in the front with Minho. You internally groaned as you walked up to your seat, where Minho and Chan were talking to each other. Chan was a good friend of yours since your mom was the head of the Jeju Island branch of his dad's buisness. Curly haired, eyes filled with stars and the most gentle behaviour ever, he came straight out of a goddamn book. You always wondered how he became friends with Minho, considering both of them were as different as chalk and cheese. But then again, they has been brought up together, by their grandparents while their parents would stay in Seoul to run buisness.
"Hey Chan. Did you get those physics notes done yesterday?" Chan greeted at you with than omnipresent smile on his face as he nodded fervently like a puppy. "Yeah I got them done! It was really hard though. I really hope Mrs.Choi is absent today. So she can't call me out on my 'mistakes'." You smiled fondly at Chan as he took his seat on your other side, while Minho toyed with a blue hairband. Your hairband. "Minho where did you get that?" He turned to look at you and gave you that smug smirk again. "Why princess? Is it yours?" You scowled as you reached forward and grabbed the hairband out of his hands and stuffed it into your bag. "Yes it is mine! I think you'd know that considering I have been looking for this ever since the playground incident from when we were seven! Oh but I think you wouldn't remember that would you? Considering you're an ajhussi." It was Minho's time to scowl now and he scrunched up his nose like an angry bunny and stuck his tongue out at you, all while mumbling "I'm only two months older you know.", As Mr.Hong entered the classrooms in his pinstriped shirt and began asking for the assignments.
The rest of the day went as normal. You went to all of your classes, had a gossip-filled lunch with Chaeryoung, Yunjin, Miyeon, Sunoo and Jake, accidentally spilt water over Sunghoon from Chemistry, and got top grades in biology as usual.
Gosh September was good. September was lovely. People don't really get why September was so comforting to you. And to be frank, you didn't get it either. But there was this aura that September had that you couldn't shake. It wasn't just all pumpkin spice lattes or orange scarfs. It was..... Something else. Something you couldn't describe. You know that feeling when you bite into an ice cream cone? It crumbles all over you, but you love that feeling, that crunch combined with the sweet ice cream inside. That's what September was.
The bell rang loudly as school got over and you went over to the the basketball court. Being captain of the girls team, you always needed to stay back after school in order to train your team. "Unnie come quick would ya!" Chaewon, the team's greatest shooter called out to you. "Im not that late today Chaewon. That's a record for me!" Chaewon rolled her eyes as she adjusted her shorts. "Y/N are we gonna discuss some tactics for next week's game then? Cause I drew a lot of shit last night and I don't want it to go to waste." Wonyoung, the team's co-captain was nudging some papers into your hands. You gave her a quick smile as you looked over all the loopy drawings she did. "Oh and girls! Please remember to get your registration documents tomorrow! I really don't want to submit them late to Coach Kim." All your teammates nodded at your words and went on to the court, where to your dismay, Minho and his team were also practicing. You were annoyed. You had booked the court for today and has specifically checked with both of your coaches and yet again, your mortal enemy was playing with his team on what was meant to be your court. "Yah Minho! Get off the fucking court. We have it booked for today!" You gave him the biggest glare that you could muster, while he simply strode up to you, ball in hand, and that stupid smile on his face. "Aww princess. You booked the court for today? Well sad because I booked it earlier. I have a signed consent form from Coach Kim too. So either you can get off the court or we can have a practice game together." You felt like blowing up the earth below his feet right now but you couldn't do anything when he showed you the piece of paper on which Coach Kim had signed specifying that the boy's team could play today. "Fine then. But a practice game? Together? Boys versus girls?" Minho simply nodded at your words as you looked back at your girl standing behind you who were currently looking like they wanted to go to war. Seeing their determination, you extended a hand forward to Minho and in a assertive tone, said, "You're on then Lee. I wanna watch your pretty little face when you lose really badly. So what's the prize then?" You regretted asking that question when you saw Minho's face turning into that evil little smirk again. His team was assembled behind him and now you were a bit scared, considering that your tallest player was the size of their shortest one. "How about........ loser has to take the winner to that nice ice cream place that just opened down the street? And it'll only be us two. You know, captain to captain." Hearing that both your team and Minho's team broke out in high pitched 'ooohs' (yes even the Bois) as if you were doing something scandalous. You had no choice but to accept so you extended you hand again as Minho gripped it with his veiny hands and shook it firmly.
Chan and Chaeryoung were sitting by the stands since neither of them played and you smiled gently at them talking and giggling so fondly. The game started with one of the assistant coaches, Jungwon, refereeing. You were more determined now than you were at last month's regional games. You had to beat Minho and he had to take you to that stupid ice cream place. "Scared princess?" Minho asked as you assembled on the half line. You didn't say anything but threw him a smirk, hoping that it would catch him off guard. "Alright, ready set. Rumble!" Jungwon blew the whistle and threw the ball up in the air as you reached forward and managed to slap it onto your side of the court, where Wonyoung caught it and swiftly passed it on to Chaewon, who was standing by the hoops. You heard Minho scolding Jeongin, who was defending Chaewon, for not blocking her properly as you high fived Wonyoung for the quick pass.The rest of the game pretty much went the same way as you kept using witty tactics while Minho kept using speed and strength, which you knew was his greatest weakness. From time to time, his shirt would fly up ever so slightly and you would get distracted for a split second by his abs (which you scolded yourself for).
"Guys can you stop now please? It's 7:30. I'm going home now and you guys should too before they shut the school gate." Jungwon finally ended the game as you looked over at the scoreboard. You had won! You hugged Chaewon tightly before striding up to a very sweaty Minho who, not even in the slightest, looked defeated. "So, Mr Lee. You owe me ice cream now." He gave you a small smile, which made your heart leap, and said "Of course your Highness. Do you wanna get changed and then we can go? Or would you like to come being all sweaty?" You scowled at him and stuck your tongue out as you made your way to the changing rooms as he shouted behind you, "Meet me at the gate!" You quickly took a shower and changed into the tshirt and yoga pants you usually brought with you to change into after a sweaty game.
"Yah are you going to take me in your dumb car?" You questioned Minho as he pulled up by the gate. Chan had taken Chaeryoung home today so you didn't have anyone to walk you home, which was a plus point (for Minho). "Yes princess. Since the ice cream place is not at a walkable distance, atleast for my feet, we are going in my dumb car. And you don't wana walk home this late Y/N. It's dangerous you know? So get the fuck in and let's go. I'm hungry." You begrudgingly got in the car, silently admiring the sleep leather seats as Minho started the engine and turned the car. "Oh and Chan hyung already informed your mom and dad. They're not gonna come home tonight cause they're busy or something so I'll drive you back if you want." You snapped your head from the flying butterfly outside the window to Minho's concentrated face as you shyly mumbled a 'thank you'.
The drive to the ice cream was long and silent. You simply stated out the window while Minho stared forward, trying not to look at the way the rays of the setting sun fell on your skin or how your hair fell in that particular way that just felt good. Do the boys usually confess first? He didn't know. No he hated you. This is absolutely not fucking happening right now. You were Yoon Y/N, captain if the girls basketball team, annoying neighbour, beautiful mortal enemy. No not beautiful. Get out of it Minho!
"Uh is this the place? Looks cute." Minho's car pulled up near a tiny cafe like building called 'Jureimi's parlor', lit up in bright pink signs. "Oh yeah. I'll just park and we can go." You got out of the car as Minho parked nearby and got out too. "Is that boba flavoured ice cream?" You pointed at a brown coloured ice cream in ghe booth. The lady at the counter smiled at you as she nodded and gave you little sample cup. You offered a bit to Minho, who shook his head and went to find a table. "Get what you want. I'll pay." You rolled your eyes at him. He had to pay anyway for losing the game so badly.
You tasted the ice cream, which tasted like heaven and decided that you wanted this. "Can I get this in a cone please? Two scoops." The lady nodded and told her co worker your order, who went to the back to make it. You noticed some pudding cups on the shelf behind the lady. "Are those puddings?" "Oh yes. They're a new addition really. It's a favourite among all the grandmas here." You pointed at the vanilla one and asked the lady to give you that one, while you handed her the money and she handed you your ice cream and the pudding cup. You strode over to Minho, who was sitting with his legs wide open at the little round table in the corner of the store. "Is that for me?" He pointed at the pudding. "No dumbass it's for the Magpies." He gave you a sarcastic smile and grabbed the pudding cup from your hands. "I only got it for you cause this boba ice cream is expensive. So stop smirking at me." He looked up at you with those cat like eyes and slightly pouted, but remained quiet as both of you savoured on the sweet, sticky food.
"Dude how slow do you eat?" You watched Minho as he has halfway through his pudding, while you had already finished your ice cream. "Just slow enough to annoy you baby." You frowned at his words. "Do not call me that ever again. It's makes me wanna vomit." You made a gagging motion as Minho just simply chuckled. "Fine then. While I finish this amazing pudding, how about we play truth or dare hm? Because our impatient princess can't wait for five seconds without doing anything." You thought for a while before finally saying yes. "Alrightly then." Minho smiled at you. "Y/N. Truth or dare?" You picked truth, which seemed like the only viable option, considering the fact that you were in a shop, and Minho said, "How's your brother?"
Your heart dropped as you heard that sentence. How did he know about that? The blue shade of the shop spun around you as you tried to focus on anything else other than what just came out of Minho's mouth. Silence. Yes silence would work. Just give him a glare and it'll be over. "Oh come on princess. We all know what happened to your brother. I just wanna hear it from you personally." Your blood turned cold as your mind kept feeding you memories of that night. That faithful night. That peace filled night. That night when the Magpies stopped singing and September ran cold once more.
"Fuck you Lee Minho." Saying that, you picked up your bag and got up, slamming the chair to the ground, behind you. The lady at the counter looked up to see you walking about the door, pushing it agressively. "No Y/N wait!" Minho knew he had fucked up now. He had never meant to hurt you like this. He had learnt from Yunjin that you were already over your brother's incident. This was just supposed to be normal mortal enemy banter. How do you still remember? He quickly pulled out some cash and slammed it on the counter to the very shocked lady as he ran out after you. You wouldn't have gotten far. After all, you had to pass the school to get to your house. Minho quickly got in his car and started the engine with a blast. You had also left your headband in the carseat. So, that was another excuse for him to chase after you. He wasn't going to lose you again. Not now. Not when he was so close.
The street was dark and cold, lit up faintly by the wavering streetlights. This wasn't September anymore. You could feel December taking all the love out of September. And as you walked upon the concrete, you could feel the Magpies talking about you. You could feel the crescent moon feeling nothing but pity for you. You could feel all the plants with their bugs, looking at you and saying, "Yoon Y/N. You fucked up again just like you always do." You shouldn't have let your anger take control. But then again, when we deal with anger so long, she never tells us that her actual name is grief. Your brother was supposed to be a closed chapter of your life, but like a faded page of an Agatha Christie novel, he lingered on in your brain. All your family had far moved on, but you loved your twin brother, older than you by 8 minutes, too much to let him go from the dusty cabinets of your brain. You tried to forget his screams on that day and that cold, hard cackling but you couldn't. You were right there. Right in front of all the destruction, when your heart broke into a million pieces. Yet how could you forget such a memory?
"Y/N!" Minho was rolling up with this car next to you as you reached your house. The magenta coloured door was locked, your parents were still out on work. "Minho just fucking leave me alone. And I mean it this time. Don't even fucking talk to me." "Yn would you listen to me? Don't go inside the house!" What was this maniac saying? You stared at his figure getting out of the car and swiftly moving across over the lawn to your figure standing at the front door. "please just don't go inside the house." You noticed some figures behind him and you realised that Chan and his friends Jisung and Changbin were also there. "Minho what the fuck are you doing?" Minho looked at with what you thought looked like an expression of pity. "Just please don't go inside the house."
No you weren't going to listen to him. Absolutely fucking not. The last time you listened to him, you ended up in a mud covered ditch. Not today. "Fuck you and fuck your fucking existence Minho! I'm not listening to one word that comes out of that stupid mouth of yours." Before Minho could stop you and before Chan called out your name, you opened the door with gusto, only to be met, not with the familiar scent of Eau de Perfume but with the stench of iron. Your world came crashing down again. Your parents. Lying dead. On the floor. Of your house. Covered in blood. You were frozen. You couldn't move. A sense of familiarity came over you. You knew this feeling. This feeling of feeling like a thousand icicles had pierced your veins. All that came to your mind was him. No this can't be September. September was his birthday! It can't be this bad. No please don't let September be bad. "Y/N. Princess are you alright?" "Min- Minho. They're- they're not. No." The tears weren't coming. This wasn't sadness this was shock. "Chan hyung can you get her out of here? Jisung call the police. Now. Y/N. Y/N what are you doing!" You had strode up to your parents' bodies. Your mom was covered in more blood than your dad. Your dad looked like he was peacefully sleeping. Your mum's head seemed bashed in. Oh god the smell of blood. That night. All that remained was that night. You were too immersed in looking at your parents, that you didn't notice the creeping black figure in front of you. "So you're their daughter are you?" That husky voice was the last thing you heard before a gun shot, Minho's voice and the thud of your body. There was something warm on your stomach. And gooey. And red. This felt nice, you thought. Dying felt nice. If only he felt like this before....
Chan and Changbin slammed the man who had stabbed you onto the wall, destroying some photo frames in the process. Jisung turned on all the lights and went over to the two other men to get a look at the stranger. Minho, on the other hand, had rushed to your side, picking you up in his arms, towel pressuring the wound on your stomach.
"No, no, no" Mournful voices were surrounding your frame. "No this can't be happening. Please Y/N!" Tears, not yours, dripped onto your skin as something red mixed with it to create a pretty little cocktail. "Fuck princess wake up! Fuck no....."
2: Just a little bit colder
"Well well well, Mrs Yoon. How are the children?" Your mother cowered in fear as your elder sister and your dad were tied up next to the fridge in the kitchen. Your twin brother and you were in the clutches of some buff looking men. Eleven years. That's all you were. Eleven fucking years. "Mr. Wang I promise I won't leak the papers. I swear on my children. Please do not harm us." Mr. Wang or whoever he was striding up and down the carpeted room, white papers in his scarred hand. "It's ok Y/Nnie. I'm right here. It's just another November. September will come soon won't it?" Your brother, Doowon tightly held your hand and calmed you down, as your tears threatened to escape from their prison. "Mr. Wang. Please I beg you. Please do not harm me. You have the papers. What more do you want?" Mr Wang smiled at your mother. A cold smile. Shivering and undaunted. "Oh my dear Danbi. I have the papers of course, but you know how I do my work. I do not like bitches who butt their heads into everything. So I want your children to see how their mother is a little bitch." Mr Wang pulled your mother's hair as she screamed and cried out. "Hey don't do that to my mom!" Your borther screamed out as you but the hand if the man who was holding you. Both of you escaped from the clutches of the two men as Mr Wang looked on, slightly amused. "Or what little boy? You gonna beat me up?" Your brother stood his ground, not even daring to break eye contact. "Doowon get back please!" Your mum pleaded with Doowon, but he wouldn't listen. He stepped forward to Mr Wang and stepped painfully on his smooth black shoes. Mr Wang let out a cold laugh as he grabbed your brother by the neck of his shirt. "Grab the little girl too. Let her see how her twin meets with death." A man grabbed you from behind as your family pleaded and you thrashed around, trying to escape. "Let me go!" You screamed as the man took you upstairs while Mr Wang followed with your brother. You reached your bedroom door, which you shared with Doowon and Mr Wang slammed it opened pushing you and your brother inside. "Open that window, Brian." He spat at the man who grabbed you, while you and Doowon stood still. "Now boy. Come here. Come. Here. Now. Unless you want your sister harmed." Doowon looked at you and squeezed your hand before going ever to Mr Wang. And that was the last touch of your brother you had, before Mr. Wang pushed him out of the window on to the green grass below. Your screams had filled the neighborhood, scared the Magpies and threatened September to never come again. September's child,you told yourself. That's all he was. September's child, at the mercy of October.
"She'll be alright Minho. Just give her a few hours. She'll wake up." You were lying on an oak bed with grand purple bedsheets. You had a white sheet wrapped around your waist and your stomach, which stopped blood from coming out of your stab wound. Minho had taken you to his mansion outside of town, where all the sons of the mafias of Korea would hang out. Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Minho's brother Lee Felix Yongbok, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin and Lee Minho. Stray kids, they called themselves. Basically abandoned by their workaholic parents and brought up by relatives. "Hyung she'll be fine don't worry. Seungmin's aunt is the best surgeon in the country. She stitched Y/N up all fine." Changbin put an arm on Minho's shivering shoulder. Chan and Jisung were also there in the room, trying to comfort Minho and convince him that you would be fine. "What if she's not ok hyung? What do I tell her when she wakes up? Ho-how do I explain to her how I knew that her parents' bodies would be lying in her floor before she even got home? How do I fucking explain that?" Minho looked up at Chan with teary eyes. Chan was worried. Minho hadn't eaten or drunk water for the whole day, ever since you came out of that four hour long surgery. Never before had he seen Minho's cold face so filled with emotion. "Minho listen to me. You can explain everything to her once she wakes up. I called her sister and she'll be coming over in three days from Busan. Now please. You've got to eat something or drink water atleast. I promise you, Y/N will understand if you speak to her properly. Now come on, let's get some breakfast. It's 8 am in the morning. The boys would have woken up by now." Minho listened silently to Chan's words and simply nodded. Words weren't coming out anymore as he slowly got up from his chair and let go of your hand. Taking one last look at you, the boys left the room, all the while commanding two bodyguards to stand outside the door, making sure no one else can even come near you.
"Y/Nnie! Look what I can do!" "That wasn't a proper cartwheel Doowon, it doesn't count!" "Atleast I can do a cartwheel." "Yah don't stick your tongue out at me! Jinhee unnie! Doowon's making fun of me!"
'Do you remember? Twenty first night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders.' "Happy birthday Doowon! I got a CD of your favourite song!" "Thanks Y/Nnie. Let's listen to this song on my birthday every year!"
Purple sheets? This was not your bed. Your bed had dinosaur sheets and made a rickety noise every time you moved. You noticed the white tape wrapped carefully around your waist and dared not touch it. You tried to remember what day it was and where you were as you slowly moved and leaned comfortably against the bed frame, groaning slightly as your stomach was hurting. Gosh what day was it? Was it still September? Or did October come to take you away again?
Lost in your thoughts, you looked around the room, trying to figure out whether you were still in Jeju Island or not. You noticed a drawer close to the bed. Curious, you opened the drawer, to find your phone, a bracelet and a picture of a you and Minho in your jerseys. That bracelet. It was the one which your brother had made for you. Which you hadn't seen ever since that day. And the picture was the one which was taken when you and Minho were elected captains of your basketball teams. You grabbed your phone hurriedly as you realised that this had to be Minho's house. You had to get out. Now. Your memory was coming back to you and you remembered the events that had unfolded the night before. Blood. The smell of iron. The blade of a knife. The tears of a plum brown haired boy.
You threw the sheets off of yourself and made to get up. Stupid decision, you told yourself as the moment your feet hit the floor, you fell down witha loud thud. "OUCH!" you cried out loudly, hoping that this was a soundproof house. Probably not, because five seconds later, you heard footsteps coming down to your door. The oak door swung open with a loud crash to reveal a panic stricken Minho, who had dark circles under his eyes, a worried looking Chan, who was clutching a half finished piece of toast and a very confused Seungmin, who was holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "I knew I shouldn't have left your clumsy ass alone." Minho grumbled as he made his way to you and gently lifted you up, taking care not to touch your injury. You should have probably thrashed around, but for the sake of not accidentally injuring yourself even more, you resisted, as Minho put you back on the head and flicked your forehead painfully. "Yah!" You exclaimed rubbing your forehead. "Ok first of all, where the fuck am I? Second of all, what the fuck am I doing here? Third of all, I know my parents are dead now, so what I am going to do?" You directed the last question at Chan, who scratched his hair and glanced at Seungmin, who was looking at you as if you were his hero. "You know noona, you can come stay with me if you don't wanna stay in Minho's hyung's house." Minho glared at Seungmin as Chan took him by the arm and forced him out of the room, before saying "Minho explain everything. And no I will not help you stop pouting." He slammed the door, leaving Minho and you all alone. All alone in this wood carved room. All alone to face September together. "Alright" Minho took in a deep breath. "Im going to explain everything to you princess. But you will not fucking interrupt me, got it?" You opened your mouth to fire something back at him, but you decided against it in the last moment and quietly nodded. "Alright here goes. First of all I am really sorry for bringing up your brother. I know it was an asshole move and I thought you'd have forgotten about it. Clearly you didn't so I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Second of all, yes your parents are dead. Im sorry Y/N but they are. We informed your sister, she'll come in a few days from Busan. And the reason I knew that your parents were dead and tried to stop you was because my cousin killed your parents." Pause button. Wait what?
"Minho what are you talking about? If this is some kind of joke I will seriously kill myself right here and right now." Minho looked at you with an expression of pure sympathy. "It's not a joke Y/N. You know your mom is the head of the Jeju Island branch of Chan's parents' buisness right? Well all our businesses are connected. And one day when you were a child, your mother had found some papers which proved that my family was in illegal work. My family was ready to forgive her but my cousin, Jackson, wasn't. All those papers were related to his dealings and he wasn't happy that a mere woman had found out about it. So one day, without my parent's knowledge, he found out about your family and well. I think you know the rest don't you?" Too many things. Too many things for your brain to process as it went back to that night. Mr Wang. Jackson Wang. Pretty name, you thought, as you tried to bring his face back to your memory. Scarred. That's all you remembered. Scarred face, scarred mouth, scarred hands grabbing your brother by the cuffs on his shirt. "Chan had found out first. You know him having contacts and all. And when he told me about it, there was this thing inside of me that told me that your parents were probably already dead. I know my cousin pretty well. And he isn't one for patience." "But what did my mom do now?" Minho sighed at your question. "She, she found out some more information about Jackson and she decided to step up. But we all know what happens to heroes don't we?" Your breathing had gotten more steady now and your hands had stopped shaking. Sadness wasn't arriving for you. Not yet. Was it September? Or was it because you never actually knew your mother and father? Because thinking about it, you actually never did.
"Y/N I think it's time to tell you what my parents actually do. What all the boy's parents actually do. We run an underground syndicate over the whole of South Korea. We own every piece of land in Korea. We have information about every person existing in this country. And I want to tell you that your mom was actually one of the most important people for our 'buisness'. She wasn't just some head of the Jeju Island branch. She was a personal spy for my father and mother, put here along with your dad, to spy against, uh, some people." Your head hurt even more with all the information that Minho was unloading on you. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples gently. Minho looked slightly worried at this and nervously asked, "You ok princess? Want some breakfast?" Oh gosh his lips. "Or a doctor? You know what I'll get a doctor. Chan hyung will say no-" Those lips looked so kissable" "- but what if you don't feel well later on a faint and then you become even more sick-" Don't kiss him Y/N don't you dare. "-and then I'll have to marry you and take care of you foreve-"
Yep you couldn't keep it to yourself anymore. "I wanna kiss you." You blurted out, instantly cringing and regretting your words and Minho turned his head towards you, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in surprise. "This is adream right? Oh shit I had too much coffee." You were surprised at his words. Wait did he dream of this in a regular basis or what? Or were in you in a coma and this was all in your head? You slightly moved in the bed and as your stomach slightly hurt, you thought, yes definetly not a coma. "Or you could just get me some breakfast? Im hungry and in pain right now." "O-oh yeah I'll just tell t-the guys to get you some. K cool bye Y/N! See you later definetly don't wanna kiss you haha bye!" You were in a state of euphoria as Minho left the room, a blushing mess. Did you just make the Lee Minho blush and stutter? Oh you could jump in joy right now. Well if you could jump. Was this wrong, you thought. Not feeling sad even though your parents had just died? Or were you too familiar with sadness, that meeting her wasn't a big deal anymore?
The door opened again after fifteen minutes to reveal a blonde- haired boy with the most prettiest eyes you've ever seen, carrying a breakfast tray, followed by a taller long haired boy, who looked like he came straight out of those anime comics you read. "Hey noona! Here's some breakfast! Are you feeling better now?" The blonde haired boy, who had a very deep voice, said in a cheery tone. You considered asking him if he was a pixie or an angel because God did he emit that vibe. That positive vibe that just made you wanna pick some flowers and braid them in someone's hair. "Oh hello there. Um thank you for the food. Im sorry if it was of any inconvenience to you." This time, the long haired boy responded instead, saying "Oh no Noona it's fine. Minho hyung would kill us, well specifically me, if, according to his words 'you felt any discomfort', so please eat up. Im Hyunjin by the way and this is Felix." "Im Y/N. Yoon Y/N. But I'm guessing you already knew that?"
"Well of course we know about you. Minho hyung doesn't stop talking to me about you." Jisung had just appeared at the door, dressed in a leather jacket with leather pants, making him look like a biker. "He literally talked to me about your favourite ice cream flavour for five house noona I'm not joking. So please would you tell him you like or something so that I can get out of this hellhole of listening to him?" You were slightly taken aback by Jisung's words and as he plopped and deflated onto the purple couch, you looked at him with a curious expression, "Oh I'm Jisung by the way. Minho's amazingly talented best friend." You heard Hyunjin mutter something along the lines of 'he forgot to add annoying'. "Um I have a lot questions that Minho didn't properly answer. May I ask them,if you don't mind?" You directed this question at Felix, who looked ecstatic at the thought of answering questions, as Hyunjin pulled up two chairs. "Yeah of course Noona! My brother is really vague so please forgive him for that." You smiled at Felix's words about Minho. "Ok first of all where are we right now?" "We're in the outskirts of Jeju Island. This is Minho's hyung's mansion. Well technically our mansion, but my parents are the ones who own it. It's really old and no one cares about it. So we carry out our, er, operations here." Seeing Felix say all that was like seeing a chick with a knife. "So do all of you have like different jobs here? Like in the books and movies?" Hyunjin chuckled at that. "Minho hyung told us you liked suspense literature. Well to answer your question, yes we do have different jobs here. Chan hyung is kind of like our leader. He basically gives all the contacts and manages our profile and connections. You know all the administration shit. Changbin hyung and this idiot over here-" He gestured towards Jisung who gasped dramatically, "-they are our muscle and also so the money work. Lix over here does all the hacking work since his parents trained him and also since he's obsessed with gaming." Felix turned red at that, "Seungmin and Jeongin are our snipers. They are really young but I mean none of us really had an actual childhood. I run the interrogation work. And Minho hyung basically does everything. He doesn't really have a designated position." The way Hyunjin said all of that in the most casual tone weirded you out. He talked as if he was talking about morning coffee, as if it completely normal and nothing suspicious. You smiled awkwardly at Hyunjin who simply stared out the window at the sunlight. "Are all of you so gorgeous over here?" You blurted out, to which Jisung choked on his own saliva, Felix blushed pink and Hyunjin blinked multiple times. "I mean unless you count Jisung out, then yeah all of us are really pretty." You laughed at Hyunjin's statement to which Jisung looked like a furious squirrel.
"Yah Yongbok, Hyunjin are you coming down?" You heard Minho shout from below. "Oh gotta go. Anyways it was nice talking to you noona! I think Minho hyung called the doctor to come in the evening, so you should probably rest up until then. Oh and-" Felix paused for a moment and pulled out a sketchpad from nowhere. "Don't tell Minho I have you this. He told me you like to draw so I sneaked this in here." With that, all of them left you in the room, with a sketchpad, your phone and September's tunes.
You wiled away the hours by drawing the room around you. You tried to draw Hyunjin, Felix, Jisung and Chan too. The house was quiet apart from the voices of whom you assumed was Jeongin and Seungmin talking very loudly. But something was distracting you. That bracelet. The bracelet lying on the bedside drawer. You knew that bracelet very well. It was the bracelet which Doowon had made for you when you were eight or so. And you hadn't ever seen it ever since that night. So what was it doing here? Minho had told you that his cousin and his family don't talk at all, so how was this bracelet here? Was Minho lying? No he wouldn't do that. Yes mortal enemy things but you didn't think this man would be crazy enough to kill. You picked up the bracelet and twirled it in your hands. It was pretty, with gold lining the thing.
You noticed something on one of the biggest pink beads of the bracelet. The bead was... Open? It had a line tracing it as if it was a Pokemon ball, ready to split at any moment to reveal your Pokemon. Curious, you dig your nails into it to open it up. After a few minutes of difficulty (and you almost giving up), you managed to open the ball up. Inside was a tiny piece of folded paper. It was so tiny indeed, that you wondered how someone had managed to fold it. You dug the paper out and unfolded its many layers of folds. This definetly wasn't there when your brother had so lovingly made it for you. The paper was faded, but still looked relatively new. There were some words on it typed out in red, black and blue. The words:.
Yoon Doowon
Birth: September 21, 2005 (Age: Unknown)
Job: Hitman, Ally, Possible heir
Status: Alive
3: Take the weight off his shoulders
'Do you remember 22st night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders all while dancing the night away."
"God boss can you turn that off? It's been playing for an hour now." A stout man, dressed in tight black clothes, which fitted his muscles was sitting spread eagle on a nice blue cushion chair. Sitting in front of him on a much more bigger chair, was a man dressed elaborately in a white mink stole, a pristine white suit, with rings of all colours adorning his fingers, and a big black brooch on a golden chain stuck to his suit. "I won't turn it off until the chorus Brian. You know I love this song don't you? And you shall listen to it until your ears bleed out." Brian groaned and leaned back in his chair. "When is Mr Wang coming?" The man asked Brian. "It's possible he'll be arriving in a few minutes sir. But don't worry. I have intel that he got the job done well and good." "And the little rat? What about her?" Brian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well she might have gotten away. Lee's gang was there." The man threw his long hair back and threw off the stole, a frown and a red scar decorating his handsome face.
They were in a large room, an office, but it looked more like a King's throne room, where there were chairs for the ministers and wine glasses all decked with pink fluid. There was no door, but a few handing blue beads, which tinkled every now and then. "How could she have gotten away? Who did you send to kill them?" "I sent our best assassin sir." The man scoffed. "Well, clearly he wasn't the best. Does he have family?" Brian nodded in response to the question. "Good. Kill them." "Of course sir."
The blue beads tinkled as a heavily scarred man came into the room along with two bodyguards. "Mr Wang." The white draped man bowed deeply to Jackson who bowed back, only a bit. "Well well well Doowon. You did good. Your parents are dead. This deserves a toast. Shall we?" Doowon smirked at the man and got a green bottle from underneath the table. "Only the finest whiskey for you Mr Wang." Jackson chuckled coldly, taking a glass from the table and extending it forward to Doowon. "But-" Doowon said as he slowly uncorked the bottle. "I do not wish for your bodyguards to be here. You know how the Lee Family works? Even the most trusted allies can turn into back stabbers when their money is involved. " If Jackson Wang was startled, he didn't show it on his face. Instead he motioned for his guards to leave the room, who followed suit, although with a little uncertainty. Brian also left the room, leaving the two scarred men alone.
"Well then a toast. To me and you. Buisness partners." Doowon raised his glass in unison with Jackson, who drank up the whiskey quickly. "Mr Wang I have something to tell you." Jackson looked up at the younger man and waved his hand as if to say 'go on'. "First of all I just want to thank you for taking me in that night, when everyone thought I was dead. You were so ever so good with your observations to notice that I was only playing dead. And then you trained me and everything so thank you for that. And for telling me the truth about everything." Jackson simply nodded. He felt a sharp jab in his stomach and his head started to stir. Doowon was going out of focus now and in what seemed like a split second, Jackson Wang rolled off of the chair, onto the floor. Dead. "But I wanted to tell you sir." Doowon spoke to the limp body on the floor. "That I would like to take over by myself now. You're getting too old and I don't want you to interfere in my personal matters."
"How do you feel now Y/N? Better?" A pretty older woman was checking up on you. She wore a doctor's coat with the nametag 'Dr Kim' on it. She was Seungmin's aunt, the surgeon who had saved your life. "Well the pain has subsided a bit Dr.Kim. I still feel a bit dizzy every time I move, but I think I'm good now." Dr Kim warmly smiled at you as she checked your heartbeat. "Well in any case, I think you'll be fine by tomorrow. You can even walk around tomorrow if you like. But for now, just get some more sleep. I'll tell Minho and the boys not to disturb you alright?" Dr Kim gently squeezed your hand and packed up her equipment. She spoke to you as if you were her own child, with such delicate words and a comforting voice, something that your mother never gave you. "Um Dr Kim? Could you ask Minho to come up here please? If you don't mind?" "Of course honey! I'll ask him. Take care now." She gently kissed your forehead and went out the door.
"You wanted to see me?" Minho was dressed in a blue shirt, slightly open at the top and white pants. He looked so.... refined. And hot, exactly like a K drama CEO. God damn he looked delicious. Don't lick your lips. Do not lick your fucking lips Y/N. "Yeah I have some questions." Minho groaned as he shut the door and came forward to sit on the bed. "What now?" "Where did you get this bracelet?" You held up the bracelet to Minho, who looked at you, perplexed. "That's my bracelet, for your information. My mother gifted it to me. It's been in my family for centuries." Wait what now? "Minho stop fucking lying would you? My brother gave me this as a surprise gift when I was ten. And it went missing ever since the day he fucking died! So could you please tell me where the fuck you got this? Or I'm getting out of this bed and asking Chan." "Woah there princess." Minho looked at you, worried at your outburst. "Alright don't get out of bed please. I don't want you bleeding out and dying. But I'm telling the truth. This is the bracelet my mother gave me when I was twelve. It's been passed on from generation to generation in the Lee Family. It's a special bracelet, because it has these tiny chits inside the beads, telling the person who opens it who the next leader of, well, underground South Korea is going to be."
Too much information again. Number one, you could not stop staring at Minho's pretty pink lips. Number two, why did the chit inside the bead have your brother's name? And why did it say that he was alive?" "Wh-who puts the chits inside of this?" You asked Minho, carefully hiding the chit inside of your hand. "Well my uncle Wang dies. Jackson's dad. His great great great grandpa was the one who made this bracelet. So he has the right to choose the heir." "Minho I think you need to see this." You handed Minho the faded chit. He looked at it for a solid fifteen seconds before looking at you, blinking rapidly, just like how he does whenever someone surprises him. "Y/N oh fuck. Shit come on get up. Quick. I'll help you." "Wait Minho what? What happened?" You asked Minho as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, supporting you as you slowly got out the bed, and onto your legs. "Y/N we need to get to a safer place. If- if what this chit says is true, you're in more danger than I thought." "Wait Minho stop. Would you stop for a moment? Minho- Lee Minho!" You shouted his name, which made him stop in his tracks, arms still supporting your waist, even though you could still walk fine. "Would you please explain to me what's going on?" "Come down to the hall." Minho sighed and told you. "The boys, except Chan hyung, don't know either. So I can tell them and you at the same time. It'll be easier won't it?"
You nodded, not saying anything. Your mouth was dry and words were not escaping it. Gosh September was meant to be good. Why was it so full of surprises?
"Yah Minho Hyung! Auntie told noona can't get up until tomorrow." Seungmin said to Minho as both of you cam doen the stairs. All of the boys were pin the living room, immersed in their own work. Seungmin and Jeongin were playing chess and Chan was on his laptop as usual. "Chan hyung. I think I've figured out who the Mink Thief is." Chan's head snapped from his laptop to Minho so fast, that you swore you heard a cracking sound. The other boys' attention was also now on Minho. "Are you joking or are you actually telling the truth right now?" Minho smiled at Chan's words and set you down on the couch next to Changbin gently. "No I am not joking. Look at this." He handed Chan the bracelet and the chit, which Chan twirled in his gorgeous fingers, all the while looking at it as if it was some alien substance. "Oh fucking hell. Not him?" Minho nodded at Chan's exasperated words as Chan slumped in his chair, setting his laptop down on the table. "Can anyone explain what's going on please? Minho hyung?" Felix asked. "Alright bitches-" "language Minho" "Hyung stop being so old. Alright bitches listen up. So first of all let me introduce you to a man named Yoon Doowon, also known to us as The Mink Thief, who has been sending our families threats for a long time, also know to Y/N as her dead brother." "Yah! Rude!" "Anyways, one thing that Chan hyung found out a few days ago is that The Mink Thief has been in contact with my cousin, Jackson, ever since the day of Y/N's brother's murder. Also Y/N," he paused at looked into your eyes. "Whatever I'm about to say next will probably shock you so please don't faint out of surprise." You looked at Minho with the best offended eyes you could.
Minho then continued in a much more serious voice, "Yoon Danbi, Y/N's mom has been a spy for my family ever since I was born. Her and her husband had been placed here in Jeju Island along with their only daughter Yoon Jinhee, for an important mission. But soon, people grew suspicious of how both of them would act all the time, leaving their daughter alone for such long periods of time, coming home late at deadly hours and blah blah blah. So, in order to make their family seem much more 'normal', they took in two children. Choi Doowon and Jeon Y/N." "Minho what the fuck are you saying right now." Why were there so many surprises? Was your entire life a lie? Were you adopted for some stupid mission or something? What kind of Marvel shit was this? "Yeah this is why I said, don't faint out of shock." Minho slightly chuckled as Chan looked at repramandingly. "Look yes it's true your parents aren't your real parents. But the thing is your didn't even have parents. You came straight from the orphanage. So when my family took one look at you, someone with no background information which can be traced, they thought you were perfect for this mission. I mean, think of it Y/N, haven't you ever saw your parents hiding any documents from you or getting afraid when you asked for your birth certificate whenever you needed to register for your basketball games?" Yes, when you thought about it, they did do that.
"Hyung don't you think you should have had this conversation somewhere more private?" Felix looked from your distraught face to Minho's. "We probably should have but I have shit to tell all of you too." Minho said to his younger brother. "When Doowon supposedly died that night, Jackson Wang got a new partner in crime. Doowon was probably still alive. I know that no one can survive a fall like that, but I seriously don't know how he survived. So what I'm assuming from this tiny chit here, is that Jackson probably told Doowon the truth about his true parentage and all, and then like a basic villain, Doowon wanted revenge and now Y/N's life is basically a fantasy novel." "Ain't that right?" You scoffed. "My entire fucking life is a lie. I mean is my name even Y/N? Are we just living in a hallucination? What if all humanity is meant to do is just live our boring lives until a giant space turtle comes along and kills us all?" "That would be a cool way to die." Jisung said, not even a bit surprised by your rambling. "Jisung." Chan looked at Jisung with a glare. "Alright listen up everybody. Now that the sad backstory is out the way, we need to get down to buisness. First of all we need to get Y/N somewhere safe. Well safer. So Y/N, would you be willing to go along with Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin?" You nodded at Chan, who looked very relieved. "Great. Felix, Hyunjin, would both of you search out if Vernon's mansion is still protected and everything? " Felix and Hyunjin replied 'yes' to Chan and quickly went out the room. "Um noona we should get going. Can you walk by yourself?" Seungmin stood up and extended a hand to you, which you gratefully took and got up. "Yeah I can walk don't worry. Um where are we going?" Seungmin smiled at you, revealing his braces. "Don't worry about that. Just follow me to the car."
Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting in the back of a Bentley with Jisung, with Seungmin driving and Jeongin stared out the window, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. "You're lucky Minho hyung gave us his car noona." Jisung commented. "He never even lets us touch it. But then again, we're with you, so I guess that makes up for it." You looked at Jisung's wavy hair and thought to yourself that how can a sweet boy like him, be Minho's best friend. "Jisung, when you said Minho doesn't stop talking about me to you guys, what exactly does he talk about?" "Oh noona I could write an entire seven book Series about that " Seungmin responded instead of Jisung. "He doesn't ever stop talking about what your favourite song is, or what you wore today or how your hair falls in such a perfect way. And when we tell him to just tell you that he is pathetically in love with you, he sulks and says that he would rather kill himself." Well that was certainly surprising. "Oh we're here." Jeongin said, as the car pulled up to a massive iron gate, which had the letters C, H and V on it. What it was guarding was a massive black mansion, which looked very much like a vampire's lair, covered in vines of ivy with a statue of bat hanging out in the big yard. "Chwe Hansol. Also known as Vernon. This is his mansion. He's a good friend of Chan Hyung's and he lets us use the mansion whenever we want. It's the safest place in Jeju Island so we'll be good here noona." Jisung told you, as you stepped out of the car. The mansion looked so ethereal and as you walked into the yard through the gate, you wondered if this was the mansion which was described in the story of the vampire Carmilla. You lived and breathed for that story and you were excited at the thought of hiding in a place which looked exactly like Carmilla's mansion, where she took the blood of her lover, weeping over her body, and complaining about her death.
The boys pushed open the big dual doors of the mansion with difficulty, but not before Jisung had entered a pass code on the tiny keyboard thing which was on the right side of the door. This was indeed Carmilla's mansion, you thought as you entered the big living room, which was decked from head to toe in gold and silver. There was a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling, along with busts of some vague looking people.
"Gosh this is so pretty." You said to Seungmin, who smiled and said "Wait till you see the ball room." You were about say 'theres a ball room here?' when suddenly the lights went out. "Ah fucking hell. Guys stay here with noona. I'll go and see what's wrong." You heard Jisung's voice. "I don't think you need to do that, my dear Mr.Han." you heard a cold voice, which didn't belong to any of the boys. "Who's ther-" Before Seungmin could finish his sentence, you felt a hit to your head, and you blacked out, before hearing Jisung shout, "Noona!"
"Y/Nnie. Wake up." Doowon said in a sing song voice. The boys were tightly tied up to the chairs, with cello tape around their mouths. You were also tied up to the big blue cushion chair, with Doowon, standing in front of you, wearing a red coat and that mink fur stole. He had three bodyguards with him, all buffer than Changbin, all carrying guns and all looking scary as fuck. "Y/N wake up you stupid bitch." Doowon slapped your face painfully, which made you slightly stir. "Hey don't do that she's injured!" Jisung shouted out, having managed to chew through his cello tape. Doowon looked at Jisung with a sarcastic smile and said nothing, while one of the bodyguards punched Jisung. "Doowon?" You had woken up and the surroundings were appearing more clearly now. Your stomach hurt so much and your brain was still fuzzy, except for your dead brother standing in front of you, smirking. "Oh hey Y/Nnie. You miss me?" He asked you in a cold voice you didn't recognise. Never September. This was not September's child standing in front of you. This wasn't September's child, who used to chase butterflies and gift you cute little stones, standing in front of you. "Doowon you're alive." You managed to cough out some words, along with a bit of blood. "Ahh yes I am. I assume your stupid boyfriend already told you what happened to me. So I'm going to skip over the part where I explain shit to you." He let out a cold laugh which made you flinch. "Doowon this isn't you. What are you doing?" You asked him, tears welling up in your eyes. "This isn't me? No Y/N this is me. I've been lied to my entire life and Jackson Wang told me the truth. He taught me the way to survive in our world. He's dead now by the way. Just like our 'parents'." "Doowon please. Stop this lunacy! Atleast let the boys go they haven't done anything wrong!" Doowon leaned down to your level and lifted your chin with his finger. You shivered at his cold touch. "Aww Y/N. Always so fucking innocent. Baby the boys are leverage. Soon the rest of the boys will be here and then after some introductions, I can finally rule all of South Korea." Your tears had escaped now as you looked over at the boys, who were knocked unconscious by the bodyguards. You felt like the most lowest human being on earth, when you looked at Jeongin's bleeding lip, wondering what Chan's reaction would be when he arrived here. "Brian! Go check if the doors are open please. I want them all to waltz in here and call for these pathetic boys. And then we'll hit them where they don't even know it hurts. Maybe we'll start with this one." He moved over to Jeongin. The man named Brian laughed and winked at Doowon. "I'll get the door sir." He moved out the room swiftly.
Fifteen minutes had passed. Fifteen silent minutes. This was silence which you did not enjoy. Silence was sweet in September, when only the Magpies chirped. But now, as you watched Jeongin and Seungmin slightly stir, silence became bitter. "Is Brian not coming? You!" Doowon shouted at one of the guards. "Go out and see where he is! Does it take this much time for the rascal to come back?" The guard obeyed and made to get up from his seat on a rickety wooden chair. BANG! A bullet shot went through the guards head, and as he slumped to the ground, with a pool of blood around his head, Doowon screamed and grabbed Jisung by his chin. "You! What have you done!" Jisung merely smirked at him as Doowon lay frozen there, staring at the body. "Oh for fucks sake what are both of you doing?" Doowon spat at the two remaining guards. "Go upstairs and check if the rats have entered the house already!" The guards nodded their heads fervently and went off in opposite directions, only to be met with two gunshots. The door burst open, as Minho and the remaining boys barged in.
"Doowon." Minho said coldly to Doowon, who merely smirked, trying to hide the fact that he had peed his pants a bit. "Well you found me didn't you? Good job Minho. You know Mr Wang told me how your family works. So I'm honoured that I'm actually getting to experience a member of the great Lee family trying to kill me." You were disgusted by his words. Where did your sweet Doowon go? Where did the boy whom you had cried for day and night go? "Let the boys and Y/N go. Now Doowon. And we won't have any consequences." Chan said to Doowon. He looked furious. You hadn't ever seen Chan like this. "Oh you can take the boys first and then I'll give you Y/N." Hearing that, Changbin and Hyunjin hurried forward, untied the boys, who were concious by now and supported them on their arms, as they carried them back to safety.
"Now Y/N's turn. Give her back to me Doowon and maybe you won't end up choking on your own blood tonight." Minho's voice made your heart go warm. He had nothing but cold fury in his voice. If you thought you had seen his anger on that one particular basketball match in Busan, you were mistaken.
"Now why would I do that? Sweet little Y/N is all ok tied up to his chair aren't you Y/Nnie?" He pulled your hair and kicked you hard in your stomach, which made you cough out blood. Yep, the stitches in your stomach had probably opened up. Fuck no, not now. Don't die in September. Let me wait for October. October seemed more comforting now. The Magpies had their babies in October. Im October, you could get boba on discount. In October, you could hand out with your friends whenever you want. In October, Minho would turn a year older. Wait how did you know that? Why was this room so fuzzy? Hey Minho's face. His beautiful face. It was going out of focus now. Good way to die isn't it. You hoped death came to you, wrapped in white silk and picked you up in her arms like a baby and put you in a cradle. A cradle painted orange and yellow. A cradle with Magpies on it. A cradle which loved all the months equally. But especially October. Especially October.
"Doowon, stop that! Stop fucking hurting her!" Minho screamed at Doowon. You were blacked out now and as Minho looked at your gently sleeping figure, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. "And what if I don't? What will you do oh great Lee Minho? I have her in my arms and I can do anything I wa-" That was the last thing Minho heard before all he saw was Doowon's dumb face, struck with shock, bullet hole in his big head, blood staining his already red suit and his stupid mentality finally gone from this world. "Good job Minho. Now come on let's get Y/N. Guys get Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin to the car. We'll get Y/N." Chan told the others, while Minho had already strode over to you. He hurriedly untied the ropes around your arms and legs and got you to his arms, fingers looking for your wrists, to check your pulse. Tears were coming out now. Tears he never knew would come for you. He loved you. So much. So much it was honestly pathetic. The way you scowled everytime you saw him, the way your eyes lit up whenever you got a high test score, the way you cherished December for your birthday, the way you existed. He loved everything about you. And he can't lose you. Not now. Not ever.
"Feeling good kitten?" You had woken up in Minho's house again, with Dr Kim checking your heartbeat and adjusting your blood pump. "Minho." You managed to breath out weakly, making Minho's heart drop again. He was quick to stand up and cup your face in his arms gently as tears poured out of your eyes. "Hey hey hey don't cry." He said so gently, in a tone which he never used with you. "No Y/N. Shh. I've got you. You're safe. You're safe." He hugged you gently, supporting your head with his hands as you silently sobbed into his shirt. Once you pulled away, you noticed that his shirt was wet from all the crying and that his eye bags were more prominent. "Im sorry. I'm so sorry Minho. I-I really didn't know about..... about him and I caused you all this trouble. I am so sorry." "Hey hey princess. Y/N listen to me." You looked into his eyes, which were twinkling into yours. "None of it is your fault. You hear me? None of it. If anything, I should have told you all that I know earlier but I couldn't. Because- because I- I love you Y/N." That was it. That's all it took. That's all it took, for your eyes to widen, your hands to reach up to his jaw and for your lips to meet his, in a slow dance accompanied by the melodies of the Magpies outside, celebrating that you two had finally realised your love for each other. You pulled away after what felt like a very short time, but you were running out of breath. Minho and you stared at each other for a while and then burst into giggles. "That felt nice princess. You sure you haven't kissed anyone before?" You slapped his chest playfully as you said "Yah! Don't make me think back about being your girlfriend Lee Minho." Minho's eyes lit up and he stuttered out "Girlfriend? Yep I'm in a dream someone pinch me." You rolled your eyes as you pinched him and he let out a tiny scream. "Oh stop so dramatic. How long was I out by the way? And are the boys alright?" "You were out for two days now kitten. And the boys are good. Jisung is saying he finally got his 'Wattpad best friend gets kidnapped moment' and I think Chan told Dr Kim to double his dosage of sleeping pills so now he's crashed out. And snoring loudly."
"Noona you're awake!" Felix had come into the room, well more like bounced into the room along with the rest of the boys, Seungmin sporting a cast, and Jeongin having a pink band-aid on his lip. Felix hugged you tightly while Chan hugged Minho. "Lix let her go. She needs to breath." Chan said to Felix, who had been hugging you for a long time now. "Seungmin, Jeongin are you guys ok now? I am literally so sorry." Jeongin smiled at you sweetly, his fox like eyes forming crescents and said, "We're good noona. Technically we should be asking you that question. And it's fine please don't apologise." He bowed a bit to you and as you tried to bow back, whilst sitting, Hyunjin said, to Minho "So hyung. Have you finally got your ass together and asked noona out?" Minho glared at Hyunjin as everyone else in the room laughed. "You will be getting your mouth stuffed tonight Hyunjin. And yes I have asked her out. And now she's my girlfriend." "Yah who said I was your girlfriend?" You jokingly said. "Ok I'm gonna ask Jisung out then." Minho said standing up.
Four years later
You had been living with Minho for four years now, as his live-in Girlfriend. He had introduced you to his parents, who had been nothing less that kind to you. They had first apologized profusely for the whole Doowon incident, to which you told them that you really didn't care. You had Minho with you and all of your past had slowly faded away.
And every year as October and September came, you learnt to cherish ,not the month, but the memories you made every day. You learnt to forever keep memories of you, your boyfriend, your friends and everyone around you. You learnt how to let go of grief easily.
And when Minho proposed to you, on the twenty first night of December, you learnt, you just needed someone a bit older, and a bit colder, to teach you what it meant to love a person like you'd love a month.
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I love the Howling Commandos so much, they’re so underrated if you ask me, especially the awesome dynamic they 100% had. I imagine all of them in very specific ways, some things are based off of fics I’ve read, some of it is just me.
Steve Rogers: Steve is the youngest of them all, he’s also the least experienced one and he hasn’t been part of the group nearly as long as the others considering he came into the picture after Kreischberg. He’s really fun to talk to and he’s as much of a little shit as the others are, being the leader of their group he’s in charge of tacking care of talking to superiors and shit, and he often ignores direct orders to do what he thinks is a better option, he also lets his team get away with things regular soldiers wouldn’t be allowed to do and they love him for it. He often gets yelled at by Bucky after doing stupid shit, the other Howlies often jokingly refer to him as “Dad” when it’s just them.
Bucky Barnes: Bucky has the others’ immense respect from the start, because he’s protective and caring as much as he hates to admit it. He is the only one who has negative amount of problems yelling at Steve after he did some stupid shit, he was the most scarred by Kreischberg but never lets it show. He loves music and always has a song stuck in his head and has fun pissing the others off by butchering the songs when it’s safe to be loud. He trusts Steve more than he probably should and goes with his plans, though he often forces him to modify them and cut down the crap. His protectiveness and strictness when Steve’s being a dumbass gets the others to nickname him “Mom” when they’re in private. He ‘hates’ it.
Dum Dum Dugan: Dum Dum was Bucky’s closest friend after Steve, he has a stupid sense of humor and says way too many dad jokes than is good for his teammates’ mental health. He’s always the first to jump at the opportunity to get his hands on some alcohol (no one complains about that) and he and Jim are the primary clowns of the group. He loves to tease the others, especially “Mom” and “Dad”.
Jim Morita: Jim is the one in charge of their immediate medical problems and small tech involved stuff, like Dugan, he has a shit sense of humor and they often get into battles of who can out dad-joke the other.
Gabe Jones: like Dum Dum, Gabe has known Bucky since before Azzano, and is the one in charge of languages, he speaks French and German more fluently than the others do and in the beginning he was usually in charge of dealing with Jacques’ bullshit.
Monty Falsworth: Monty is the only official member of the Howlies who isn’t broke (he is often teased about it). He could be considered the most sane of the Howlies (though not by far) he is the most experienced of the group to talk about strategy and often helps Steve and helps Bucky knock some reason into the little shit. They like to tease him for living up to every British stereotype and is often asked to ‘translate’ what Peggy says. He has a sister named Jaqueline who is a spy for the SOE.
Jacques Dernier: Jacques was a member of the French resistance, he’s from Marseille and is fully fluent in English but refuses to speak it. He understands everything the others tell him but speaks to them in French and lets them deal with it, after over a year of dealing with him all of the Howlies are more or less fluent in French. They call him a fucking pyromaniac because of his love of explosives and his talent with them. He also has a shit sense of humor that rivals with Dum Dum and Jim and is probably the most batshit crazy member of the team (though the others are pretty close behind him).
Howard Stark is considered an honorary member of the Howlies idc about any contradiction: rule n°1 when it comes to Howard Stark; don’t leave him alone with Jacques Dernier. They will set something on fire or worse. He and Monty are often laughed at for having money and they tease back by talking about rich people problems in front of the others. He is called a lot of names by the Howlies such as things like “Gadget”, “Engineer”, “Civilian”, “Civy” and things among those lines making fun of him not technically being a part of the military. He is involved in a lot of the Howlies’ inside jokes including the “Mom” and “Dad” thing.
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zombyjuice · 4 months
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EWW ! ヽ( ・∀・)ノ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ wonbin
pt1 pt2
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an “enemies” to lovers fic
In which ! — you thought he was an idiot and it turns out he's is! but maybe, just maybe he’s your idiot. song inspo. a b c
pairing ! — wonbin x fem!reader. (mentions of beomgyu txt minji nwjns taesan and leehan bnd seunghan riize duh!)
warnings ! — on and off friends to “enemies”, the little faces are kinda like the reactions lol lol, minors cussing a little tiny bit, pt1!
“seriously? wonbin ha! no! gross-
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(๑´ㅂ`๑)
— eww!!” you nervously shake your head and laugh out loud, grin a little too big.
(゜-゜) (´・_・`) (人´∀`*)
“you… you like wonbin! oh my gosh!” “y/n likes Wonbin! Y/n likes won-!” Hand slamming on beomgyus face, frantically looking around the quiet halls “what are you? twelve? stop that!”
“Okay so maybe we kissed… what! don’t look like that…” “thought you hated him… ugh! wonnie... eww!” he mocked “ugh!”
oct 31, 2013.
After a long day of fake smiles and “thank you’s!” to strangers that don’t even know you, girls coming up to you and asking to come to your birthday party and just desperate glares a pleas, you come home hair mangled and sweaty ready to lay down.
The living room was extremely silent it was deafening, the room was so dark you thought you were blind for a second and nobody was in sight, feeling conflicted your small body reaches up to flick the lights on.
(・・。)ゞ
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” — “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!~” — “Oh my gosh beomgyu you do too much!” — “Yah! Boys! it's y/ns day, not yours!”
!…(⊙_⊙)…. (*>﹏<*)
“Are you crying??” “pfft” “Don’t laugh beomgyu” a small donghyun huffs “I’m sorry!! cmere here y/n”
Your mom said last birthday that was your last birthday party since you never smiled at the camera when it was time for pictures she never understood why, you neither so you agreed, it was silly, but you took it seriously not accepting… well this. Your mom, twin brother donghyun, your older brother beomgyu, and your two best friends minji and dongmin all up and around your prettily decorated table with your favorite cake and 8 candles.
You fall into your families embraces and hug tightly back “such an ugly crier” beomgyu mumbled, making you stab him in the rib with your elbow “ow…”
You guys all laugh and enjoyed your self’s, you were happy it was small and no forced pictures and no loud noises you loved it!
You, your twin, and your two best friends, all in the same grade, and all one friend group beomgyu three grades above you. So he barely hung out with you guys all together. So that night you dragged your friends to your room and turned on some horror movies your mom definitely would not allow.
Usually on Saturday nights like this Beomgyu brings his friends over to sleep over— soobin and taehyun— and soobin thought it’d be a good idea to bring his younger sibling—Seunghan— and his best friend— wonbin. To your home. To sleep in your home.
Our school grade heartthrobs along with your brother Donghyun. You didn’t know them all that well and to say you were unhappy with their presence ruining the night is an understatement.
“no boys allowed sorry” You peak through the door crack and give a light smile eyes shifting towards Wonbin.
(*´ー`)
“uh, those are boys…” Seunghan huffed
“yeah but there our boys”
Seunghan was known to be quite an a-hole but a “sweet” one at least just wanting to be your friend but that’s how he shows it, which is weird. and you just stayed out of his way, you also being quite popular cause of your dad and your brothers, you didn’t take popularity too seriously only worried about your real friends but also did not want to be socially rejected because Seunghan and his minion Wonbin decided to clown on you. Wonbin was the quiet one, most people thought he was the “cold” one but you saw right through his silly facade and just honestly having no comment. He was nice to look at though, they both were.
“Hey, Wonbin didn’t Beomgyu say that his sister is super chill sweet, and calm and shit,” your jaw drops wide and you let out a squeak “You cannot be cussing! Anyone can hear!” you whisper shouted “And- and I am! all.. of those things can you please leave now” Seunghan chuckled lightly mischievously smirking and pushing past you and the door entering your pink room SNSD posters all over the place. “hey! you can’t- you know this is an invasion of privacy!”
Minji and dongmin resorting to hiding under the covers giggling.
“Wow what big words” wonbin giggled and when his face turned to the tv.
( ⁰д⁰),、’`( ꒪Д꒪),、’`’`,、‘`( ꒪Д꒪),、
The gruesome scene taking him a back, let's just say there was definitely tears, screams lots of scurry’s, and a couple of boys needing to go home.
He chuckled along but only because Seunghan was but telling from those glares he gave you definitely didn’t think it was funny.
Before everyone could leave you gripped his wrist “Hey, sorry that happened, I was just wondering if you wouldn’t tell my mom? You know I could get in a lot of trouble, please.” he just had a silly smile on his face and stayed quiet, looking back at you as he— eerily— walked away eyes never leaving yours. What.
If he told your mom you're grounded and getting your TV token and no more friends over. Oh wonbin. Donghyun nods his head almost as if he could read your mind and you guys look at eachother frightened
“He's funny I like him!” “shut up beomgyu!”
The next day was frightening, almost as if he was trying to scare you the way you scared, him. Which may you add was not your fault.
You and your brother would be walking to dance class and boom, Wonbin wide eyed standing straight and not moving a bit, your heart falling out your butt.
“Oh my gosh! you scared me” you frowned he smirked eyes still wide, “I know…” he whispered “okay… um well we’re leaving to class now, bye?”Your brother said it as if a question. All that came from the boy was heavy breathes and you guys ran off heart thumping and you let out a little giggle from the adrenaline thinking the situation was quite silly.
after school
“wonbin told and mommy said we’re grounded” donghyun huffs sadly and throws himself on your bed. “gah! that’s idiot eww i hate him!” you stomped and sighed laying yourself right next to your brother.
and that marks the day of your very strange relationship with Park Wonbin.
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pyeonghongrie · 3 months
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champagne problems
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Summary: Sometimes you just don’t know the answer, until someone’s on their knees and asks you.
Characters/Pairing(s): San X Reader
Genre: Angst.
AUs/Trope info: Established relationship, marriage rejection, song fic
Word Count: 586
Warnings: Swearing, mental health mention, alcoholism mentions, sloppy POV changes
Rating: 16+
A/N: repost from my old blog @cryrieariver, I'm reuploading my own work, I did not plagiarize. This is also reformatted and edited for ease of reading.
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You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse
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San was slumped over on the train seat, elbows on his spread thighs and nails scratching at the velvet flocked box sitting on his fingers. He looked pathetic, sitting alone and dejected in an empty train car, trying to hold his tears back. He hung his head low, biting his lip until it bled. Who knew this would happen?
He didn’t like the bustle of the city, everyone only cared about the place they wanted to go to, not bothering to check the man that was clearly hurting.
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Because I dropped your hand while dancin' Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems
Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass I dropped it Champagne problems
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He replayed the moment in his mind, the way your grip on his hand faltered, the way you looked at him with glassy eyes when you told him you didn’t want to dance anymore. He should’ve known, should’ve taken it as a sign.
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You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating
Dom Pérignon you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems.
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He remembers telling his family about his plan to propose to you, he was so sure that you’ll be his future, his new chapter in life. His sister was just as excited as him, taking up all her savings just to get a bottle for the soon-to-be celebration.
When you rejected him, all his hometown skeptics told him it was never a good idea to marry a city girl. He thinks maybe he should’ve listened.
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You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems
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He remembers closing the box in silence, no cheers, no music, no words. He walked out of the restaurant with a blank face and a broken heart.
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Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush, and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"
How evergreen, our group of friends? Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through
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You knew you could trust him, he was the love of your life, he did everything for you, supported you through your episodes, and made you feel happy and loved. He was your shoulder to cry on and the sun to warm you. Nothing could replace him, but you let him go because you didn’t deserve him, he didn’t deserve someone like you- he deserved someone better.
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One for the money Two for the show I never was ready So I watch you go
Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "She would've made such a lovely bride What a shame she's fucked in the head"
They said, but you'll find the real thing instead She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing crestfallen on the landing
With champagne problems Your mom's ring in your pocket Her picture in your wallet You won't remember all my champagne problems
You won't remember all my champagne problems.
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Tags: @kwanisms, @yoonguurt, @shinestarhwaa, @stardragongalaxy, @wooyoungmybelovedhusband, @anyamaris, @dimpledsatan, @haosweater, @starlitmark, @seongwin, @midnxght-sky, @nebulousbookshelf, @piratequeen-queenofgames, @northerngalxy, @yourfatherlucifer, @twisted-tales-of-all, @seumiley, @pocketsky
Network Tags: @cultofdionysusnet, @wonderlandnet, @kflixnet
Strikethrough: cannot tag
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solverse · 9 months
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A carol for the souls. (ii)
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Quo; Give a character a song. (SAGAU)
Characters; Bennett, Fischl, Razor & Kaeya.
Notes; I really like the three as best friends and Kaeya is there as the responsible adult. This isn't a character study whatsoever, just a little self-indulgent fic.
Dics; Again, the intro is unbearably long because I can't seem to write one-shots under 1k words.
| (i) |
Ribs - Lorde
Bennett was having an amazing day! Not only that his bad luck had subsided a little for today, most of the unfortunate situations were him almost tripping over himself but gladly, his team was there to watch his back. Today was also one of the days when he was chosen by the Guide to go on an adventure. 
Ever since Bennett had become a 'chosen' one, he had the opportunity and pleasure to meet different kinds of people and see tons of new places. Since he was an adventurer since he could ever walk, Bennett knew Monstadt like the back of his hand.
But never would he think he'd get a chance to see other regions as well! Monstadt was his home, the place where he knew he could return to – that was the kind of beauty Monstadt was. But the other regions held such a different aura and magnificence that Benette couldn't explain in words alone. 
And what made all of that better was that he got to go with his friends. With Razor and Fischl, on their own very (miscellaneous) adventures around Tevyat! Razor and Fischl were his best friends and some of the best people he had ever known. Traveling with them to see different places, exploring, and fighting different bosses was a dream come true. 
Oh, there was also Kaeya! Brother Kaeya who had been appointed as the responsible adult of the group and Bennett appreciated that sentiment, knowing that someone like Kaeya was watching their back anytime, lest any of them get into a dangerous situation. 
On a simple day, they were traveling through the forest of Sumeru, after heeding the safety clause that a Forest Ranger had given them. Apparently, the ranger was someone Kaeya knew. Bennett had watched in fascination as the new green-haired girl groaned in embarrassment when she recognized the Cavalry Captain. Kaeya has a good time teasing her. 
It was when they arrived at the riverside that Bennett finally noticed the eerie silence starting to settle in. Kaeya was the first to notice, followed by Razor who seemed alarmed at the sudden change in atmosphere. It seemed that the occurring background music had disappeared. 
Bennett had known of this phenomenon, Barbara had told him about the random time when the Guide would start playing bizarre music. It happened to some 'chosen' ones, while some might go on their days never hearing this bizarre music.
Despite his bad luck and all, Bennett firmly believed that he has good eyes when it comes to people. It's just that Bennett sometimes overlooked his judgment so he could be friendly. But judging by his friends' reaction, only Fischl seemed experienced in this situation. 
Well, that was a given since out of all of them, Fischl was one of the original and earliest 'chosen' ones, other than the Traveler. She had the guidance of the Guide more than Bennett could wish for. But don't get him wrong! He's extremely happy that one of his best friends was favored by the Guide. 
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard an unfamiliar sound, building up in an echo. It sounded like it was directly next to him and yet all over him too. The sound was soothing in a way that Bennett couldn't explain. 
The drink you spilt all over me,
"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,
My mom and dad let me stay home,
It drives you crazy getting old,
Bennett almost jumped when the voice started singing before he calmed down. He felt embarrassed at the moment and couldn't focus on the song until a few seconds later. It was why he didn't quite catch the first few lyrics. 
We can talk it so good,
We can make it so divine,
We can talk it good,
How you wish it would be all the time,
Bennett frowned and crossed his arms, even though he was giving his utmost attention, he still couldn't decipher what the lyrics meant. The music sounded really nice, it made him tingle all over his body in a good way. 
The drink you spilt all over me,
"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,
My mom and dad let me stay home,
It drives you crazy getting old,
The drink you spilt all over me,
"Lover's Spit" left on repeat,
My mom and dad let me stay home,
It drives you crazy getting old,
The song repeated the lyrics again, as if giving Bennett another chance to find a meaning behind those words. But when he took a glance at Fischl, something was caught in his throat. Bennett had never seen that look on Fischl, one that told of memories and reminiscence. Without even knowing it, Bennett didn't realize how it was so different.  
This dream isn't feeling sweet,
We're reeling through the midnight streets,
And I've never felt more alone,
It feels so scary getting old,
In a way, Bennett could understand it a little. Since he was a kid, Bennett had always been the 'unlucky' or 'cursed' kid that everyone stayed away from. Because if you ever get near him, you will get hurt too. 
And that hurt a lot. Even as a child, hearing those words come from people who you wanted to know about, who you want to get along with, hurt a lot more than he wanted it to. Even now, Bennett couldn't bring it to ask himself if things got better now, as days passed by.
We can talk it so good,
We can make it so divine,
We can talk it good,
How you wish it would be all the time,
Looking back at all the stuff he had experienced, Bennett likes to say that they had built him into the person he is. A passionate adventure with a penchant for bad luck. It wasn't all that bad. Bennett likes to think that he was lucky in parts that others won't look at. 
After all, the Unlucky-Boy was able to meet two kids who were outcasted by what society deemed unorthodox. Looking back at it, Bennett will always be grateful that his path, his fate, had crossed with Fischl and Razor. 
He doesn't care much for the things others say about him, no matter how much it pained him to hear so. But Fischl and Razor was the best thing that happened to him, that's why Bennett wouldn't let anyone else say otherwise. Because of them, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. 
The days of adventure they went on for the past years stayed firm and locked deep within his heart. People like to talk, they like to say. Words are powerful. The words they spout can be such a tool that made Bennett feel useless in a broken shed. 
But actions are also powerful. Razor was raised by wolves his whole life, his speech manner was slower and shorter than others. Fischl had a lot of vocabulary, she spoke in a tongue-twisted manner that made anyone's head spin. 
But, but– despite all of that, their actions are all so powerful to Bennett. The hold, pats, hair brushing, or simple gestures were all so powerful. 
This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets,
And I've never felt more alone, feels so scary getting old,
Throughout Bennett's life, he learned that words can and will hurt sometimes. But even with that– actions can speak louder than words. So Bennett learned to not listen. He learned to see, to observe. 
Because if he listened, if he heard, it would hurt him. 
And Bennett thinks that it's endearing, amazing that Fischl and Razor showed their love with such simple actions.  And throughout their cages of ages, Bennett learned to appreciate those gestures more and more. 
And to realize that Bennett had never noticed any of that back then, it baffled him. But in a way, those little things– showed him something. Something that ached and warmed his heart. Something that made his eyes sting from the wave of sentiments crashing into him. 
This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets,
And I've never felt more alone, feels so scary getting old,
Bennett sees them and they see him. That's enough to make his heart twist in the sweetest way possible because now he knew. Along with all their time of adventures and exploring, Bennett finally saw it all. 
When he locked eyes with Razor's and then Fischl, Bennett didn't hide the giddy smile on his face. Razor looked confused at most, eyebrows furrowed while Fischl only deadpanned at him. And it's during those moments, Bennett saw it again. 
Razor's red eyes were darker and the slim gray of his hair had also turned darker through the years. It was longer than Bennett remembered, Razor's hair was by his waist now.
Fischl seemed taller, eyes shining with a glint that Bennett recently discovered after the Archipelago event. She stood steadier and a lot more confident, not afraid to break out of her character anymore. 
I want 'em back, I want 'em back,
The minds we had, the minds we had,
How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts,
Moved 'round our heads, moved 'round our heads,
I want 'em back, I want 'em back,
The minds we had, the minds we had,
It's not enough to feel the lack,
I want 'em back, I want 'em back, I want 'em,
It made Bennett a little sad as he listened to the lyrics, something echoing deep inside him as those words were sung. Truly, through his whole life, Bennett wondered if he could even experience it all again. 
It might have been a bit painful, a bit reckless. But Bennett still thought back to the moment his path had crossed with Razor and Fischl. To the day when the luckiest boy was born by two unknowing hands that held onto him through all the rocky rides and all. 
Something he held back with all his strength, never letting go. 
And beginning that, Bennett saw all those changes. 
You're the only friend I need (you're the only friend I need),
Sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids),
And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough),
Bennett's breath hitched at that. As his eyes roamed to see his friends, the music echoing next to him, Bennett could only stare. 
To this day, Bennett held the memories close and kept them deep within his heart, where no one would be able to take them away from him. Memories that kept him alive in moments when everything had gotten blurry for him to get through. 
But that will never be enough (but that will never be enough),
It won't. That won't ever be enough because Razor and Fischl meant the world to him. They were his world. Maybe, maybe it was selfish of him to think that way, to preserve these memories like a glass ball when changes were inevitable in their life.  
Growing up from the children they were once. Bennett wondered if he was any different from then. 
You're the only friend I need (you're the only friend I need),
Sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids),
And laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough),
But that will never be enough (but that will never be enough). 
Maybe it's selfish of him to want to stay with that innocence, where their ribs would hurt so much from laughing. Maybe it's selfish of him to stay in that mirage where the old days held him with a warmth that he couldn't explain as a child. 
But those won't be enough. It won't be enough for them. So Bennett thinks that maybe it was fine, perhaps it was okay for him to keep holding onto these memories because they built the person he was today. 
With Razor's calloused yet firm hand on his shoulder, Fischl's comforting voice echoing and Kaeya's hand brushing his hair, Bennett will cherish all of these moments. 
( He wondered if they knew. Maybe that's why some needed a little bit of guidance. ) 
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kitkatopinions · 1 month
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@kitestarry Thought I'd answer this comment in its own post. :)
Ghira and Kali are very much so stereotypical "Mom and Dad" characters imo, where Kali is kind of nosy and she's comforting and she's given that "no she can hit people with pans too" thing that people give Supermoms since like 2000 so they can say they're strong women without having to do any work, and Ghira is like overprotective and tells Blake she isn't wearing enough clothes and hates Sun because he's a boy who's interested in his daughter. And I don't like the stereotypical "Mom and Dad" characterization in any setting really, but since they're only featured in two seasons and are honestly not even sort of the focus of Blake's 4-5 arc (which is much more about her, Sun, and Ilia,) they're very paper thin characters I feel like. So there isn't much else to them. But on top of that, the RWBY writers do this thing where they'll make the teenage characters do dangerous stuff but do not care to write the "caring" parental figures in their life to actually do anything about it. Like, with Willow you can at least be like "well she's an alcoholic who had an abusive husband" which doesn't mean that her complete lack of presence until V7 and her lack of action in protecting her children is fine, but it makes more sense. And when then sixteen year old Ruby left home to go after Cinder and supposedly like a year later Tai still is completely not around, we could at least say "well, he knows she's with Qrow and he might not have known how serious everything was" which isn't a good excuse, but it's at least something. But, I believe Blake ran away from home five years before the start of the show, which means she was like twelve! And she ran away to be part of a group Ghira thought was dangerous and morally wrong (which is why he left in the first place.) Like, we don't know if Blake had a good place to stay for that whole time, if she ever went hungry, and the show fully tells us she was in a bad and unsafe relationship for part of it. And where were her parents? And then the Fall of Beacon happens after Blake is on TV during the Vytal Festival, and the whole thing just makes them feel like very uncaring bad parents. There's also Ghira's whole peaceful protest 'be nice to your oppressors and they might like you' 'we need to stop faunus violence' thing. Like many Faunus characters, Ghira's a mouthpiece for the severely badly handled fantasy racism plot. It's bad on Blake, but since she has a lot more character and role outside of that, it's easy enough to just clip it out for her for me. But because Ghira has been such a small role, it's a lot harder to dismiss for him. Like if you removed that sort of thing from Ghira's character, all that you'd have left is 'over-protective dad who doesn't care about finding his twelve year old runaway but will comment on her belly shirt when she comes home."
But also, I don't write for them to be honest. Writing for characters oftentimes makes me like them more because it helps me dive into the character concept more than the oftentimes lackluster execution. There are a lot of characters I didn't like that much, but then when I write for them, I find myself really enjoying them. But my sister and I first started writing for RWBY after volume six with a fanfiction that was an AU branch off starting at the end of V5. And the only fanfictions I've written either are branches off of that branch off or are Team STRQ era fics. So... Ghira and Kali aren't really part of things in my fics ever.
So yeah, it's a combination of them being thin stereotypical parents with very little interest to them, their apparent lack of care when their twelve year old ran away, and just never writing for them so they don't get the same treatment of me fleshing them out myself that other characters who are just as thin in canon might get that make me like them more.
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differenteagletragedy · 6 months
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Cove isn't the stepdad, he's the dad who stepped up: Part 4
A fourth part to my series in which Baxter gets MC pregnant before ghosting, MC gets with Cove and they get engaged but Baxter is the wedding planner and chaos ensues.
In this one, Baxter finally meets his Cove and MC's son.
The most recent part of this fic is here, with links to the previous stories. Also it will never not be ridiculous to me that I hate titling things so much that now I have a whole series titled "Cove isn't the stepdad, he's the dad who stepped up."
"CAKE DAY, CAKE DAY, CAKE DAY!"
Cove had Dylan riding on his back, his little arms wrapped around his neck. They were zooming around the house, screaming about cake, and Cove took him on a little lap around you as you were getting ready in the bedroom.
"Is that all this wedding is to you, an excuse to have cake?" you teased.
"No," Cove said quickly, a tender look on his face as he stopped beside you. Meanwhile, Dylan let out a big "Yep!"
You smiled, cupping Cove's cheek in your hand before reaching up to tousle your son's hair.
"Remember, tomorrow's the big cake," you told him as Cove carefully lowered him to the floor. "Today's the rehearsal, so just a little cake."
"Enough for me!" he said happily, bounding out of the room to find something else to get into.
"My boy," Cove said proudly, clutching a hand to his chest.
"Through and through," you agreed.
"I'm going to go ahead and get him in the car," he said as you gave yourself a final look in the mirror. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Cove pulled up to the beach, you saw there were quite a few cars there already for the rehearsal. Your wedding party was going to be there -- your soon-to-be husband had chosen his father as his best man, with his mother, Terry and Miranda rounding out his side. For you, you wanted your moms and Liz to stand beside you, and you'd chosen Derek to be your man of honor. The plan was for Dylan to stand with Cliff.
The justice of the peace Baxter had arranged for would be there too, as well as Baxter himself.
As your little family walked down to the beach, Dylan was struggling to get out of Cove's arms so he could start playing -- Cove really wasn't kidding when he called him his boy. Cliff, who had been talking to Kyra and your moms closer to the water, jogged up to him, a big smile on his face.
"Hey, kiddo!" he greeted happily. "Want to come play with Grandpa so Daddy and Mommy can do the boring stuff?"
Dylan almost dove out of Cove's arms to get to Cliff, who gladly caught him. He shot you a smile, clapped Cove on the back and then went off to play.
"I guess we should tell Baxter we're here?" Cove asked, lacing his fingers through yours now that his hands were free. You squeezed his hand and nodded
You looked around -- the wedding party was all there, the parents in one group and your friends and Liz close by in another. Baxter was further off, talking to the justice of the peace. Even at this distance, you thought you could tell that he was rather pointedly not looking around.
At this point, everyone had known that Baxter was your wedding planner. It had been an interesting series of conversations, to say the least, since everyone also knew that he was Dylan's biological father. You'd had to beg Liz to play nice, and your moms weren't thrilled either, but no one was going to ruin your wedding by making a scene.
When you approached your wedding planner, he greeted you with a nod and a tight smile. You were introduced to your officiant, then Baxter gave you a quick rundown of how the ceremony would go -- where you would stand, where you would walk, exactly where everything would be. He was very thorough, and when you heard Dylan squeal with laughter close by, he stayed focused.
But when it was time to actually rehearse, he couldn't politely ignore everyone anymore.
He gathered everyone together, and even as Cliff came over hand-in-hand with Dylan, he still wouldn't look his way. He didn't acknowledge that he'd met nearly everyone present five years ago, just explained how the rehearsal worked as professionally as possible.
Then, after he was done and everyone had started getting to position for the beginning of the ceremony, Dylan pulled free from Cliff's grip and approached Baxter.
"Who are you?"
You watched the exchange intently, ready to jump in if needed. Cove placed a steadying hand on the small of your back.
"My name is Baxter," he answered, putting a smile over the complicated mix of emotions that crossed his expression. "I'm in charge of planning your parents' wedding. What's your name?"
"You look like me," Dylan told him instead of answering his question.
Baxter froze.
If your son had been a little older, this might have been a situation, but he was 4. He didn't understand genetics or how babies were made or anything that would have been interesting about this other than the fact that this guy he saw shared some of his features.
"I have those too," your son continued, pointing up to the mole on Baxter's neck. He lifted his shirt a bit to show him one on his belly.
You waited a moment longer, but Baxter had barely blinked, so you stepped forward.
"Hey baby, let's get you where you need to be, ok?" you said, grabbing Dylan's hand and then passing it off to Cove. He happily went along, oblivious to what he'd done to Baxter.
Cove shot you a smile and walked away with him, leaving you alone to unthaw your wedding planner.
"So ... that's him."
He finally met your eyes, then began shaking his head. You'd never seen him less composed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say," he told you, stopping and starting a few more sentences before helplessly raising a hand and gesturing off to your son. "I do look like him though, don't I?"
"Well, he looks like you," you corrected. "You came first. Are you going to be able to handle this?"
He ran a shaky hand through his hair tried to nod. "I can. I can do better."
"Well, you can't do much worse."
It was meant as a joke, but he looked wounded. You almost said something, but decided to let it lie.
For the rest of the evening, Baxter was back in professional mode. Everyone learned what they needed to know about how the ceremony would go, and while you and Cove had fun with your friends and family, your planner never let his guard down.
But then the youngest member of your wedding party decided to make his voice heard again.
"I'm going to have the rings," Dylan told Baxter, interrupting him as he spoke to you and Cove about your vows.
You watched him swallow, but eventually, he looked down with the best smile he could muster and said, "I know, I've heard. Do you know what you need to do?"
He shook his head. "No. I thought I was going to be a bear but Mommy said I heard wrong."
A real smile broke through Baxter's pained expression.
"Ring bearer," he told him softly, putting emphasis on the last syllable. "It is a bit of a confusing term if you were expecting to be a bear."
Your son shot you a smirk as if to say "See, this guy gets it," and at that Baxter let out a genuine laugh. Cove caught your eye, and you shared a grin.
Baxter led Dylan back to where the beginning of the aisle would be, and he showed him how to walk slowly up towards everyone before ending up standing by Cliff. You couldn't hear what they were saying for a bit, but you did see that they were both smiling.
When the sun was getting low in the sky, the group decided they had a good handle on things -- besides, it was time for the dinner down at the tropical place. Everyone was gathering their things and Baxter was going over some final details about the actual wedding with you and Cove when your son decided to speak to his new friend again.
"Are you coming too?"
"I'm afraid not," Baxter told him. "The dinner is just for friends and family."
Dylan was too young to understand the break in Baxter's voice when he said that last word, but you caught it. So did Cove. You had a moment of wordless communication, then you let out a little sigh.
"You can come if you want," you told him. "There's plenty of room."
Baxter immediately launched into a polite refusal, but when Dylan cut in with "You should come, we're going to have cake," it appeared that he couldn't exactly tell him no.
"Perhaps I could stop by for a moment," he said, looking to you for approval. You nodded at him, and he smiled back.
After a nod, he walked off his car. Cove gave you a quick kiss, then started towards the car with Dylan.
Liz walked up beside you and nudged you with her elbow.
"Hope the Victorian emo man doesn't catch the vapors by actually spending some time with his son," she said quietly.
"Liz."
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